She took the opportunity and yelled over Ken’s shoulder, “Yeah, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you, asshole!”
“It’s not his fault, Suren.” He handed her the shaking glass. He trembled so badly he spilled some of the water. She was sitting at his desk, so he took a seat in the chair in front of it.
“He knew?”
“Yes, of course he knew. He had to be here when … when … well, you know. You saw.”
“Every time? That happens every time?” she asked and sipped water.
“Yes. Every time. Four times now. It happens every time. Each time is worse than the last. It’s like I remember more. Each time, I remember more. Until the pills start to work.”
“Good!” she yelled. “Good! I hope you remember every fucking thing! I wish you didn’t have pills to take! I hope you remember the look in Jin’s eyes!”
Ken’s head fell forward and he let out a deep, guttural groan, as if her saying the words conjured up the image in his head and brought it all back. The groan turned into a scream as tears rolled down his face.
Suren sat there and watched.
“Finished yet?” she asked flatly after he stopped screaming. His head was still bowed. She took another drink of water.
“Suren,” he tried to say, “let me—”
“No. Oh no. You don’t get to. No, you don’t get to talk. No Ken, you get to sit there and shut your mouth and listen. And you get to answer questions. Like the one I asked a minute ago. How long?”
Ken sat there, kept his head down, and didn’t answer.
“How long, Ken?” she demanded.
“Si—six years,” he stuttered. “Six years,” he repeated and looked up at her, tears still streaming down his face.
“So, coincidentally then,” she slammed the thick crystal glass onto the desk in front of her, “about the same time as your first little nervous breakdown. The nervous breakdown you tried to blame on your relationship with … with him,” she barked and contemptuously flicked her hand at the office doors.
“Yeah, same time.”
“And each of the times you landed in the hospital since then, which coincidentally also happens to be three times. Three fucking times, Ken. Those little nervous breakdowns. Those, too, right?”
“Yeah … well, two of them, yeah.”
“You sold the memory of my husband’s murder to those people! You sold the memory of Jin’s killer. So they could get some sick kicks out of it. Out of experiencing The Great Jin Tsay get murdered. You sold the memory of him putting a bullet in my husband’s head. Your friend’s head.”
Suren spat in Ken’s face and then leaned back in the chair. She watched with a smile as it dripped down. He didn’t move to wipe it off.
“Two years, do you know that?” she asked him.
“Yes, I know,” he whispered.
“Two years, Ken. Two years I’ve been hunting down rumors that this memory was floating around out there. That the bastard sold it. Two years. And now—”
“Suren…”
“No!” She slapped the desk hard. “No! Because now you tell me. Now! You’ve had it for six years. You’ve been carrying it around for six years. Selling it. To the highest bidder. My God.” She ran her fingers through her hair and grabbed it, pulling at it the same way Ken pulled his earlier. “Six fucking years.” She shook her head in disbelief while she stared down at the desk. “What, did you think you were protecting me? Did you think you had the right? Is that what you thought? You were saving me?” she laughed.
“I can’t right now, please, not after what I—”
“Don’t you dare fucking say after what you had to go through! Don’t you dare fucking say that to me, you son of a bitch.” She picked up the crystal glass and threw it at the wall but missed. It shattered one of the tall windows instead.
Suren regained her composure, and started back in on him with a disturbingly cynical tone, “So then…”
Ken’s head snapped up. He knew what she was about to try. He looked directly at her and protested, “No, Suren!”
“Yes. You don’t get to decide, Mr. ‘I’m Never Going To Use Veil.’ So then … tell me, Ken.”
“No! Suren, no.”
“What happened? What did you see?”
“Stop … stop.”
“Did you see everything? Did you see the bullet tear through Jin’s forehead?”
“Suren, don’t do this, please!” he begged and pulled at clumps of his hair again.
“Did you watch through the murderer as the life died out of Jin’s eyes? Did you see what he did with Jin’s body?”
“Hunter!!!” Ken screamed.
“Did you, Ken? Did you see everything? Tell me what you saw, Ken.”
“Hunter!!! Hunter!!! Hunterrrrrrrrrr!!!” he kept screaming.
“Did you see what he did with my Jin’s body?” she screamed as Hunter threw open the doors and ran inside the office. “Tell me!”
Ken kept shrieking and pulling his hair. Hunter rushed over and threw his arms around him.
Suren was relentless. “His body! Tell me, Ken! Tell me what you saw!” she continued to scream over Ken’s shrieks and howls.
“Stop! Now!” Hunter yelled and put his hand up at Suren. “STOP!”
“NO! He has to tell me! I have the right! Fuck you both, I have the right,” she screeched, nearly foaming at the mouth.
“Fine! You crazy bitch!” Hunter screamed back. “You want to know?”
Ken grabbed Hunter by the arm and tried to stop him.
“Yes,” she lowered from a screech to yell. “That’s all I want. I have the right to know. What happened? What did he see? What did he do with my Jin’s body? Fucking tell me!”
Above Ken’s pleas of, “No, please don’t, Hunter no, no…” Hunter let go of Ken and slammed his fists on the desk, rattling almost everything on it. He locked eyes with Suren and let it go; Hunter finally let six years go.
“He didn’t do anything with Jin’s body because Jin didn’t die! He didn’t fucking die!”
Suren fell back into the chair. She heard the words still coming from Hunter, but she wasn’t fully listening to them and had to slowly piece them together.
“Ken won’t even tell me what the memory is … all he says … over and over and over again, every time this happens is that Jin didn’t die. He didn’t die! That’s what’s in the memory, Suren. Jin didn’t fucking die, ok? Your husband didn’t die.”
“No, no, no!” she roared. She rose up from the chair with enough force to send it flying back. It hit the bookcase behind her and tipped over. “How does he know? Jesus fucking Christ, how does he know?!”
From Ken came the deepest, most pain-filled howl either of them could imagine coming out of someone, so hauntingly loud that it shut them both up. It was a single, piercing squall that should have ripped his vocal cords open until they spewed forth vomitus blood. They looked at him, absolutely terrified and speechless.
Still on his knees in front of the desk, Ken once again reached up and clenched large clumps of his own hair; he pulled as hard as he could, until blood seeped from thousands of follicles. He leaned backwards completely, until his back and shoulders touched the ground.
Once he assumed that position, Ken released a six-year-old demon, before falling unconscious.
“It isn’t his killer’s memory!” he screamed. “It belongs to Jin! It’s Jin’s … getting shot … it came from Jin! Jin’s memory. I can still feel the bullet. I can feel it.”
As he slipped out of consciousness, Ken repeated over and over, “I can feel it, I can feel it, I can feel it…” until his voice faded out.
14
CONTIGUITY
Since he was portless, most people assumed he was a “Veilgrant”: one of those few remaining anti-Veil zealots who rejected the very existence of Veil. Thanks to the discrimination he experienced due to that assumption, he ended up learning a lot more about the different Veil factions than he probably would’ve
ever cared to. If he were able to Veil, he likely would’ve been a normal, everyday Veiler. Instead, and out of circumstance, he got lumped with them.
Consensus was that Veilgrants opposed the truths of Veil out of fear and cowardice. They were willing to become vagrants due to fear alone. Fear of change; fear of technology; fear of what they’d find inside others; or the most common presumption, fear of what others would find inside them. Fear of … Veil.
To the majority of the world, Veilgrants practiced and preached the ultimate treason against the ever-burgeoning New Veil World. They were the world’s last remaining second-class citizens and, according to consensus, only as a result of their own backwards stubbornness. The minute they embraced Veil was the minute they would be enthusiastically embraced by the rest of society. Until then, they were the new trash; until then, they remained the new vagrancy.
He learned Veilgrants were a short step down from “Veilists”: the faction who declared themselves the utmost Veil purists. As the boundaries and battle-lines between nations and religions began to dissolve in accordance with what the masses praised as the unifying and equalizing power of Veil, came the backlash against what Veilists claimed was a correlating moral erosion. Although Veilists recognized that Veil fostered a total spiritual integration of world religions, they were not prepared to forego the moral compasses once provided by their respective religions. The remaining religious fundamentalist sects banded together and sought to establish a main sect: a World Veligion. One whose purpose would be to govern morality through enacting ethical, sectarian Veilistic Law.
According to Veilists, men should not Veil with women and vice-versa. Veil should not be used against someone’s will. Veil should absolutely never be used during any sexual acts, even masturbation, and protocols should be in place to block the shadower from experiencing any of the subject’s sexual thoughts and feelings during the Veil process. Veil should not be used interracially. Heterosexuals should only Veil with other heterosexuals; homosexuals only with other homosexuals. If any cross-sexuality Veiling were to take place, it should be done solely for the purpose of reparative therapy; such Veils should only take place in the form of a homosexual shadowing a heterosexual, so the homosexual could be exposed to the normalcy of heterosexuality.
Veil should not be used by pregnant women. Veil should not be used on children or by children. Veil should not be used on the dying, especially those very near death. Veil should only be used for spiritual purposes and, as much as possible, Veilists should only Veil with other Veilists (preferably only with those who shared their fundamental religion). The mentally ill and those with addictions should not be allowed to Veil, whereby they could spread their disease. Finally, to avoid spiritual contamination, a Veilist should never Veil with a nonbeliever.
Veilistic Law, recognized and followed only by Veilists, evolved over a short time in response to the rising New Veil World, and eventually each religion developed its own Veil-based text. The theological portions of each religion’s Veil text were remarkably similar, if not completely identical. It was due mostly to what was dubbed the “Spiritual Veilightenment,” which occurred as a result of the spiritual integration of the world religions. The only notable differences between the religious texts came in the form of the varying moral codes and guidelines—and even those differences were slight. One could pick up a Veil Bible, a Veil Torah or a Veil Qur’an and find they all reflected and complemented each other to near perfection.
With the signing of the Right To Veil bill, which the Great Widow Tsay herself helped pen and fought to ratify, came the first step toward what so many were hoping was on the horizon: a completely secular Veil-based governance—a total World Veilocracy. In the Right To Veil bill, no concessions were made to the Veilgrant or Veilist factions; there were no negotiations or discussions with either group. The bill ensured free and universal access to Veil for anyone over the age of eighteen. The only condition to the free, universal access was that no one could be a total exhibitionist or voyeur; one couldn’t shadow only or be shadowed only. To be a Veiler meant you had to be fully Inveiled; it had to be a two-way street.
The bill banned Veiling of death and of those near death, and only because, during a near-death experience, Veilers were found to suffer traumatic and permanent psychological and physiological damage. The so-called vFlatline experiences were the only ones to make it onto the illegal list. At least, other than nonconsensual ones.
It became illegal, through Suren’s Law, to Veil someone against his or her will or without their knowledge. That was, except through the reformed, rigorous, and transparent Department of Surveil. Generally referred to as simply Surveil, the department promised to “Protect and Surveil,” through Surveil Enforcement and also strove to obtain “Justice Through Veil,” through the Surveil Judiciary. After the signing of the bill, there were to be no more police, only Surveillors and no more lawyers, only judges and juries.
The bill also legitimized the privatization of the Veil Industry and established the first phase of sweeping industry regulations. Finally, it banned any entity, government or otherwise, from intercepting or storing information that traversed the Veil Network except for one single and rare purpose: for Surveil Enforcement to track, by VSN, when a wanted criminal cabled into the vNet, and only then in order to assist with their apprehension.
It was the very last bit of the bill that was the kicker for him. It was the deal breaker. He owned an original vCollar back in the day. Hell, he probably still had it around somewhere. Because he owned one, he was even assigned his VSN. However, once he saw the direction things were headed, well before the Right To Veil bill crossed anyone’s lips, he knew exactly what was coming, and he could have no part in it. To do so—to Veil—would mean the end of his freedom and likely, once Surveil got hold of him, the permanent end of his sanity.
The risks he predicted were twofold.
The first risk was, at some point, he knew Surveil Enforcement would track and locate people by their VSN using the Veil Network. That was a pretty obvious given. You couldn’t access the vNet without a VSN and the VSN was foolproof; essentially, it was the fingerprint of the brain. It couldn’t be faked, spoofed, or circumvented. At all. Widow Tsay herself offered, and was still offering, a cash reward to the sole hacker who could bypass the Veil security protocols one time. Just once.
The reward started out at a million dollars with another million tacked on each year the system wasn’t compromised. Since it had yet to be hacked and as the vNet just entered its tenth year, the reward stood at ten million dollars. That was a pretty good indicator to him Veil was likely never going to be hacked and there was simply no way around the security of the VSN. There was no way for one to keep from being tracked and eventually located the very instant they plugged into the vNet.
As if that weren’t risk enough, there was still risk number two. If risk number one weren’t enough for him to banish himself willingly into the shadows, risk number two was almost enough to keep him from ever uttering the word Veil itself. He knew he couldn’t be the only one with the problem, but perhaps he was the only one with enough foresight to see what was coming. To see what was in store not only for him but likely for everyone.
Sure, the language of the Right To Veil bill was quite specific in forbidding the interception or storage of any information that passed through the network, but there were no guarantees that would always be the case. There was no guarantee that the law would never allow storage of experiences and memories that traveled through the vNet. The statute was not some kind of moral absolute; it wasn’t some law delivered unto them directly from the mouths of the gods. Society was forever evolving, as were the constitutions and laws on which all nations were built. Veil itself was proof to him of that fact.
Within eleven years, Veil pervaded the world. Veil left its footprint on every aspect of life and, for good or bad, permanently altered the landscape of the world’s culture. Hell, he figured, the sickeningly overwhelmin
g majority of the entire planet already embraced the New Veil World in such a short amount of time. How hard was it to imagine that the tide could eventually change regarding that one policy? How hard was it to imagine a social shift that could one day lead to the storage of information transferred through the Veil Network, through the Veil process itself?
For him, it wasn’t hard to imagine that at all, and he could not have it; he could have no part of it. Not only was he unwilling to risk being tracked through the network, he was doubly unwilling to have his memories or experiences accessed through the network or, worse yet, stored in perpetuity. That could never and as far as he was concerned, would never happen. If it meant relegating himself to the world of the Veilgrants, there was no way he would give up access to himself. Hell, there was still a part of himself he didn’t want to be able to access.
It didn’t start as one of those situations where he expected to surprise himself. Then again, he figured, if one expected to surprise one’s self, then it was really no surprise at all. It must only be situations like the one in which he found himself where one could truly surprise themselves. That thought confused him more, so he decided it was best to keep focused on the situation at hand. There was still some work to be done. Shit, the majority of the work had yet to be done.
After he retrieved the keys to the lab from the target, he opened the door, stood in the doorway and took a quick look around. It was a lot more open than he expected. You didn’t really see many places like that, except maybe parking garages. One huge open space with nothing but support columns to break up the emptiness. It looked like the entire floor simply went unfinished. It was so open. There’s no way he could’ve worked in a space like that; it would’ve been impossible to concentrate. Too much hollowness and echo.
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