Veil (75 page)

“No.”

“Hunter—”

“No.”

“Hear me out.”

“Fucking no.”

Ken slammed his fists down. The three glasses
sitting on the counter shook and the ice clinked loudly.
“Hunter!”

“This isn’t getting us anywhere, Ken,” Suren
interrupted. She was annoyed and already knew how the situation was
going to play out, so she didn’t think they should have to suffer
through the theatrics.

“You shut up, Wong Foo!” Hunter pointed at
Suren and then at Ken. “And you fucking lied to me. We were naked,
and you lied to me. I asked you straight up if you knew what her
plan was. You lied.”

“I didn’t lie; I didn’t know at the time. And
if you really want to know, it was my plan. She was right; it was
my idea.”

“What is wrong with the two of you? Why would
either of you think this is a good idea? It’s a bad idea, and it’s
not necessary. At all.”

“You know no one can Veil her,” Ken tried to
reason with him.

“So what?”

“So, if no one can Veil with Suren, then
someone has to make sure he Atones for Jin’s murder.”

“One, the man isn’t there anymore. His brain
is cat litter. Two, it doesn’t have to be
you
. Just because
Suren can’t make him Atone for Jin’s murder doesn’t mean
you
have to be the one. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean it has to be
this way—using
that
.”

“Think about it Hunt. Think about how—” Ken
started to say.

“No!”

That time it was Suren who brought her fist
down on the counter. “Let him finish, Priscilla Queen of the
Vodka!”

Hunter raised his eyebrows at Suren for a
moment but relented.

Ok, ok … Miss Saigon been doin’ her
homework. Whatever.

“Fine, finish,” he puffed and waved his hand
with a flick of his wrist. “I’m making another drink.”

“Hunter, I have the one thing that could
finish this. The one thing that could finish Lundy. Think about how
poetic it is—executing him with Jin’s very own memory. And the
court would have no idea. I could go in there, deliver Jin’s memory
to Lundy
,
and walk out. Before the court
doctor had a chance to intervene, it would be too late. Besides,
they’ll probably think he died naturally. He’s already gone through
almost ten times more Veil Atonements than anyone else—ever.
They’ll think his brain or his heart couldn’t take any more so he
dropped dead.”

Hunter took a large gulp of the drink he
poured and sucked air through his teeth. He clicked his tongue and
finally responded.

“I know all of that. And you know my point.
What about your brain? What about your heart? What about what it
will do to you? After everything you’ve been through, how do we
know this won’t be the final straw? We’re pretty much shooting in
the dark here
.
We have been from the
beginning. We have no idea what this will do to you.”

“It’s a small risk that I’m willing to take,
Hunter. It’s a risk I want to take. For Jin.”

Hunter rolled his eyes and looked at Suren.
“And you? You’re willing to let him take this risk? So you can
finally get your revenge? You’re willing to risk
my
Ken for
that worthless piece of shit?”

“I’m willing to let Ken decide for himself.
It was his idea; it’s what he wants to do. It’s up to him.”

“I helped you,” Hunter slightly slurred and
wagged his finger at Suren. “Have you forgotten already? Forgot
everything else I’ve done for you? I was the one who worked with
the investigators and let them Veil my memory from when the General
admitted he had Jin killed. Without that, without my memory, they
would’ve had nothing. No reason to go after him. Nothing. Did I say
nothing? … And not only did it lead to the General’s execution, but
to Schaffer and Pollock’s sentences as well. Way before vAtonement
was ever put in place. The General was fucking executed, and those
two poor bastards are still in jail. For life. Because of me.
Because of my fucking help. All of which I did—
for you
. And
now this is how you repay me? By taking his side?”

“It’s up—to him,” she repeated herself
flatly
.

“Fine!” Hunter screamed, took a large gulp of
his drink, and threw his empty glass against the wall directly
behind her. He stormed out of the kitchen.

As Ken went for a rag, the two of them
remained silent and could hear Hunter screaming to himself from the
other room.

“They’re both stupid fucking crazy
bitches!”

Lundy was pushed through the main entrance of
the courtroom by two guards. He was strapped down into a wheelchair
by his arms and legs. Judging from the commotion and chanting he
could hear coming from outside the courthouse, he was expecting the
courtroom to be chock-full of people. Family members, press,
observers, people who wanted to get a look at the killer of the
Great Jin Tsay, or people who wanted to get a look at the Great
Widow Tsay herself. He was expecting a swarm of people,
shoulder-to-shoulder, unable to move.

Good
.
Let’s give ‘em a goddamn
show.

When the doors swung open, only five people
in the section for the victim’s family greeted Lundy. There was a
man in a wheelchair positioned behind the last row of seats. He
obviously couldn’t fit in the rows and would block the aisle if he
were positioned next to the row where everyone else was seated.

Lundy immediately recognized the other four
people who were seated in the back row, and then the identity of
the man in the wheelchair dawned on him as well. Those were the
famous five Tsay Trustees. All five of them, in the flesh. Suren
Tsay, Ken Wise, Hunter Kennerly, Brock Elsbeth and one more person
whose identity had not been announced but whom Lundy recognized
immediately. He was the fucking guard from the hospital: the lazy,
fat fucking guard.

Another thing dawned on Lundy. Through his
cloudy, jumbled, swirling thoughts, he realized that fat fuck was
probably the person responsible for the vFlatline memory. Jin
Tsay’s memory. That’s who released it. The one who sold it to that
annoying little troll at the shop.

Motherfucker
.

What a fucking fat, lazy snitch. As much as
he was able, Lundy laughed to himself. He wondered what the Great
Cunt Tsay would do if she knew how much money the fat man sitting
beside her earned from selling the memory of her husband’s murder.
Better yet, he chuckled to himself, her husband’s memory of being
murdered.

He heard whispers and rumors about a memory
available on the black market. A memory that had something to do
with Jin Tsay’s death. Supposedly, it was a memory of Tsay’s
murder. Lundy had to see it for himself. See if he had another
loose end to add to the list of those that were in need of tying
up.

That was exactly why Lundy never let himself
be shadowed. He had a private vPort installed and everything, to
make sure he could get around the whole ‘voyeur’ clause of the
Right To Veil bill. If someone paid for their own vPort, they
couldn’t be forced to let Veilers shadow them. Nobody was going to
shadow him. No
fucking
body.

Initially, he thought maybe the source of the
rumored memory was that soldier from outside Tsay’s lab, the one
who helped him move Tsay’s body. Then he heard about how that idiot
soldier set himself on fire outside of the Tsay Temple. Apparently,
he was afraid they’d track him down and he’d suffer the same fate
as the General or those two military scientist faggots.

Lundy did the math and realized chances were
the memory wasn’t from the soldier. The kid offed himself before
the memory market became some giant underground phenomenon, so it
was highly unlikely it came from him. Lundy had to see it; he had
to see what was in it and where it came from.

When he called the store, the owner informed
him the memory was a vFlatline and anyone who bought it needed to
know about the risks before they could purchase it. Lundy
immediately realized what the memory contained. He knew Tsay
survived at the hospital for a period of time
,
so it wasn’t a stretch for him to imagine that one
of the staff realized who Tsay was and decided to profit off it.
Hell, he could see himself doing that.

Who knows?

All that mattered was that the memory
couldn’t be used to identify him; that’s all he cared about. As
time went on, he realized the memory could be utilized for other,
more personally useful purposes. All thanks to that fat fuck
sitting right over there next to the Great Whore Tsay. Lundy
suddenly found himself wishing he spat on that pizza. Or worse.

The guards rolled Lundy past the four Tsay
Trustees. They all sat frozen, motionless
,
facing forward. As Lundy was escorted through the gallery, each of
the Trustees refused to look at him, just as the families of all
his other victims had. As if he were too disgusting to look
at
.
As if he didn’t deserve for them to
look in his direction.

The ninety-nine Veil Atonements he suffered
through in those last few weeks left him fundamentally changed. He
was constantly overcome with regret and guilt over every crime he
ever committed. He was on the verge of tears at every moment. He
was on the verge of tears for no reason. Lundy was broken,
defeated.

However, what little did remain of his once
over-healthy ego simply couldn’t let him feel the same about the
Tsay murder. It wasn’t the same. The Tsay murder, the Great Wench
Tsay, and now that fat fucking guard. They were the reason he was
in that courtroom in the first place. The other ninety-nine trials
would have never happened if not for Jin Tsay. Jin fucking Tsay.
Such a small blip on his radar. Such a meaningless elimination that
he barely remembered it—even as Veil was first announced.

After the guards finished preparations they
sent the signal and the court doctor entered, followed by the rest
of the court members. Lundy didn’t even feel the guard insert the
deck into his vPort that time. Then again, he figured, he didn’t
feel any of that shit the last eighty fucking times either, so why
should that one be any different?

As everyone took their seats, Lundy noticed
they were all wearing pins in the shape of little ribbons. The
ribbons all said the same thing: “Justice For Jin.”

How fucking cute.

Lundy scanned the faces of the court members,
and as they always did, they were staring directly at him. Except
that time, Lundy noticed … that time they were all smiling. They
were all smiling at him. He whipped his head around as far as he
could, which wasn’t far, but it was enough to see the faces of the
Tsay Trustees as well. They were all smiling, too. Everyone in the
courtroom was looking at him and smiling. Everyone was smiling, as
if they were all in on the same joke—as if
he
were the
joke.

“Why the fuck is everyone smiling?” he
shouted as loudly as he could, which in his condition wasn’t very
loudly at all.

One of the guards elbowed him in the side of
the head to shut him up. Before he could respond, the judge entered
the courtroom and the other guard instructed everyone to rise. The
only people who did not stand were the two men in wheelchairs.