Veil

by Aaron Overfield

  She finally lowered her head. Suren’s eyes unleashed tears that she held back for so long she forgot why she ever held them back. She never wanted things to end up the way they did. That wasn’t how any of it was supposed to turn out. Revenge turned into regret, which turned into resentment, which turned into revenge. Suren was done. All she wanted was to be alone with her Jin, whatever that meant. She would take Jin however she could have him. That was all she ever wanted. Her Jin. To be Jin’s wife—which simply meant being Suren.

  She stood, still unable to face Hunter, and smoothed her dress with her free hand. The gaunt fingers of her other were wrapped around the handle of the white cane, which she used to support over half her weight. As she crept toward the office door, she decided she couldn’t fight any of it anymore. She couldn’t fight anything anymore. It was over. It was time to let go. Not give up … let go. Suren wanted peace.

  The sterling silver tip of her cane struck the hardwood floor as she stepped beyond the massive Persian area rug. It made sharp, piercing, rhythmic pings with every step she took toward her grand exit. When she arrived at the door, she turned her head and looked at Hunter. The stream of tears slowed to a trickle, which meant she could speak real words—with real meaning and honest emotion—without tensing up.

  “Do what you want Hunter, I’m letting go. I don’t think it’s right or what Ken would’ve wanted, but do what you want. Jin would’ve done the same exact thing in your shoes. He would’ve given up the future of Veil for one more second with me.” Awestruck, she tilted her head during her next realization and sighed out her words heavily. As she spoke them to Hunter, she also admitted them to herself for the first time. “God, Jin would’ve liked you so much. You love like he loved, and he would’ve been so happy to witness you loving Ken. And … you would’ve gotten him to laugh. Jin would’ve felt so close to you, Hunter. Perhaps closer than he ever felt to Ken.”

  She left him with that. No matter what transpired between the two of them from that moment forward, Suren felt those would be her last real words to Hunter. She had nothing left to say, and that last realization said it all. Those words almost said more than she wanted to admit. She inched through the office door. When she made it through, she stopped, supported nearly all her weight with the cane, twisted her body and used her free hand to shut the door.

  “Ah, damnit,” Hunter groaned and slapped the desk.

  If Hunter ever harped on Suren when he and Ken were alone, although Ken might’ve totally recognized that Suren was behaving like a bloodthirsty madwoman, he would immediately put Hunter in his place. Prophet Ken, patron saint of the Rhetoricians, would chariot to Suren’s defense and proselytize things into perspective.

  “How do you think you’d react if someone put a bullet in my head?” he preached. “Don’t you think you’d do the same shit as Suren, if not worse? And—I knew Jin. If someone did that to Suren. Oh God, if someone had done that to her…”

  Ken wasn’t able to make himself finish the thought. Apparently, Jin would’ve fucking flipped. He would’ve lost his shit. Hell, look at the time bomb he implanted in Suren’s brain. Forget Suren-crazy, Jin would’ve gone all Hunter-crazy. And thus the troubling, troubling epiphany of Suren’s last realization.

  Ken was right. Hunter knew it back then, and he still knew it. He was right: Suren’s bloodlust madness was a testament to how truly devoted she could be. After finding Ken (the first and only man he ever wanted to give his love to) Hunter understood that kind of devotion. Hunter knew most people assumed he was cold, insolent, and heartless—well, ok he could be all those—and that he came across as unstable and unhinged. However, Hunter liked to think he was merely reserving his true self for those few deserving people. He was holding himself back. Few were worthy of his attention and affection, so withholding it from everyone else meant those few could get more of it.

  Hunter loved Ken more than the biggest, fattest fucking kid loved the biggest, icing-est goddamn cake. Hunter believed he was only able to love Ken so much because he denied his love to so many others. He saw no problem with that at all. Nevertheless, Suren presented a different problem, and Suren was right: Jin and Hunter were alike—in the way they loved and how that love would fuel their thirst for revenge should anyone ever harm the person they loved.

  Would Ken have gone as far as giving up what Hunter was going to give up, so Ken could experience some artificial Hunter in his mind? Hunter didn’t have to ask himself the question. The answer was: ah hell nah. Suren was right: Ken wouldn’t have wanted it; Ken wouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t that Ken didn’t love Hunter as much as Hunter loved Ken. It was just not what Ken would’ve done. Even if somehow it were the right thing to do, it wouldn’t be the noble thing to do.

  Hunter knew all along that was precisely why Ken served as the vAtoner for Lundy, despite the risk. That was why it was Ken’s idea in the first place. Regardless of how logical (to a fault) Ken could be, there was still a contradiction in his character, which Hunter found inherent in all people. No one, including Ken, was immune to some intrinsic and internal personality clash, some duality of character.

  No matter how logical Ken was, Hunter knew Ken was more caring. Consequently, Ken was more intent on doing the good and noble thing, even if that meant acting completely illogically. When necessary, Ken could simply use logic to find a way to justify doing the good and noble thing, even if it weren’t the right or smart thing. That was Ken, and it was what made him Ken.

  It was just like Suren: no matter how utterly prim and proper she was, Hunter knew Suren was more doting and devoted. Suren would protect and preserve everyone and everything she loved, even if it meant forgoing her composure and acting completely bat-shit-crazy. That was Suren, and it was what made her the Great Widow Tsay.

  Hunter placed so much blame on Suren for her role in Ken’s death precisely for that reason: because he was able to see Suren for Suren.

  It was Ken’s character that compelled him to be the vAtoner for Lundy. As much as Hunter wanted to hold Ken fully responsible for the decision, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was who Ken was; it was what made him Ken; he couldn’t do anything else. Hunter didn’t want to feel that way, but he selfishly couldn’t stop it. At some point he stopped not wanting to feel that way.

  In the beginning, Hunter likened his own blame of Suren for Ken’s death to how dumb folks tended to blame the person their lover cheated on them with—rather than blame their lover. Hunter knew that was what he was doing, but he felt so damn guilty for his own damn reasons that he ended up drowning in a sea of not knowing what to do or who to blame.

  During the battle of the “big thing,” Hunter considered threatening to leave Ken if he went through with being the vAtoner, but he selfishly couldn’t bring himself to do that either. Hunter was never that kind of person before, and he didn’t want to be that person. It felt like putting on the skin of some nagging, shrew bitch of a woman, and he didn’t want to do it. Hunter didn’t want to change the few good things about him simply to keep the person he loved. After Ken died however, Hunter tortured himself by wishing he had been strong enough in that moment to be a nagging bitch of a woman.

  Still, being able to see Suren for Suren was what shone a big-ass Hunter of a light onto Suren’s role in Ken’s death and illuminated all the blame.

  Seeing Suren for Suren, Hunter knew she knew Ken would’ve backed down if she told him not to be the vAtoner. Suren knew Ken, and Suren knew why he was compelled to be the vAtoner: Ken was compelled to do the good and noble thing. All Suren had to do was say she didn’t want it to happen, and Ken would’ve honored her wishes. It was who Ken was. As far as Hunter was concerned, all Suren had to do was stop caring about her dead husband more than she cared about Hunter’s alive husband. That was all she had to do. Ken had no choice; Suren did.

  Hunter knew beyond any doubt what he would’ve done if someone came to him and told him that if he stopped hating Suren, Brock would live. Hunter knew he w
ould’ve stopped hating Suren so quickly that it would’ve spun Brock’s neck fast enough to unparalyze the man somehow. Hunter would’ve instantly stopped hating Suren for one more minute with Brock, for one more moment. That was all Suren had to do. All she had to do was care about Ken. Because she knew Ken would’ve conceded if that was her wish—like she knew Roy would always do whatever the hell she wanted—all Suren had to do was care about Ken. All she had to do was say, “no.” Instead, she chose to kill Ken.

  Thus, once again, the troubling, troubling epiphany of Suren’s last words: since they were so alike, if Jin would’ve gone Hunter-crazy had someone killed Suren, how crazy would Hunter have gone if someone actually killed Ken?

  Oh God, if someone had done that to him… Hunter wasn’t able to make himself finish the thought.

  However, the thought spoke the epiphany for itself: no one actually killed Ken. Had someone killed Ken, Hunter would’ve been the first to go all Hunter-crazy.

  After Suren closed the office door behind her, Hunter supposed perhaps maybe possibly it was actually Lundy who killed Ken. For the first time in twenty-five years, Hunter blamed Lundy. Lundy set the ball in motion and created the memory whose existence was not only a product of Jin’s murder, but led directly to Ken’s death. If he was going to be completely honest, Suren wasn’t Hunter’s Lundy. Lundy was Hunter’s Lundy.

  Damn Suren, and damn her getting the final word like that. It didn’t really change anything as far as he was concerned and/or was prepared to admit. True, Ken decided to be and insisted on being vAtoner. True, Hunter decided not to deliver the ultimatum that he’d leave Ken if he went through with it. Even so, neither of those decisions would’ve been necessary or possible if Suren simply cared about Ken more than her dead corpse of a husband. Hell, the man wasn’t a corpse anymore. All Suren ever had to do was stop caring about a pile of dust more than Ken. Thankfully, the she-devil didn’t go all Hunter-crazy. Hunter couldn’t begin to imagine the Great Hunter-crazy Black Widow Tsay.

  Still, damn Suren, and damn her for getting the final word. Nah, he’d show her. Hunter would get the last word. That was a given, though. He was undoubtedly going to live longer than that old bitch. Perhaps she was right; perhaps Ken wouldn’t have wanted him to give up streaming, and perhaps he and Jin were a lot alike. Hunter couldn’t see how those two things mattered as Suren’s argument was rendered invalid because Hunter hated her.

  I loathe you; therefore your argument is invalid.

  None of them were prepared for what happened when Veil: The Veillusion was presented to the masses. Not even Ken could’ve predicted how it was going to affect the world. It became too confusing for people to call Peyton’s Veillusion “Veil,” so the Industry decided on Veil: The Veillusion. They even gave it the tagline: “The Story of Jin and the Legendary Tsay Trustees.” It made Suren, Hunter, and Roy feel a little fancy. They couldn’t deny it.

  Roy was the one who put it all into perspective for them. As somewhat of a Tsay Trustee outsider, it made sense coming from him.

  “It was unbelievable you all stayed these famous celebrities as long as you all did, if you consider everything else that was going on in the world. You all were so outside Veil, which is what the whole wide world was focused on, but you all still stayed in that limelight. Every other PreVeil celebrity in the whole world got themselves replaced by Velebrities. That money got pulled out of Hollywood so fast PostVeil that when Old Time Veillusions did finally come along, they started coming from like these amateur writers who were living with their parents. In the basement.”

  Since when was Roy so insightful?

  Suren and Hunter gawked at each other, which was saying something since they tended to avoid looking at each other at all.

  Overnight, they once again became the revered, extolled, legendary Tsay Trustees. Hunter had to hire security and keep all his gates secured. The District dispatched officers to ensure Suren’s property was patrolled at all times. Their privacy was gone again, although at their age, there wasn’t much to keep private. That was especially true since the world was suddenly given direct access to every bit of personal information about them and their story. More than anything, they found that people simply longed to see them.

  Through Veil: The Veillusion, people found a connection to those ghostly icons they grew up hearing about. They were mysterious icons who didn’t seem like any part of the real world. They were fabled relics many people assumed were already long dead. Ironically, the most fervent and devoted of their new fan base were born into the New Veil World. The older generations, who were accustomed to the secrecy and unattainability of the Tsay Trustees, were satisfied enough with the Veillusion. They assumed access to the Trustees would not be forthcoming, just as things were in the old days.

  Peyton was hit hardest by the fame and attention. Although they weren’t prepared for those things, the other three were at least familiar with them. Peyton, like Roy, had to learn how to deal with the change in her own way, but she found the other three to be much less helpful than back in Roy’s day. They didn’t have the time or energy to hold her hand. Plus, Suren was less than happy with Peyton’s obvious ploy and play on Hunter.

  The three Trustees actually found themselves relishing in their reclaimed fame. In the years following Lundy’s trial and Ken’s death, they led very separate but connected lives. As much as possible, Hunter’s focus went back to technological improvements for Brock’s quality of life. That remained his focus until Brock died. However, before he passed away, Hunter developed the best thing Brock could’ve dreamed up, and Hunter wished Brock lived long enough to enjoy it more.

  Hunter devised a system that could read Brock’s brainwaves accurately enough to allow him to communicate and write without an onscreen keyboard. All Brock needed to do was think of words, and his computer would recognize and speak or record them. After reciting and recording long pieces of work with his mind, he could go back and edit them for accuracy, because the technology was of course not without its faults. Brock continued to use the keyboard for conversing one-on-one; he found that less confusing, and although it was slower, it was more accurate. Still, Hunter gave Brock the tool to write. To really, really write. Brock took it, ran with it, and went apeshit. However, less than seven years after Hunter lost Ken, Brock was dead. A doctor claimed it was natural causes. Hunter didn’t buy it: Brock wasn’t into nature or dying.

  Throughout those first years following Ken’s death, Hunter and Suren remained connected through Brock and Roy. In the unpublicized split of the Trustees after Ken’s death, Brock naturally gravitated toward Hunter and Roy toward Suren. Brock and Roy joked that they became the pets that would get split up during a divorce. Funny but true, Brock noted. For seven years, Brock and Roy spent time together when they could, mostly through trips to attractions in the District. Brock really enjoyed the Air and Space Smithsonian and the World War II memorial. Roy loved the Spy Museum and the Tsay Temple.

  During their outings, they would talk about Hunter and Suren and afterwards would relay the information to their respective housemates. Suren was always concerned with how Hunter was doing, so she was glad to get the regular updates from Brock, which were mostly delivered to her through Roy. She would listen intently, and as the years went by she wondered what he looked like. Did he still look like a big, beefy, angry, gay Vin Diesel? Or had he started to get all skinny and gray and old?

  Hmmm … if I ever see Hunter again, I need to ask him if Vin Diesel was a gay.

  Hunter, on the other hand, would listen to Brock’s reports about Suren and then proceed to rant incessantly. For hours, Hunter would scream how he didn’t care about the bitch and about how much of a bitch the bitch was. He told Brock to never speak her name in his presence again but then, when Brock got home from his next outing with Roy, Hunter would immediately ask what the old bitch was up to. Brock knew Hunter well enough to understand the complicated dynamic and cared enough to suffer through the nearly weekly rants.
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  Following Brock’s death, Roy became the sole messenger and, not having such a deep familiarity with the neuroticism that was Hunter and Suren, relay of updates and statuses became a monthly occurrence at best. Roy came to believe that Hunter truly hated Suren and could not see Hunter’s hate for what it was. Suren could see it; Brock saw it; Hunter himself knew in a very, very small way and somewhere deep in a very, very dark cavernous recess. Somewhere. Maybe.

  Hmmm…if I ever see that bitch again, I wonder what will be the fastest way to kill her?

  After losing Brock, what Peyton would’ve considered the budding signs of Hunter becoming a vGriever began to bubble up. Hunter became obsessed with isolating and extracting all of his memories of Ken. Every day for thirteen years, Hunter extracted his memories of Ken and stored them on a small, shiny white drive. He used the drive to stream the memories back to himself through an artificial brain he molded.

  When he wasn’t conjuring up more memories to extract from himself, Hunter was Veiling his own memories of Ken. He attempted to relive them by amplifying each one through the Veil process. When Peyton divulged her algorithm, Hunter immediately knew he could use it on those memories to select the very best ones: the strongest, deepest, most powerful ones.