Veil (80 page)

Peyton learned in Veillusionism class that
Yoko’s discovery meant Veillusions didn’t have to be written on
paper, memorized
,
and acted out.
Veillusions could be written in the language of brain patterns and
experienced by the brain as reality. Yoko theorized—and quickly
proved—with enough knowledge of neuroelectrical patterns, it was
possible to create fictionalized experience. It was possible to
write a story using digitized neuroelectrical patterns, which The
Witness could then deliver to the brain. The brain would experience
that story as a reality. All Yoko needed to do first was construct
an artificial brain, a vBrain, like the one in the Tsay Temple that
housed
The Jin Experience
. So, Yoko did.

The Jin Experience bill only prohibited the
recording, storing, and streaming of neuroelectrical patterns; the
bill said nothing about creating artificial neuroelectrical
patterns or creating artificial brains. All a Veillusionist had to
do was author a set of neuroelectrical patterns in the form of a
Veillusion: patterns that could be delivered through a vBrain to
tell a story. People could then Veil that vBrain, like they did the
one in the Tsay Temple, and the Veillusion would be delivered to
them, the same way
The Jin Experience
was delivered. And …
it would all be legal.

Although Yoko’s discovery was legal, the
language of The Jin Experience bill was interpreted to mean even
artificial neuroelectrical patterns couldn’t be stored or streamed.
Therefore, Veillusions had to be created on the fly. Essentially,
it was like performing a live musical concert. Veillusionists had
to play an artificial brain like a piano to deliver the story to
The Witness. Afterwards, when The Witness was uploaded back onto
its owner, it would then play their brain like a piano in order to
deliver the Veillusion it received.

The most successful Veillusionists became
those who could author the most detailed, complicated, and
realistic Veillusions. Because everything had to be done live and
on the fly, Veillusionists were limited by sheer practicality. They
could give only so much detail to the neuroelectrical patterns they
authored and only so quickly. They could include only so much
depth, like how a musician could only play so many notes.

Soon, some Veillusionists banded together to
coordinate richer, more faceted and detailed Veillusions. While one
Veillusionist was responsible for writing the signals for feelings,
another would write the signals for thoughts; another would be
responsible for visual signals; another would be responsible for
audial ones. Plus there were all the supporting characters,
environmental aspects, and narrative structures to consider as
well. Some of the Veillusion Orchestras had upwards of 25 to 30
Veillusionists, each tasked with authoring their assigned element
and each bringing their own specialty to the symphony.

Adopting the practice from Old Time
Veillusions, in order to generate revenue
,
vOrchs went as far as letting Veil Advertisers write product
placement into their Veillusions. While most Veillusionists—Peyton
included—had a gut reaction against that kind of stuff, they knew
it was necessary to be profitable, so they yielded—Peyton included.
However, for the vAd to seamlessly integrate into the Veillusion,
the particular product being placed into the scene or background
would have to fit or jive with the main character’s personality or
it would stick out a mile. Like every other element, advertised
products had to perfectly match the main character’s
personality—which in turn actually made the advertisement stronger.
The issue was indicative of how every element in the story had to
originate from the main character’s point of reference.

Because the stories were delivered through a
single artificial brain, there was only room for one protagonist at
a time; the story could only be written from one character’s
perspective. Veilers couldn’t choose which character within the
story they wanted to experience. Not like how they could in the Old
Time Veillusions, which were acted out by multiple Veilactors from
which Veilers could choose.

That was another of Peyton’s points of
contention: being limited to presenting one perspective through one
character. Were storage of artificial neuroelectrical patterns
allowed, Peyton knew Veillusionists would find a way to link a
series of vBrains together and create an interactive Veillusion
between them. Veillusionsts could turn their vOrchestras into
vSymphonies. Each vBrain could be given the same narrative
framework and background, a shared reality. Then, each vBrain would
represent a different perspective, a different character, in the
Veillusion and, when all the vBrains were linked together, a Veiler
could choose which character in the story they wanted to be—by
Veiling that character’s respective vBrain.

The availability of only one perspective in a
Veillusion became one of the major complaints of the older
generations of Veilers. They were willing to forego the absolute
realism of the new breed of Veillusions for the greater detail and
character options of the Old Time Veillusions. The older
generations went even further and claimed that, because they were
Veiling real, living Veilactors, Old Time Veillusions had a more
human feel to them. Peyton couldn’t believe people actually found
Old Time Veillusions to be more realistic than the far more
advanced and direct Veillusions of the day.

As budding new-school Veillusionists quickly
discovered, Veillusionism wasn’t without its own set of
laws
.
There were definitely some
limitations and boundaries Veillusionists had to work within. While
it was possible to create fantasy and fiction, the mind couldn’t be
made to concretely believe something
.
Once
the Veillusion ended, the story was over. The brain would reject
the story if it attempted to alter the mind to the point that it
changed the person’s perception of external reality. More than
anything, the function seemed to be an arm of self-preservation and
self-protection. The mind simply wouldn’t allow itself to be
tricked, driven mad, or absolutely convinced of something
untrue.

Since Veillusionists couldn’t change
someone’s entire reality to the point where the person’s perception
of external reality was altered, Veillusions couldn’t be used as
some giant propaganda machine. It was purely entertainment.
Veillusionists could make people fly; they could make aliens
appear; they could send people traveling through time and space.
However, they couldn’t convince someone that,
Total Recall
style, they weren’t really who they thought they were.

vFlatlining didn’t work through Veillusions,
either. Accompanied by schematics for manufacturing an artificial
brain, the single doctrine Yoko did release likened the phenomenon
to how the human brain perceived computer generated characters or
robots. No matter how strikingly realistic a computer generated
character or a robot, the human brain was always able to look into
its eyes and tell it wasn’t real. Yoko stated that something in the
human eyes—some spark—somehow signified realness to other humans.
Yoko believed something in the depths of the eyes reflected a
history, a person, a life.

Yoko imagined the mind worked the same way:
it could sense somehow that a Veillusion wasn’t from a real person.
Perhaps a Veillusion didn’t have the right weight or the right
depth; perhaps it didn’t have the right amount of history or the
right texture. There was just
something
. Whatever it was,
the mind could tell a Veillusion was, in fact, a Veillusion and
therefore, not real. Because of that, a Flatline Veillusion—one in
which the main character died or was killed—didn’t have the same
effect as a real vFlatline memory. In a Flatline Veillusion, no one
real
actually died, and the brain knew it. Somehow, it
simply knew. Probably the same way the mind knew not to let someone
all out
Total Recall
it. At least, that was what Yoko
figured.

Peyton seethed daily. She believed the
limitations imposed by The Jin Experience bill were an injustice to
Veillusionists. She was convinced that simply allowing the storage
of artificial neuroelectrical patterns would throw open the doors
for Veillusions and make an entire world of possibilities
available.

Because of the damn bill, Veillusionists felt
as if they were pouring their art through a funnel—which only
emptied into a thimble. Peyton could barely imagine what she and
other Veillusionists would produce if they were allowed to store
the artificial neuroelectrical patterns they authored. She could
only wait, imagine it, and seethe.

She knew the influence of the Tsay Legacy
wasn’t going to die down any time soon, especially to such a degree
that the Veillusionist lobby could sway Congress to overturn or
rewrite parts of The Jin Experience bill. That was doubly true
while the Widow Tsay was still alive. Or any of the Tsay Trustees,
for that matter.

Peyton recognized that, although the
influence and power of the Trustees waned (as had their air of
royalty), they had not disappeared completely. For the bill to get
overturned or rewritten not only would the Widow Tsay miraculously
have to change her mind or die, Hunter Kennerly and Roy Houze
would, too. As the three remaining Tsay Trustees, nothing would
happen until they died or changed their damn minds.

Like everyone else raised in the New Veil
World, Peyton was familiar with the so-called Veil Apocalypse that
Ken and the Trustees espoused. That potential future of Veil was
drilled into everyone’s head after
The Jin Experience
was
released. The dangers were taught to future generations of Veilers.
Peyton understood the damn dangers. She even somewhat agreed that,
were society to allow storage of real neuroelectrical patterns, it
could lead to problems. She was sure it could lead to problems she
couldn’t foresee.

She knew the Veil Apocalypse lessons tried to
educate Veilers about all the potential risks—but who paid
attention to that kind of stuff when they were a kid? In the end,
Peyton knew enough to understand how it would totally be a bad
thing if they allowed for storage of real neuroelectrical patterns.
She also recognized how that risk was the Widow Tsay’s main reason
for blindly, stubbornly supporting the bill for all those
years.

However, allowing the storage of
artificial
neuroelectrical patterns solely for the purpose
of Veillusions was completely different. As far as Peyton was
concerned, none of the Veil Apocalypse arguments held up if one
only considered storage of artificial patterns and only for
Veillusions. Peyton waited as long as she could and then realized
what she had to do and how to do it.

She knew it was a risk. What she was
considering could mean losing her Right To Veil permanently,
especially if she pissed off the Great Widow Tsay. She decided it
was a risk worth taking. To do what had to be done, Peyton had no
choice but to tiptoe around the law and keep her work undetected,
which meant keeping it off the vNet. When was she finished, she
would have to take her crime with her and visit the Great Widow
Tsay. Peyton prayed to Almighty Jin that she could sway the old
woman.

“There’s someone here to see you.”

“What do you mean there’s someone here to see
me?”

“Um, exactly what I said. There’s someone
here to see you. A young lady. She said it’s about the Legacy and
the Trustees. She said she has something you’ll want to see.”

“And she just showed up here?”

“It’s not like we’re hard to get to anymore,
Suren. It’s not how it used to be. We’re not untouchable. So yeah,
she just showed up here.”

“I see. Let her in. Have her sit in the
garden room.”

“Ok.”

“And Roy,” she shouted after him.

“Yes?” He peered around the doorframe.

“Will you fetch my sunglasses and big white
hat?”