The Zul Enigma (41 page)

Carlos nodded. ‘Okay…
but it doesn’t matter how many pills I took – it still makes me look
crazy – no?’

‘Carlos. How well do you
remember your conversation with Joseph Fisher?’

‘Not so good. I was
angry he called. All I remember is he said he’d get me out of UNO.’

‘Did he tell you
how
?’

‘Let me…’ Carlos gripped
his head and shook it in frustration. Then he dropped his hands and looked up.
‘
Momento
,’ he said, recollection dawning on his face. ‘I remember now
– he said if I collapsed at UNO, you’d have to take me to hospital in
Vienna. Hey… wait a minute…’ Carlos began to smile. ‘That’s it, isn’t it?
That’s why I took the pills,’ he was grinning now, ‘to fake a collapse!’

‘After talking to Joseph
earlier, that’s what I thought too, but I wanted to hear it from you.’ Greg
slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. ‘You know something, Carlos? When
I explain to the doctors what you’ve been through the past week, I think we
should be able to persuade them you’re as sane as they are.’

CHAPTER 3

‘Ms Lord. Please come in.’

Barbara, who had
jettisoned her fake fur winter coat, looked as cool as Campari poured over ice
in her crimson pencil-skirted business suit. Cocooned in a mist of Chloé, she
strode into Greg’s office. Greg rose from his desk and lumbered over to greet
her. In her heels she was about his height and her bracelets tinkled as she
offered her hand for him to shake.

‘Coffee? Tea?’ Faith
inquired.

‘San Pellegrino.
Sparkling. With ice,’ she replied.

‘And the purpose of this
meeting is…’ Greg began.

‘To compare notes, so to
speak,’ Barbara said, her voice rising at the end of the sentence.

‘Very well,’ he nodded.
‘Why don’t you go first?’

‘Sure, but before we
start, I’d like to enquire about Dr Maiz. How is he recovering?’

‘He’s fine. He was
discharged from hospital yesterday.’

‘Really?’ Barbara arched
a penciled brow. So, she hadn’t known, Greg thought. Warning Carlos not to go
near his home or the office had been the right thing to do and Greg was glad
they’d taken that precaution. He wanted a serious reassurance from Barbara
before he was prepared to let Carlos back out in the open again.

‘Does he need time to
convalesce or is he fit to return to work?’

‘The doctors say he can
come back to work,’ Greg said, looking her in the eye.

She smiled. ‘That is
good news. I’m pleased to hear it.’

Faith brought Barbara
her mineral water with a slice of lemon bobbing amongst the ice cubes, and a
breakfast cup of Lap Souchong tea for Greg.

‘Regarding the Astraea
recording you forwarded?’ Barbara continued. ‘Like the others, it gives us no
clues as to who sent it or where it originated.’

‘I’m not surprised,’
Greg said, lifting his cup and saucer in both hands to blow on his tea.

‘We didn’t hold out much
hope either. All we gleaned is the woman has an English accent. We could tell
nothing from her dress. What was your reaction to the “Zul” hologram?’ she
asked.

‘Interesting. But it
doesn’t give any clues about who sent it, either.’

‘And there’s still
nothing to indicate an underlying motive.’

‘Exactly. But where does
all this leave Carlos? I’d like to hear your official position.’

‘Because we now believe
him about the baby holovideo and we no longer think he played the “Zul”
character, we don’t require him to seek psychiatric help.’

Greg nodded. ‘Good.’ He
blew on his tea again and took a sip.

‘Also… we know how they
got the e-mails in. And the holovideos.’

‘Really!’ exclaimed
Greg.

‘I can’t disclose
details, we still haven’t got the official report from NASA, but it does mean
Dr Maiz is now in the clear.’

‘That is excellent news,
Barbara.’

‘To be frank,
Secretary-General, I always felt our previous position was tenuous at best.’

‘So you’ll let him alone
from now on?’

Barbara’s
raspberry-painted lips widened into a grin. ‘Yes, sir. We won’t be apprehending
him again any time soon.’ She wrapped a tissue round her glass to absorb the
condensation that had formed on the outside. ‘Is there anything else?’

‘Yes,’ Greg replied. ‘I
have another question. Now you know how the messages got in, are you any closer
to finding out who sent them?’

Barbara tapped her nails
on the table and shook her head. ‘No, sir. I’m afraid we’re not.’

***

‘Carlos! Welcome back,’ Corrinne pushed back her chair, rushed up to Carlos and
clutching him by his shoulders, inspected him as if searching for the first
sign of a chickenpox blister on the face of a child. On seeing what she wanted
– or rather on not seeing what she did
not
want – she smiled
her tight-lipped smile. ‘You look
so
much better,’ she said.

‘Thanks Corrinne. It’s
good to be back – and not as a visitor this time,’ he said tapping his
tag.

She let him go and took
a step backwards. ‘You’ve lost weight, but it suits you. It didn’t on Sunday.
You looked terrible.’

‘
¡Graçias!
’ he
laughed.

She tutted and her eyes
softened. ‘You poor man. What a time you’ve had. Thank goodness all this
nonsense is over.’

Carlos nodded. ‘That’s
the truth.’

‘You know, I never
thought you’d gone mad.’

‘I do know. You told me.
And you were the only one who believed in me.’

‘Have you had lunch
yet?’ she asked.

‘
Sí
, but any
chance of a coffee?’

Corrinne tucked her chin
into her chest. ‘What do you think?’

‘Well, bring it on,
Corrinne, I need my caffeine fix. I got a lot of work to catch up on,’ and he
started singing “Gimme Shelter” at full volume, causing her to scurry for the
door.

Corrinne was right, Carlos thought as he sat down at his desk to log in. It
was
a relief that everyone knew he hadn’t imagined any of it. Over the days he’d
been held at the safe house, with so many conflicting thoughts battling in his
head, he’d not been able to think straight and by Sunday he’d crashed so low he
was sure he was going mad.

At last those horrible
days of self-doubt were behind him and once again he was a free man. He thanked
God. And Joseph.

Corrinne backed into
Carlos’s office carrying a tray with a coffee plunger, milk jug and his
favourite “Virgo” mug.

‘Do you want this at
your desk or on the table by the window?’ she asked.

‘The desk. I have to
make some calls. Do you have a number for Joseph Fisher?’

‘Sure. Do you want me to
get him for you?’

‘Yes. And when I’m
finished with him, I want to speak to Erika Stone.’

Carlos pushed down the plunger, poured the coffee and added a dash of milk. He
lifted the big mug and felt the rim thick and smooth against his lips. The
coffee aroma filled his nostrils and the flavour didn’t disappoint. It was full
and bitter on his tongue. He’d missed Corrinne’s coffee while he’d been away.
At the safe house, Mary had always served Blue Mountain, but Carlos preferred
Brazilian beans. Not only was the taste richer, the coffee itself was more
potent and Carlos of all people valued his caffeine fix.

He relaxed back in his
chair. Now the Americans had dropped their case against him one problem was
resolved. But there was still the mystery of who sent the messages and where
from. Of course, Carlos knew. He’d resurrected his belief in Zul. Now it was a
question of convincing everyone else.

***

‘Hey, Joseph. It’s Carlos.’

‘Carlos! You sound
pumped. What’s going on?’

‘I want to thank you for
getting me to hospital.’

‘Are you still there?’

‘No. I’m back at work.’

‘You’re okay then?’

‘Got a bump on my head,
but apart from that I’m feeling better than ever.’

‘Are the Americans still
bothering you?’

Carlos laughed. ‘No
– that’s sorted. Hey, Greg told me you’re back in DC figuring out how the
messages came in.’

‘More information came
to light at the weekend.’

‘The holovideos?’

‘That’s right.’

‘So NASA’s not still
claiming I sent them to myself?’

‘They always thought
that was a stretch.’

‘So… did you work it out
yet?’

‘Yes.’

‘Really! And where they
came from?’

Joseph hesitated. ‘No. That’s
still a mystery.’

‘So how did they come
in?’

‘I can’t tell you. The
report hasn’t gone to the President yet.’

‘Well, when it’s
official, be sure to let me know.’

‘I will.’

‘And what do you think
about the content? You’ve seen it all now, right?’

‘It’s bizarre. All I
know it’s a lot of effort to go to for a hoax that nobody’s claiming
responsibility for.’

Carlos sipped his
coffee. ‘How about blackmail? Or what Bob Anderson thinks – that
someone’s trying to discredit him?’

‘Both feasible ideas,
but there are simpler ways to put either scenario into effect. And why hasn’t
anyone taken responsibility? It’s been two weeks since the first contact.’

‘Exactly what I keep
saying.’

‘Of course the science
is sketchy, but this idea of evolving to higher densities? It’s not the first
I’ve heard about it,’ Joseph said.

‘Really?’

‘Many websites and blogs
have been talking about it for years. Information allegedly channelled from the
Cassiopaeans, the Pleiadians and from Ra. Believe me, plenty of people think
something’s going to happen.’

‘Do you believe it?’
Carlos asked.

‘I don’t know. They say
truth is stranger than fiction.’

***

‘Hey Drew, it’s Erika’

‘Erika! Babe. What’s
up?’

‘I miss you. I’m
lonely,’ she said in a small voice and Drew grinned.

‘Lonely? Impossible with
your two horrors running around. Or are you telling me they learned to be quiet
in the last week?’

‘They’re boys. They’ll
never be quiet.’

‘So… how’s tricks?’ he
asked. ‘Anything from that arsehole ex-boyfriend of yours?’

‘He wasn’t a boyfriend.
Anyhow, what
did
you say to him?’

‘Mind your own business.
It’s boys’ stuff.’

‘Big boys’ stuff, you
mean.’

‘Yeah… well…’

‘But thank you. I was
really scared. Oh, before I forget, Carlos just called.’

‘Really!’

‘He’s out of hospital
and back at work.’

‘No shit! That was
quick,’ Drew hesitated before adding, ‘so why did
he
call?’

‘He has magnificent
Mediterranean manners and he wanted to thank me for driving him to hospital
last Sunday.’

‘That’s a surprise. I
thought you were on his blacklist by association with me.’

‘So did I, that’s why
I’m so glad he made contact. He sounds terrific, you know? Just like his old
self. And guess what? He said the Secretary-General was very impressed with me
the other day.’

‘That’s good to know.’

Erika laughed. ‘We’re going
to meet for dinner…’

‘But Erika… he’s
married…’

‘Not the
Secretary-General you goofball – me and Carlos – after he’s got the
Subcommittee Session out of the way.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘What’s wrong with that?
Perhaps I can persuade him to start talking to you again.’

‘If he takes you out for
dinner, perhaps I won’t
want
him to talk to me again.’

‘What, jealous?’ There
was silence. ‘Drew? Are you there?’

‘Maybe you don’t get
it,’ he said quietly, ‘but I miss you too.’

***

Towards the end of the working day Greg called Carlos asking him to come up to
the fourteenth floor for a chat. There was a lot to catch up on, especially the
“Zul Enigma”, as Greg had christened it.

‘The thing I don’t
understand,’ Greg said, ‘is why you didn’t call Corrinne when this Astraea
woman appeared. Or record the call. That would have proved it right then and
there.’

‘I thought I was
imagining it. It never crossed my mind to get proof.’

‘Well… it doesn’t matter
any more.’ Greg said, tapping the arm of his spectacles on the desk as he
leaned back in his chair twisting it from side to side.

‘Has watching Zul and
Astraea changed your mind?’ Carlos asked.