“It didn’t work,” Pollock finished for Schaffer. “The shit didn’t work. The fucking Veil doesn’t work.”
“Where’s Ken?” Hunter anxiously peered over Suren’s shoulder to see if Ken was trailing behind.
“He stayed back at the house,” she replied as she pushed by him. She wondered if he noticed that she was carrying a large tray while trying to balance two bags on top of it.
“Oh, oh, here, let me help you with those,” he offered when his attention returned to the present situation. As Hunter reached for the bags, he was already apologizing. “Really sorry about that, literally just got done responding to an email from our production guy, and he said the units are done and ready to be shipped.” He walked ahead of her, placed the two bags on one of the lab tables and turned to take the tray from her as a further gesture of apology. “I was able to talk him into shipping them immediately and told him I’d follow up with him later for payment. Was hoping Ken was with you, so we could get that out of the way. All twenty units should be here first thing tomorrow.”
Suren dodged Hunter’s attempt at taking the tray from her hands and skirted around him playfully. All was forgiven.
“Already? Really? They’re already made? That was … that was beyond fast. Ken was right. You can work some miracles.”
“If I could work miracles, I’d be in the wine making business. Is Ken single?” Hunter asked without missing a beat.
Suren was about to joke back at Hunter’s wine wisecrack, but his last three words shocked her.
“Is … is he what?” she responded. She wanted to make sure she heard him correctly and tried to figure out why he’d ask such a question, if that were actually what he asked.
“Single. Is he single?”
“Ummm … I think so. I mean, he hasn’t said anything about anyone,” she shrugged. Now that she thought about it, she realized she had no idea if Ken was in a relationship or not. She assumed he wasn’t. It never came up. “I think he is single, yes.”
“Cool. He’s cute in that dorky, uptight kinda way. Plus a cute butt. But anyway yeah, I was hoping he was coming with you so we could do the payment. He said he had the funds available, and I don’t want to use anything of my own because I don’t want to raise any suspicions or send out any clues. Not until we’re all in the clear.”
Suren remained frozen and unsure how to respond. She couldn’t be certain if Hunter was messing around with her, although she couldn’t imagine a man joking about stuff like that. And in that manner. She knew she had to say something, though.
“Uh, well, I mean, don’t worry about it. I can pay it, to get it out of the way. That’s no big deal,” she offered and was already reaching for her purse, which was on the table next to the tray of food. “And about the other stuff, well, I would maybe not say anything to Ken about all that. Just my advice.”
“Oh honey, I know how to work them,” Hunter crowed and grabbed the credit card she was holding up.
Oh! He’s a gay.
She wasn’t sure how—or if—she should tell Ken.
A gay!
Schaffer shot Pollock a scowl and resumed addressing the General.
“He’s correct. The test run failed,” Schaffer continued. “Despite myself and Pollock’s two successful runs the previous weekend, the test-Veil we conducted Friday failed. We spent the greater part of the weekend trying to figure out what malfunction had taken place. We went back through all the steps and verified everything was done up to speed. To be sure, we did another test run on each other. Since the device instantly replaces the removed neuroelectricity with an artificial current for the duration of the Veil, the subject doing the shadowing doesn’t have to be placed on life support. That meant that Pollock and I could try the device on each other without a third party. We did several test runs that way, and they were all … unsuccessful.”
“Don’t forget the calls,” Pollock spoke up. Once again his voice was awkwardly raised and he sounded anxious. “We called Hunter a bunch of times over the weekend. Tell him about that.”
Schaffer rolled his eyes but confirmed, “Yes. I also messaged and called Dr. Kennerly a few times over the weekend but was unable to make contact. His cellphone went straight to voicemail and there was no answer at his quarters. After no contact had been made by this morning, and still being unable to get the device to function, I decided to send the lieutenant to Dr. Kennerly’s quarters to retrieve him.”
General Coffman took a deep breath.
With a controlled, steady tone he started, “So, let me get this straight. By, say, yesterday afternoon, one full week since either of you had seen Hunter Kennerly, it never dawned on either of you to notify me, your commanding officer? Forget protocols, forget procedures. Out of concern for his wellbeing and some semblance of basic respect for the chain of command” —by then the General’s tone gradually increased back to a thundering yell—“neither of you motherfucking fucktards considered perhaps you should notify me?” He tapped forcefully on his chest with his index finger. “Notify your goddamned commanding officer? Notify him that another man under his command went from sick to, for all intents and purposes, missing? That never occurred to either one of you piece of shit idiots?”
“Sir … sir—” Schaffer pleaded and at the same time struggled to figure out what he was going to say to defend at least himself, if not both of them.
Pollock raised his arm, pointed in Schaffer’s direction and interrupted him by shouting, “Schaffer’s gay!”
“How were they?”
“Fine. Tired and hungry.”
“Not surprised.”
“Oh and the Veils are being shipped. From California. They’ll be here tomorrow morning. I went ahead and paid for them.”
“What? They’re done?” Ken jumped off the couch. The remote fell off his lap with a loud thud, which was accompanied by the sound of plastic breaking. The sound didn’t faze him. “They’re done,” he answered himself. “Maybe I should go back there tonight so I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”
“Hunter said there was nothing you two could do until you had the Veils in your hands,” she tried to dissuade him.
He snatched up his coat and keys. He sped by Suren and then backtracked enough to kiss her on the cheek before he sprinted to the door while shouting, “He’s wrong! We left something out. Come to the lab tomorrow morning!”
He bolted through the door and was closing it behind him.
“Ken!” Suren called out to stop him.
He opened the door enough to poke his head through. “I’ll pay you back, don’t worry.”
“N-No,” she was caught off guard. “I don’t care about that. It’s j—just. It’s … Hunter is a gay!” she squawked. She didn’t intend to shout it as loudly as she did. It kind of escaped out of her, and she covered her mouth afterwards. She fought back a giggle.
Ken furrowed his brow but smiled and shook his head back and forth.
“So what? See you in the morning, lady!” He pulled the door closed and was gone.
Suren suddenly felt silly. She chuckled at herself. Maybe instead she should have gone with “he thinks your butt is cute.” She headed to the kitchen but stopped in her tracks. She cocked her head a bit, and for the first time wondered if any men ever thought Jin was attractive in that way. She never considered it before.
She then thought about how Jin would’ve reacted if faced with that news, and she began to laugh again. The more she thought about how uncomfortable it would’ve made him—not because he didn’t approve of gays, but because it was an attraction from another man—the more she imagined the look on his face.
She laughed herself into hysterics at that image and calmed herself down by pouring a glass of wine.
God, I gotta remember to tell Ken that one.
The other two men were stiff and perplexed by the outburst.
Uncomfortable with the sudden silence, Pollock carried on. “He is! He’s like in love with Dr. Kennerly or someth
ing!” He was still pointing at Schaffer.
Schaffer took a deep breath and turned toward Pollock, who lowered his arm. Although in that moment his brain didn’t recall it, his face remembered getting punched by Schaffer once before, so he tensed. The General pushed himself off the table, positioned himself between the two scientists and put his arms out. Schaffer took a step forward at the same time, and his chest was met by the General’s palm.
General Coffman held his position and spoke softly but deeply.
“Now the two of you listen to me. Listen to every fucking word that I say. Carefully.”
Schaffer pressed his chest against the General’s palm but not with enough force to bend the General’s arm. He only did so with enough force to send the General a message. Schaffer wasn’t sure what the message was. Maybe that he was a real man and wasn’t going to back down. He just knew he couldn’t stop going at Pollock without some appearance of a fight at first.
The General glared at Pollock and spoke directly to him.
“You. Go to your office and start calling every hospital within a twenty-mile radius. Call every police station. Call the fucking Bureau and tell them you need his fucking phone and credit cards reviewed. And you needed it goddamn yesterday.”
Sheepishly, Pollock replied, “Yes sir, right away.” He promptly turned around and walked to his office.
After Pollock crossed the lab, entered his office and shut the door, the General exhaled and turned to face Schaffer. The General’s palm was still holding Schaffer back, so he thrust his arm out and pushed against Schaffer’s chest with enough force to send him stumbling back.
“Cocksucker or not, after Hunter, you’re the best man I’ve got in here,” the General growled and pointed in the direction of the lab.
Schaffer started to speak up in defense, but the General wasn’t having it.
“Don’t! No, you fucking listen.”
Schaffer was filled with the strongest urge to spit in the General’s face and walk out the door. The urge lasted approximately two seconds.
“Gay or not, I blame you for this. Pollock is about one step up from walking in here every day with dried drool on his chin and his shoelaces untied. The only reason he’s in my lab is because of his fucking daddy. You earned your commission here. Although it was the right move, the fact alone I had to bring Hunter in here to work on this—a favor you personally requested—should be a fucking embarrassment to you. The fact that he’s now been missing for eight days is a disgrace. To you. Fuck Pollock. This is on you. Be gay all you want, but don’t be a fucking faggot. Do not say one fucking word to me. Walk out of this office and find him. Call the house where his friend, that Elsbeth guy, was staying. Talk to him. Review the surveillance tapes from the building. Track his movements. He could be in the hospital; he could be dead; he could’ve been fucking abducted for all we goddamn know. Find Hunter Kennerly. Find him right fucking now.”
By the end of his tirade, the General was hissing through his teeth in a voice Schaffer had never heard come out of him. Schaffer didn’t say a word. He turned his body to the side so he could inch by the General and still stay as far from him as possible. He walked through the door of the conference room and out into the lab.
As Schaffer made his way to his office, he heard the General yell something unintelligible, followed by a rather thundering sound of glass busting and shattering, and then a clanging metallic crash. Schaffer did not turn around but if forced to make a guess, he would have figured the sound was of a chair being thrown through the glass wall that separated the conference room and the lab. Schaffer opened his office door, ran through, and immediately slammed it behind him. He lunged for the trashcan sitting next to his desk, buckled over, and dry heaved three times before he finally vomited. He vomited until his stomach was empty and he returned to dry heaving. He carried on like that until he produced bile.
“I call it Suren’s Law. Basically, it’s a safety.”
“Suren’s Law?”
“Yeah, ummm … for whatever reason, Jin used Suren as his first and only test subject. He was killed weeks after his first test run. We didn’t discover that he used her until much later and even then by chance. Suren didn’t know; she didn’t remember. Jin used the Veil process to place markers in her memory and then chemically targeted that particular section of her memory afterwards to block access to it.”
“Memory-specific, chemically-induced amnesia?”
“Yea, exactly. We aren’t really sure why he did it, but she’s certain she doesn’t remember any of it and there’s some stuff about memory manipulation in his notes. I actually included some of the memory functionality in the final version I sent you.”
“I saw that. By the way, side note, I also saw the cute little kill switch you tried to implant. Smart move.”
“Apparently not smart enough. You found it.”
“Yeah, but still pretty ingenious. Actually, I put it to good use. I left it in the programming of the prototype the military still has in their possession. So really all they have is a fancy looking brick.”
“Fuck, that’s brilliant. I was wondering how you could leave Veil behind but without them being able to use it. How long do you think it will take them to track down the kill switch?”
“Knowing them, it could take months. And that’s being generous.”
They both laughed.
Hunter clarified, “Anyway. Essentially, Suren wants a safety measure to make sure what her husband did to her can’t be done to anyone else? Ensure no one can be Veiled without their knowledge or permission?”
“Exactly.”
“What do you suggest?” Hunter asked.
“Signatures. Digital signatures.”
“Like device specific keys? Like passwords?”
“Precisely. Right now, the way it’s set up, you can use one Veil device to perform an entire Veil. Like you did with Brock, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, imagine if every Veil was given its own identifying number. Its own serial code or whatever, but specific to the person, tied to their specific neuroelectric frequency and pattern. A number tying together their device and their brain.”
“Like a Veil Security Number instead of a Social Security Number.”
“Precisely. So now the process will always require that there be two Veil devices in order to perform a Veil. And before the Veil of the subject will accept the Witness of another person, it has to generate a key, like a password, for that specific Witness, using their security number. That way, the device can recognize and identify incoming connections, so it can allow or refuse them. It would be, at the very least, a pretty sophisticated building block for a security system. As the technology evolves, the security will evolve as well. But this way before we leave the gate we already have something in place: Suren’s Law.”
“So we need to program Veil to generate this security number when the person first obtains the device. Before they can use it? And then only one person will ever be able to own or operate that Veil? They won’t be interchangeable?”
“Nope, and you’ll need two devices in order to perform a Veil. Each device with its very own digital signature that’s linked only to that device and only to its owner’s brain.”
“Shit man, I think we could do it. I don’t think it would be that hard. And I actually like the idea. Forced Veil—people not knowing they’re essentially being spied on—is the main reason I knew what the military was doing was wrong. I like this idea. A lot. Don’t take it the wrong way but that Jin dude was kinda twisted for doing that. I mean, to his own wife. Sounds like something I would do.”
“I’m sure he had his reasons. We’ll never know what they were. But he loved Suren. More than anything. He had to have his reasons. Good reasons, unlike…”
Hunter took the hint and chuckled. “Guess so. Well, we have from now until tomorrow morning when the Veils get delivered to get the code completely polished and ready to go. Then all we have to do, on
ce they arrive, is upload the final operating system into each one and test them each individually.”
“We won’t be able to test them once we enact Suren’s Law. If we test them, they will be permanently assigned to whoever tests them,” Ken reminded him.
“Shit, that’s right.”
“If you don’t mind, you and Brock can test two of them. That will leave us with eighteen.”
“I’ll see if I can talk him into it. I still think he’s pretty wiped from yesterday. He’s been asleep all day.”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be a long test. It can be an operational one. Quick and simple.”
“True,” Hunter agreed. “Well, let’s get on it. Let’s get to coding this shit, Sweetness.”
After pausing for a moment, Ken cocked his head.
“Did you call me Sweetness?”
Schaffer didn’t give a friggen crap anymore. Frak it, he figured. He knew it was always going to fall on his shoulders; he would always have to speak for the two of them. Far be it from Pollock to grow a backbone and take the lead. Even the General knew it. Since Schaffer decided not to give a crap anymore, when Pollock opened Schaffer’s office door without so much as a knock, Schaffer about lost it. Especially since they had yet to uncover anything whatsoever concerning Hunter Kennerly’s whereabouts.
Schaffer jumped up from his seat and shouted, “Oh, motherfrakker! You have a lot of friggen nerve!”
Pollock put his arm out to ward off Schaffer.
“Wait, wait! Wait, Carl. Wait, man.”
Schaffer lunged and grabbed Pollock by the lapels of his lab jacket. He threw him against the bookshelves next to his office door.
“Wait for what, bitch?”
“‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’! Obama appealed ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’. If that’s what you’re worried about, man. Come on, man.”
Veil Page 26
