The Zul Enigma (19 page)

‘Wait up a moment,’ Bob
shifted in his chair. ‘Anita and I were kicking some ideas around while we were
waiting for you earlier. Dr Roberts has lived near DC – the political
heart ‘n’ mind of the US – for a long, long time. Could one of those
opposition bastards’ve gotten to him, huh? Paid him off to cook up this story
and try to bury me?’

‘There’s no evidence to
support that. There’s no way to hack into Maiz’s terminal, so if Roberts
was
involved, Maiz would have to be in on it because only Maiz could have sent the
messages. Honestly, I can’t see Roberts letting his friend destroy himself in
order to ruin you, even if Maiz was agreeable.’

‘How can you be so
sure?’

‘All our intelligence
confirms Roberts is a principled man and a good friend. He has a rough manner
but a heart of gold. Anyhow, if that
had
been his plan, he would have
leaked the story already. And why would he make his connection with Maiz so
obvious? No,’ she shook her head without disrupting a single hair, ‘that theory
makes no sense.’

‘Okay,’ Bob said, ‘back
to the phone call.’

‘Maiz also told Roberts
he found out from his wife’s autopsy report the day she died that she was six
weeks pregnant.’ Barbara spread her hands making her bangles jangle. ‘She must
have known but never told him.’

‘Is that significant?’
Anita asked.

‘Very. She wanted a baby
and he didn’t. If they hadn’t argued about it, she would never have left him
and got herself murdered. So there’s Maiz sitting at the morgue already feeling
responsible for her death, having his guilt compounded when he discovers that
not only was she pregnant, but far enough gone to have known about it. She must
have brought the baby subject up as a prelude to breaking the news to him, but
when his reaction wasn’t the one she expected, she flew into a rage and left.
Now that adds some punch to the baby hologram.’

‘Yeah,’ Bob said, ‘it
sure does.’

‘Roberts was worried
Maiz couldn’t hide from Howard his conviction that “Zul’s” contact was real,
but although Roberts tried to talk Maiz out of it, he couldn’t stop him getting
on the plane to New York. All he could do was warn him to be careful, tell him
not to mention the baby, and hope ITU-T would resolve the mystery of the
messages before Maiz made an ass of himself in front of the Secretary-General.’

Anita leaned forward.
‘Are you saying Roberts didn’t think Maiz sent the messages?’

‘Yes. He believed
someone else had found a way to access the UN’s system. He was stunned when
Maiz told him about the virtual baby. He thought the messages had pushed Maiz
over the edge, causing him to hallucinate, and that because of Maiz’s unstable
mental state he’d started believing “Zul” was real, because subconsciously he
wanted to create the illusion of some higher purpose in his life.

‘Then the next thing he
hears, Maiz and Howard have gotten an appointment to meet with you. Roberts
couldn’t believe it. He just hoped Howard had a handle on it and that Maiz
would come through without making himself look like a complete cretin.’

‘And now he agrees with
our theory,’ Bob smiled.

‘He agrees Maiz could be
suffering from depression. But that he…’

‘Are you sure no one
else is involved?’ Anita pushed.

‘Anita. There is no
evidence to support it and even if there were, Maiz would have to know about it
because, as I keep reiterating, NASA has not yet found a way anyone could hack
into his terminal. We’re dealing with a man who’s had no contact with anyone
other than business colleagues, family and Roberts since his wife died over
three years ago. He’s a loner, a virtual recluse. Since he’s been at the safe
house, he’s been getting more and more agitated and withdrawn. Right now it
looks like he could be on the verge of complete mental collapse.’

‘He could be faking it.
He was into acting after all,’ Bob said. ‘Perhaps
he
wants to discredit
me. I didn’t like his attitude when I met him.’

Barbara, tugging at the
hem of her skirt to stop it riding up, boosted herself onto the edge of the
couch.

‘There’s nothing to
substantiate him wanting to discredit you. And for him to keep up such a
pretence twenty-four hours a day? It’s extremely unlikely.’

‘And his computers? Work
and laptop, or whatever the hell it is he uses? Anything compromising?’

‘We only had limited
access to the UN system for a short period of time, remember we came in after
NASA, but we didn’t turn up anything significant on his terminal at work. Of
course, we checked his iTab at the house but there’s nothing suspicious on
there either.’

‘Hardly surprising. He’d
be a fool to keep any incriminating evidence.’ Bob leaned in closer. ‘Are you
sure you’ve covered every angle?’

‘Yes. But you know my
view. I’d like NASA to finish their investigation and I’d like to see a
psychiatric assessment before we meet with Maiz.’

‘And you know my
opinion,’ boomed Bob. ‘Every hour we wait increases the risk of this getting
out. So I want it sewn up now.’ He brushed a piece of fluff off his trouser leg
with his little finger. ‘Even if NASA does find new evidence, it won’t affect
our decision now, will it?’

Barbara sighed. ‘No,
sir. That is true.’

‘And there’s no other
possible scenario?’ Anita insisted.

Barbara turned towards
her. ‘Only that “Zul” is indeed an alien.’

‘Spare me, Barbara,
please!’ Bob held up his hands. ‘We all know NASA’s dragging their feet on this
and we all know the reason why. Never mind what I told him, James let something
slip about the investigation and NASA’s retaliating. They’re prolonging
releasing their final report to make me stew.’ He pointed at Barbara. ‘So I
don’t wanna hear any more talk like that from you.’ She dropped her eyes and
stared at her hands. ‘No one mentions the word alien, understood? Not with an
election coming up and the opinion polls dipping the way they are. Are we all
quite clear on that?’

‘Yes, Mr President.’
Barbara muttered.

‘If this gets out now,
it’ll kill me. The last thing I need’s another Roswell. Not on my watch.’ He
picked up the report and flicked through it. ‘What else?’

She sighed. ‘That’s it,
sir. Based on our findings, I’ve dropped the level of surveillance on Roberts.’

‘Fine. Anita?’

She shook her head.
‘I’ve nothing else.’

‘Good. Now, this meeting
Barbara, I’m holding it here and I wanna be present. I wanna see with my own
eyes how Dr Maiz handles himself.’

‘Sir, remember he’s
unwell…’

‘I’m aware of that,’ Bob
cut in, ‘so present your findings and give him his options. But keep it brief.
I want this over as quick as possible.’

‘Yes, sir.’

There was a knock on the
door and Bob slapped down the file. ‘Good timing.’

Amanda showed Carlos
into the office and Tom followed.

‘Come on in Dr Maiz,’
Bob called out from his favourite chair at the opposite end of the room. His
expression was grim and Carlos knew his words weren’t an invitation –
they were a challenge.

Anita was sitting on one
of the couches and another woman, who Carlos didn't recognise, sat opposite her
on the other. Tom closed the door after Carlos and stood with his back to it,
legs apart and arms folded. No one made a move to stand up or shake hands and
by the time Carlos reached the other end of the room he was really worried.
What bothered him most was being called back to the Oval Office. What was so
important that Bob hadn’t delegated the meeting to someone else? Was this
turning into a personal vendetta?

‘Dr Maiz,’ Bob said,
leaning forward and gripping the arm rests of his chair. He nodded in Barbara’s
direction, ‘this is Barbara Lord, my Director of National Intelligence. Anita
you’ve already met. Now, sit down, won’t you. Barbara, you can take it from
here.’

Carlos lowered himself
onto the couch next to Anita. Opposite him Barbara shifted forward preparing to
speak, overwhelming him with the aroma of her perfume. It was a dense Estée
Lauder fragrance, one he particularly disliked. The name escaped him, but the
smell stuck in the back of his throat and made his head ache.

 
‘Dr Maiz, as you know at the
Secretary-General’s request, the President agreed for NASA to investigate the
messages you claim to have received from the one you call “Zul”.’ Carlos wasn’t
surprised to hear the hint of a San Fernando Valley accent – from the
look of Barbara alone, he’d already guessed she came from Southern California.

‘A couple of days ago
NASA gave us a preliminary report. Like your own Network Security Department,
NASA confirms the e-mails you received were spoofed, did not come through the
Internet and originated from your own terminal sessions. However, unlike your
people, NASA has come up with an explanation – the only possible
explanation – that you either alone or with one or more accomplices
recorded the audio and video files, spoofed the e-mails and sent them to
yourself.’

Carlos shook his head in
exaggerated disbelief. ‘Hey, surprise, surprise.’ He knew they’d say Earthly
technology was responsible for the messages, he knew they’d say they came from
his computer and he knew they’d say he sent them. But there were still two
things in his favour. In spite of what NASA said, the final ITU-T investigation
results would be impartial; and since he was innocent there was no motive or
scrap of evidence anyone could uncover that could prove he was guilty. So why
couldn’t he get Drew’s words out of his head. “You can’t go into the Oval
Office and tell the President you’ve been contacted by aliens without someone
pushing the panic button… they’re going to nail your arse”?

Barbara continued, ‘I’m
here because the Secretary-General agreed my agency should corroborate the two
other investigations.’

So that was it. Greg had
handed Carlos over to the Americans on a plate. How could he? Drew was right.
They
were
going to nail his arse.

Carlos closed his eyes
and took a deep breath.

‘We’ve talked to your
colleagues, family and friends. They unanimously confirm that since your wife
was tragically murdered you changed. Drastically. They all concur you became
withdrawn, solitary and started drinking heavily. Many believe you are
suffering with depression. Your friends in Vienna claim you pushed them away
and those from Goddard say you lost touch. With one exception, that is, Dr Drew
Roberts.’

Barbara, who had been
consulting the file, lowered her voice and looked at Carlos for the first time
since they had been introduced.

‘Dr Maiz, we believe
that recently you experienced a significant escalation in symptoms of the
psychological trauma resulting from your wife’s murder, causing you to become
delusional and lead to the course of events we’ve been called in to
investigate.’

‘Jesus!’ Carlos shook
his head again.

‘Now, Dr Maiz. The
messages. Did you act alone or did you have accomplices?’

Carlos lifted his arms
and turned towards Bob. ‘Where’s the evidence, hey? Where’s the proof I sent
the messages? Where’s the proof my mind is lost? You have none! And why’s that?
Because there is none!’ He raised his voice. ‘What you say I did is lies. All
lies.’

Bob stared at Carlos,
his eyes unblinking as Barbara continued, her voice hushed.

‘Dr Maiz, your reaction
doesn’t surprise us but it does sadden us. You are either in denial regarding
your mental state or suffering from…’

‘Denial? Me? You’re the
ones in denial – denial about where these messages are coming from,’
Carlos snorted.

‘Dr Maiz, do you not
recognise the crimes you’ve committed?’

‘Crimes? What crimes?
What are you accusing me of?’

‘How about instigating a
hoax with the intent of threatening homeland security? Now Dr Maiz, do you have
any information to offer regarding accomplices?’

‘You tell me. You think
you know it all.’

‘We believe you acted
alone. To the best of your knowledge, is that true?’

‘If I did it alone, how
do you explain about Zul?’

‘We know you have a
hobby, Dr Maiz. We know you were a member of the drama club when you worked at
Goddard. We know you have experience applying stage make-up. We know you’re an
amateur actor. We believe you filmed yourself playing the part of “Zul”.’

The idea was so
preposterous Carlos was left speechless and for the merest breath of a moment
he saw a glimmer of something in Barbara’s face as, unwilling or unable to hold
Carlos’s gaze, her eyes slid down to consult the file on her lap. But by the
time he’d registered the look, it had dispersed, leaving him wondering if his
imagination had played a trick.

He flung himself back on
the couch.

Barbara continued. ‘We
ran a test to compare your voice patterns with those of “Zul”. The results back
up our hypothesis.’

Carlos was now shaking
his head furiously. ‘Back up you say – not prove – because there is
no proof. How can you accuse me without one piece of evidence?’