Veil (72 page)

All but the first press conferences were held
in exactly the same way. The Great Widow Tsay would meet only with
the head of the New Veil World press and only with one camera
present. The Great Widow Tsay would read her prepared statement in
its entirety without interruption.

Afterwards, the Great Widow Tsay would take
three questions, submitted ahead of time. The questions were to
come from one grade school, one elementary school
,
and one high school. The questions were to be
formulated and voted on by the student body. The schools were
chosen at random, and every nation would be included. Adults were
not to interfere in the process in any way.

“Ladies, gentlemen
,
and children of the New Veil World, it is with a smiling heart that
I come before you today to announce the passing of The Jin
Experience bill. As some of you may already have heard rumored, the
Tsay Trustees have crafted, from an anonymous donor, a memory of
the Great Jin Tsay we believe best represents his spirit. It is
with my smiling heart that I am able to share this experience with
the world freely and openly.

“The Tsay Trustees did not wish for any of
you to think your cries for a memory of Jin went unheard or
unappreciated. Until this donor came forward, we were at a loss to
be able to provide the world with what you were so desperately
wanting. As I’ve asked before, so does it still hold true: which of
you would be willing to give away your memories of your beloveds
lost?

“Through
The Jin Experience
, I am able
to give the world what it wants without losing a piece of my own
Jin. I pray you will cherish this experience, and I hope it gives a
glimmer into the man the Great Jin Tsay was when he was simply, Dr.
Jin Tsay. He never knew he was going to change the world. He only
hoped in his heart that the words of his mother and grandmother
would one day ring true when they told him as a child how they knew
he would grow up to create a new future for the world. Jin never
saw the future he created. Jin never tasted our New Veil World.

“Next month, on Jin Tsay Day, the usual Veil
Network will be shut down for twenty-four hours. During that entire
day,
The Jin Experience
will be continuously streamed
through the vNet. Anyone can network-in at any time throughout the
day and receive
The Jin Experience
. After Jin Tsay Day, we
will continue to store
The Jin Experience
inside the Tsay
Temple where it can be Veiled by anyone at anytime for free either
in person or through the vNet. The Veil Security Number and vNet
Protocol address for
The Jin Experience
will be all zeros.
Twelve zeros total.
The Jin Experience
will go live from the
Tsay Temple immediately following its streaming on Jin Tsay
Day.

“Thank you for your patience and
understanding. I hope this news makes your heart smile as broadly
as it does mine.”

Suren ended her statement the same way she
ended each of them:

“Everything I am and everything I do is
because I once loved, and will always love, a man named Jin Hosato
Tsay. Please let everything you are and everything you do serve as
a reflection of the love in your heart. Thank you.”

She then answered the three questions from
the school children. The first answer she gave was “orange.” They
asked her favorite color. She went on to tell them it was her
favorite color because it reminded her of her childhood for some
reason and because when she sees the most beautiful sunsets, the
sun is always bright orange. The second answer she gave was “love.”
The elementary school asked her what she remembered the most about
Jin. She elaborated that she remembered the feeling of being loved.
She remembered how, when he was off work and could sleep in, which
wasn’t very often, he would wrap his arms around her and hold her
tightly while he kissed her neck. Though they might giggle at that,
she said, it filled her with such a feeling of love that each
instance he did so became a moment she longed for time itself to
end. Finally, the third answer she gave was “you.” The high-school
students asked what she thought could possibly come after Veil,
what she thought was next and what was in store for the future.
Suren simply smiled, looked at the camera and said “you.”

For a month, the world buzzed. What was in
The Jin Experience
? Who did it come from? Did it come from
the strange, new blonde-haired
,
heavyset
man who suddenly appeared to be a part of the Tsay Trustees? The
one who seemed to be living in the Old Tsay House? Who was that
man? Where did he come from? How did he know the Tsay Trustees? Why
did it take so long for them to create
The Jin Experience
?
How did they create it? How are they streaming it?

The questions were endless; the buzz was
endless. Both lasted up until midnight preceding Jin Tsay Day.

At precisely 2:12pm on Jin Tsay Day, all four
vKeys began to vibrate
.
Ken wanted
everyone to get the alert at the same time, although he knew they’d
all likely be together and all likely be staring at the same
computer screen for the entire day.

“How do you shut this thing off?” Suren
asked, angry and annoyed.

“Fucking squeeze it,” Hunter yapped. He was
just as annoyed as Suren
,
and he scowled
as she fidgeted with her key.

Suren growled and continued to fight with her
vKey, which was still vibrating.

“Here, give it to me,” Hunter snapped and
reached around Ken’s back to grab it from Suren.

“Fine, you take it,” she snapped back. Hunter
snatched the device out of Suren’s hand and squeezed down on it
with his thumb and index finger. It still didn’t stop
vibrating.

“Damnit,” he growled.

Without taking his eyes off the computer
monitor, Ken reached up, took the key from Hunter, squeezed it
gently with two fingers and placed it on the desk in front of him.
It stopped vibrating.

“What the—” Hunter started to say, but Roy
interrupted him.

“Shhh!”

Hunter was about to go off on Roy but
suddenly noticed what everyone else in the room was staring at so
intently and silently. The computer finally produced a name from
the VSN it picked up from its scan for that one peak reading—the
peak that resonated with Jin’s memory from the exact time he was
murdered.

Flashing beside the VSN it recorded was the
name the computer obtained from the Veil Security Number database:
LUNDY

“Lundy?” came from Brock.

“Yeah,” Hunter whispered, still staring at
the screen.

“That’s weird,” was Brock’s reply.

“How is that weird?” Hunter peeled his eyes
from the monitor to look at his friend.

“One name? Just ‘Lundy’?”

“Yeah, looks like it. He has one legal
name.”

“That’s weird. Lundy,” Brock repeated
himself.

“How is that weird?”

“I don’t know. Just is,” Brock explained.
“Like if you’re only going to have one name and be an assassin,
shouldn’t you have a cool name? A badass one. Like Spike or Blade
or Statham. ‘Lundy’ sounds like the name of a child molester.”

“Why does everything remind you of child
molesters?” Hunter half-joked.

“I don’t know, why does everything remind you
of gay dudes being all gay and having gay sex with other gay
dudes?”

Hunter raised his eyebrows and shrugged.
Couldn’t argue with that, he figured.

As she stared at the wave pattern created by
the memory of Jin’s murder—the neuroelectrical frequency they
intercepted—for the first time, the name of Jin’s killer slithered
through Suren’s lips: “
Lundy
.”

T
wo guards flanked
him and led him, by the arms, down a long wood-paneled hallway.
Their hands clamped down on his muscular triceps with equally
unnecessary force. Without throwing off their synchronicity or
missing a step, both guards propelled one foot forward against the
solid brass kick plates at the base of the courtroom doors. The
grand, lavish doors flung open and the guards escorted him through
the courtroom’s main entryway. They pulled him along while they
marched down the aisle—toward the chair of the Accused.

He was shackled at the wrists and ankles,
with a vertical chain used to connect those sets of restraints. The
shackles on his ankles limited his walk to, at most, a slight
shuffle. He could barely keep up with the guards, and it made for
an awkward looking dance where most of the time they appeared to be
dragging a drunkard between them. He thought the whole thing was
ridiculous and only served to add theatrics. He figured that was
probably what they were after.

Who knows
?

He had never been inside a Surveil courtroom.
He heard about them, read about them, seen them on TV back in the
day—back when TV was still the central feature of every home. He
hadn’t had the pleasure of being inside a courthouse since before
the New Veil World hit. The court appeared nothing like he
remembered, with noticeably fewer tables and chairs. That made
sense, he supposed, because there were no lawyers in a Surveil
court. There were no lawyers at all anymore. There was no need for
lawyers; they served no purpose. At least there was that, he
figured. At least all the fucking lawyers were gone. Hopefully,
they were all dead.

Straight ahead, facing him, stood an
intimidatingly tall—almost comically so—wooden platform, crowned by
an ornate gold-inlaid judge’s chair, which long ago replaced the
traditional bench. The platform was adorned with the Department of
Surveil Seal, displaying the Surveil Judiciary motto, “Justice
Through Veil.” At the bottom of the platform, directly under the
judge’s chair, was a pyramid arrangement of stadium seating for the
court members. The top row contained one seat, for the court
doctor; the second row contained two seats, for case Surveillors;
the third contained three seats, for the press; and finally, there
were the fifth and sixth rows, each consisting of six seats, for
the jurors. Engraved with large block letters, each chair’s
headrest read: “In Veil We Trust.”