Authors: J M Leitch
The Zul Enigma
THE ZUL ENIGMA
What readers around the world are saying about
The Zul Enigma
"I have just finished your book and it absolutely blew my mind into a
bazillion pieces. It was amazing. The plot twist was fantastic and the moral
dilemma was splendiferous. It was the best and most thought-provoking book I
have read in quite some time." Michael Norrie, New Zealand.
"I am not a big reader of books but when I was handed a copy of
The Zul Enigma
I could not put it down.
The ending is brilliant and I, for one, will be going out for a few beers on 20th
December 2012 just to be on the safe side!" Nigel Ames, Indonesia.
“I loved the book. I found it thrilling and hard to put down. It is always a pleasure
to enjoy a book so much. Thank you J M Leitch for writing it. I’ll be waiting
for the next one.” Judy Fallin, USA.
"I am confident that this book will do very well, a smash hit. It is much
better than any other book I have read for ages." Joe Egré, UK.
“The author kept the excitement, pace and direction of the novel most
intriguing right up to the last page. Well worth reading!” Cheryl Roudnew,
Australia.
The Zul Enigma
by
J M Leitch
The Zul Enigma
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JL Press Pte Ltd
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eBook Edition
Copyright J M Leitch 2011
First edition published in print April 2011
Second edition published November 2011 available in print at
most online retailers
J M Leitch asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any
manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
For Irene, Katie and Richard
PART I
PART II
PART III
PART IV
About The Author
APRIL 2068
It took Scott Fuller a full five minutes to recover from the shock. A relative
of the infamous Dr Carlos Maiz, the man charged with committing murder on the
largest scale in the history of mankind, had hunted him down wanting to talk.
He inhaled a deep breath before returning the call.
He explained that Dr
Maiz was hitting the depths of despair at the time they’d met, plus their
contact had been brief. Very brief. A total of no more than fifteen minutes at
most. Not to mention the fifty-six years that had passed since. However, he
assured her, he never for one minute believed Dr Maiz was guilty of what he’d
been accused – to the contrary – he thought the man had done
everything in his power to help humanity rather than harm it, but other than
that, there was not much more he could say.
The woman was silent,
resigned in her belief that Scott would refuse to see her. But she was wrong.
Instead he told her he could understand her reasons for wanting to talk and
asked if she would be free to drop over later that afternoon.
She rented a car through the hotel where she was staying on Miami Beach. After
announcing her destination into the microphone on the dashboard, the vehicle
chauffeured her along the sleet driven streets to an old-style low-rise
apartment block in Coral Gables, a suburb that had retained its exclusivity
from the previous century, located just south of the heart of Miami. Once the
sensors at the entrance verified her identity, two huge metal gates creaked
open and the car propelled itself inside.
The ocean gale was like
a pack of giant wolves howling around the building and tearing its way inland.
She peered out of the front windscreen and up at the trees lining the driveway,
their branches whipped so violently back and forth she feared they might be
ripped right off. Then the trees disappeared from view as she descended into
the basement car park and the noise of the storm receded to be replaced by a
hollow silence. After the car drew to a standstill in the visitor parking area,
she got out and made her way to the vacant lift lobby.
‘Hello. We spoke earlier today. I’m Rachael,’ she said to the elderly man who
opened the front door, ‘Rachael Harris.’
MONDAY 12th – SUNDAY 25th MARCH 2012
CHAPTER 1
Slumped in his chair, Carlos Maiz stared through the office window into the
night and onto the deserted gardens below.
The snow just kept on
falling. Illuminated by beams of distant lights, fat feathery flakes leapt and
spun before drifting down to settle on the frozen ground beneath. No noise
escaped the wintry scene outside as if a dense goose feather quilt had been
tossed over the world, smothering every sound.
If only he could tunnel
into the thick, soft snow. He wanted to bury himself deep inside its silence
and fall asleep.
Fall asleep.
Forever.
‘Sooo… are we going to switch the two afternoon speakers or not?’
Her voice shattered the
stillness, jerking Carlos round in his chair. Gazing straight at him from
across the desk was his administrative assistant, fluffed up like a bird, head
cocked, anxious to get back to business.
God only knew how long
she’d been waiting for his answer and he wished she’d just go home and leave
him alone. He tried to disguise the look of irritation he knew to be spreading
over his face.
She arched an eyebrow.
‘So sorry,’ she said and he saw the corner of her mouth twitch, ‘I didn’t mean
to make you jump.’ Did he detect a hint of sarcasm?
Now, now, Carlos warned
himself. Keep calm.
‘Corrinne,’ he opened
his arms, pleading, ‘why don’t you pack up and go? It’s gone six!’
‘I think we should get
this Session programme finished tonight. Don’t you?’ There she went again,
Carlos thought, acting as if her nineteen years service with OOSA entitled her
to boss the boss around. It made his blood boil.
‘But…’
‘Stop complaining, it
won’t take long,’ she said enunciating every syllable. He hated it when she
spoke to him like that – as if he were a child.
‘I can’t believe we have
to change locations for the Subcommittee Session at the last minute like this,’
Carlos said, massaging his eyes. He was trying to give the impression it was
the circumstances rather than his antagonism towards Corrinne that exasperated
him, ‘and all because the central heating broke down and they don’t know how
long it will take to fix it – hey!’ he gargled the “h” like a “j” in his
Spanish mother tongue, ‘it’s too much!’
‘Old boilers, more
trouble than they’re worth,’ sniffed Corrinne and Carlos shot her a look out of
the corner of his eye. ‘Just be thankful I could pull enough strings to confirm
the Austria Centre at such short notice.’ She leaned forward. ‘Sorry I couldn’t
wait to clear with you first.’ Then with pursed lips she tucked her chin into
her Chanel-clad chest in that annoying way she had whenever she thought she’d
got one over on him.
Although her attitude
maddened him, he knew he shouldn’t let his irritation get in the way and sucking
in a breath he tried to focus. ‘Tonight I’ll re-instigate the top-level
security clearances protocol needs for the new location. What’s the deadline
for the change of venue notices?’
‘Tomorrow, two o'clock.
But if we need another day, it’s okay.’
‘Try to stick to the
deadline. That’s your first priority tomorrow. You know what to do. Then set up
a meeting in the conference room at ten for a final run through of the Session
programme. Be sure everyone knows.’ Corrinne nodded.
Carlos knew he needed to concentrate but it was impossible. The unprecedented
escalation in natural disasters – headline news that day had been yet
another volcanic eruption wiping out a city of thousands and burying swathes of
Java and neighbouring islands in ash – and then there was the threat of
another world war. The whole planet was going insane and it made the upcoming
Session, his job, even his life, seem insignificant.
As he stole a glance at
Corrinne he struggled to shake off the weariness that accompanied his anxiety
whenever he thought about the future. In contrast, she radiated energy. With
her matching accessories, immaculate hairdo and oh so subtle makeup, she hadn’t
flagged a jot since she first stepped into the office that morning.
He watched her beavering
away at the virtual keyboard created by a laser beam streaming from the top of
the little computing device she’d set up on his desk. Her competence, for which
he should have been thankful, grated. He was sure she could do his job –
probably better than he. She made him feel redundant and not for the first time
he wished she’d take advantage of the early retirement package.
‘That’s it, then. I’m
finished here.’
He lifted his arms
hallelujah-style. ‘At last!’ He didn’t even try to hide the relief in his
voice.
She logged out, switched
off the laser, and after folding the free-standing screen, slid it into its
custom storage pocket located on the underside of the latest generation Apple
iTab.
‘I’ll finish up in my
office, then I really must go home.’ She checked her watch as she scurried
towards the door then spun round to peer at Carlos. ‘You look as if you’re
about to drop off. Not surprising, you keep it so dark in here. Shall I make
more coffee? Might help.’
Now she was insinuating
he had to rely on her to keep him awake. But the thought of coffee was too
tempting to pass up. ‘Well,’ he grunted, eyes locked on his monitor, ‘if you
don’t mind…’
‘I’ll top up your water
while I’m at it.’
Carlos turned up Santana on his headphones. Of course, Corrinne’s smug manner
and tireless energy got on his nerves but for some time now he’d realised her
knack of irritating him was the symptom of a problem – not the cause. The
truth was he was losing his grip and her slick efficiency riled him because it
underscored his own shortcomings.
He felt guilty for
allowing their relationship to slip into its current unhealthy state of point
scoring and bickering. It hadn’t always been like that. He and Corrinne were
once a formidable team – but that was back in his early days at OOSA.
Lately, however, he’d felt less and less fulfilled. He’d lost his motivation,
his commitment and his drive, and the more useless he felt the more he knew he
took it out on Corrinne.
Moments later the heady
aroma of freshly brewed Brazilian coffee filled his nostrils as she bustled
back in.
‘Where shall I put
this?’ she asked. Avoiding eye contact, Carlos waved his arm over at the
sitting area.
She set down the tray.
‘Now don’t forget that memo from Hans.’ She was referring to their new Network
Security Manager who was insisting on tightening up procedures at UNO City
where every employee and visitor had to carry a Radio Frequency Identification
tag. Not only did tags register the whereabouts of the wearers within the
building, they also communicated with sensors at the entrances to restricted
zones.
The tags also had
another function: they helped prevent unauthorised personnel accessing
employees’ computer terminal sessions, since each employee had to use his
individual tag to log in and every session was automatically terminated if
there was no activity for five minutes or if the tag went out of range. But
people disliked going through the tedious process of logging in every time they
were away from their terminals for a few minutes and defied regulations by
taking off the tags and leaving them near their computers to ensure sessions
were kept open until timed out. Corrinne knew Carlos sometimes did this too.
‘If you
must
use
the men’s room, don’t leave your jacket on the chair with the tag clipped to it
so you don’t get logged out,’ she scolded, once again treating him like a
child. He barely managed to grunt in reply.
‘See you tomorrow then,’
she said. ‘Don’t work too hard.’ With that parting gibe she left.
Carlos exhaled his
irritation as she disappeared through the doorway. He got up to pour the
coffee. Black, strong with a dash of milk was the way he liked it. When he had
guests Corrinne would bring out the dainty little cups and saucers that he
hated, but when he was on his own he drank out of his favourite big mug with
the constellation of Virgo, his birth sign, on it.
He settled on the sofa
and looked at the wintry scene outside. That was why he kept the lights so low.
He liked to keep his blinds open and set up his iTab on the table there,
especially when he was alone at night, so he could look out at the view from
his ninth floor window. He thought how beautiful the city was with the snow
piled high on the streets and roofs, sparkling in the moonlight, although the
punishing cold spell which was forecast to continue for a couple more weeks had
taken its toll on him. He studied his reflection in the window and sighed at
the sight of his receding hairline and the once chestnut streaks that now
glinted silver. Exhausted eyes stared back at him, the creases round them
permanently etched.
