The Zul Enigma (62 page)

It was such a sad farewell. After breakfast we hugged for the longest time and
I tried to impress every essence of that hug into my memory bank, so I can pull
it out in the future when I need comforting. Then Carlos started sobbing. You
won’t even be able to send me photos of her, he said, and I started crying too.
This is not the way we planned our baby to come into the world – with
parents in two different countries – unable to communicate properly. I
took his head in my hands. Darling, I said, I’ll get a message to you the
minute she’s born. I promise. I know you will, he replied.

And we’re agreed… on the
name, I asked. Yes, and he smothered my face with little kisses. Rachael.

Sunday 19th May 2013

I’m in England staying with my parents and our gorgeous Rachael is just one
month old. She is exquisite. The sweetest, most beautiful baby ever. She has a
mop of dark curls just like Daddy’s and her blue eyes are getting darker every
day. I’m deeply ashamed to remember that when I first found out I was pregnant
I actually considered abortion. Thank goodness Carlos was so sure because, as
Erika said to me back then, right now I could never imagine the world without
Rachael being a part of it. I love her so much.

I speak to Carlos every day and it’s killing him not being able to see Rachael.
I want to take her with me to visit, but we’re afraid it’s too dangerous. He
says we must wait for the Tribunal to release its findings.

And I’m not feeling very
positive about that. After hoping at the beginning that the investigation would
get to the bottom of the massacre, every week more stuff comes out in the press
pointing the finger at Carlos and now I’m afraid the Tribunal might make him
their prime suspect. I feel so helpless. Helpless and angry. Especially when
all the arguments they’re using against him are biased and many are plain lies.

The most damaging story
came out after some scientists were debating whether the virus could have been
triggered by a high frequency radio wave. Within hours, an un-named source said
there’d been a Klystron, a machine used to send out radio waves, at the OOSA
office back in December that Carlos could have used to activate the virus. When
I asked him, he said Willem had the unit sent over because of some Space-Based
Solar Power project. But how would Carlos have got into OOSA to set it off. His
clearance was rescinded when he stopped working there in April last year. In
any case, before the virus struck, I was with him the whole time on the 21st
December, apart from when he went to the loo. Also, as Carlos pointed out, no
one said anything about it being connected to an antenna so it could actually
beam a signal out.

I’m just waiting for the
Tribunal to call me in. When they do, I’ll set them straight and no mistake.

It’s comforting to know
Joseph’s there for me. He doesn’t often contact me and never calls just for a
chat like Drew, but the day the UN withdrew their protection he made private
arrangements to have me watched. Trouble is, I get the feeling even he’s
starting to get worried.

Right now I’m scared things might get really nasty. To be honest, I’m
absolutely terrified what might happen.

Tuesday 25th June 2013

Today is my birthday. I’m thirty years old. Today was also the day I received
some more shocking news. The Tribunal’s finished its investigation and will
arrest Carlos for masterminding the global holocaust. When he told me, I
couldn’t say a word… I couldn’t hold back the tears. Don’t cry
querida
,
he told me. But… but it’s unbelievable, I said, they don’t have one scrap of
evidence against you. Are you really so surprised, he asked. They needed a
scapegoat and looks like I’m it.

It makes no sense at
all, I shouted down the phone. It’s illogical. If you were the one behind it
all, why would you give yourself such a high profile role.
Querida
,
shush, stop crying. And then I remembered. Carlos, earlier I was checking
something out… yes, he said… what we talked about last time we were together…
and… well I found something. Beccy, he said, don’t say any more. No, I replied,
I won’t. I just wanted you to know. Perhaps when the time comes, it will help.

So what happens now, I
asked. There’ll be a trial, he replied. Oh darling, I can’t believe this is
happening. After everything you did for the world… I just can’t believe it.
It’s… it’s so unfair. I don’t know where the trial will be, he said. Watch the
news. They’re making the announcement later today. If I hear anything else,
I’ll try and call you.

How can you be so cool,
I sobbed. Beccy, he said, I’ve been sitting here waiting for something to
happen for months. I know it’s not what we wanted and it’s certainly not right.
But it is something. At least now I’ve got a chance to have my say.

I turned on the TV to catch the lunchtime news and sure enough, there was talk
about the Tribunal’s announcement on every single channel. Carlos’s photo is
everywhere with the word, “GUILTY” stamped over it.

I clicked the off button
of the remote, hurled it onto the floor and got up to pace the room. How can
they arrest Carlos. The only answer is that the Tribunal has been compromised,
which means he’s in great danger. And I have this fear, a real cold fear, that
I’m in danger too and that if I don’t keep my mouth shut about what I found out
earlier today, someone else might shut it for me.

Carlos called again a few hours later. Since the announcement was made public,
Greg broke his long silence and bombarded all the Tribunal officials with calls
in his capacity as ex-Secretary-General and persuaded them to take me to
Carlos. I’m to be ready at seven o’clock tomorrow morning when a car will
collect me and take me to the airport.

And what about Rachael,
I asked. I want to meet my baby so much, Carlos said, his voice breaking, you
can’t imagine how much… but… but you have to come alone. Will your parents look
after her. I was silent as my brain tried to weigh the pros and cons of leaving
her behind. But Carlos, I said, I can’t leave her. Beccy, he went on, his voice
stern, it will be a nightmare. It’s the highest profile crime in the history of
the planet. They’re accusing me of murdering six billion people. Think about
it, Beccy. Six billion people. I want you with me. I need you with me. I need
your support. And they’ll call you as a witness anyhow. But believe me
querida
,
it’s no place for our baby.

But Carlos… Beccy, he
said, just because they’ve arrested me doesn’t mean there aren’t some crazies
out there who still want to hurt us. Rachael’s safest left in hiding with your
family. We could put her life at risk if we bring her out in public now.

I couldn’t speak. Beccy,
I heard him say. It’s okay, I murmured, I understand. Now listen. You’ll fly to
Vienna where a car will pick you up and take you to the outskirts of Brno.
That’s where we’ll meet, and I could hear his breathing heavy over the phone.
Greg’s making the arrangements, he said. You’ll be moved in strictest secrecy
and you’ll have twenty-four hour protection.

I felt split in half. I
so want to see Carlos but I can’t stand to leave Rachael.

Then I remembered there
was one more thing I had to say. Something I hoped would protect us. Carlos, I
said, when we talked earlier and I said I’d found something, well, I was wrong.
I checked it out again and I was quite wrong. It was nothing.
Nothing
at
all.

I’m excited and nervous about seeing Carlos after so long – and anxious
about leaving little Rachael. I know she’ll be fine with my mum but I will miss
her terribly. She picked up on my mood and got so grizzly I had to strap her on
my chest in her baby carrier so I could comfort her while I finished packing.
As a result it took twice as long, because I couldn’t carry very much at one go
and I ended up running from room to room like a blue-arsed fly gathering up my
stuff while cherishing the physical contact with my baby, before I have to
leave her for how long I don’t know. Then I called my sister to make sure she’s
in before I dash over to her place and say goodbye.

All I have to do now is
print out what I’ve written today, double check that I’ve erased every trace of
my writings from the iTab and Time Machine, and take the last few pages over to
my sister to put in Carlos’s old briefcase with the rest of the manuscript.
After what I learned today, I’m glad I’ve been so careful hiding it inside the
cover of the stroller a few pages at a time, so as not to draw attention in
case someone’s been watching.

So that’s it. On to the next leg of this adventure we call life; on to a
reunion with my dear, dear man; and on to a future that holds who knows what.

And the only thing now left for me to write is:

Rachael … I love you.

PART IV

APRIL 2068

‘When was your mother’s letter dated?’ Scott asked.

Rachael fished in her
bag for a tissue to dry her eyes. ‘The day after they announced my father’s
arrest,’ she said, ‘the day she left England to meet him.’

‘And how old were you
then?’

‘Less than two months. I
was born on the 20th April.’

‘Tomorrow’s your
birthday?’ Scott said, raising his brows.

‘Yes, I’ll be
fifty-five.’

‘And what did your
mother say in her letter? If you don’t mind me asking.’

‘She said she wrote the
book as a gift for my father. A gift of love. And that I should have it if
anything happened to them.

‘She told me not to
believe the people who discredited him. She said they spoke filthy lies. She
wanted me to know what a wonderful man he was and that she loved him very much.
She said he was selfless and passionate and might end up losing everything he loved,
all because he’d wanted to save the planet from destruction.’

Scott shook his head and
sighed. ‘I never for one minute believed Dr Maiz was guilty. On the contrary, I
thought he did everything in his power to help humanity rather than harm it.’

Rachael looked into his
eyes and saw the truth. ‘Thank you for that,’ she said. ‘You know I can’t begin
to imagine what a dreadful time it must have been for everyone back then,’ and
she glanced past him out of the window and stared at the branches being whipped
and whirled by the storm. Not a sound penetrated from outside. It was like
watching a film with the sound turned down.

Scott leaned back in his
body sculpting chair and sucked in a deep breath. ‘It was, well, it was
catastrophic,’ he said, and she noticed his hands which earlier had been
resting relaxed on the arms of the chair were now gripping them, the knuckles
turning white and the veins standing out a pale milky blue. He wrinkled his
brow and closed his eyes at who knew what memories replaying in his mind. Then
he slowly exhaled and tapped the flats of his hands on the arms of the chair.
‘But somehow we came through it,’ he said with a finality tinged with wonder.

SUNDAY 25th MARCH – MONDAY 30th APRIL 2068

CHAPTER 1

When Rachael read Rebecca’s letter for the first time, the shock of discovering
she was the daughter of Dr Carlos Maiz shook her to her very core. Then seconds
later she found herself weeping. Weeping for sorrow… and for joy. Joy for
knowing her mother had been a writer just like her, and sorrow for knowing so
little else about her.

She took a container of
red wine from her food store and carried it with a glass and the manuscript
into the bedroom where she curled up under the covers.

Eighteen hours later she
finished reading everything – the book and the diary.

She lay in bed thinking
how her mother’s words had fleshed out a virtually tangible image of her father
that she could conjure up in her mind any time she wanted. She admired who he
was. She was proud of what he’d done. And had she met him, she would have loved
him with all her heart.

All the same, it was a
shock to find out her conception hadn’t been planned… and that her mother had
considered aborting her. But, of course, there was her mother’s letter. There
was no mistaking the sincerity of the love it conveyed. There were also the
words her mother had written in her diary. What were they now? Rachael searched
for the entry and read it aloud. “…right now I could never imagine the world
without Rachael being a part of it. I love her so much.” She shook her head and
smiled as she pressed the page to her heart. It was clear by that time Rebecca
hadn’t regretted having her at all. And what a wonderful mother she would have
made. Gentle, sweet and caring.

How amazing that she’d
been a writer too. A journalist. It was obvious from the book she’d had an
instinct for a good story, as well as the tenacity and mettle to run it down.
How Rachael wished she’d known her.

She reread the letter.
It had her reaching for the tissues yet again and she was overcome by sobs so
violent she found herself rocking and keening as she despaired at not having
one single real-time recollection of her birth parents. She wept for the lack
of family memories they should have shared.

Hungry, she took out two food packs from her store. Once opened the rise in
ambient temperature automatically activated a special film inside that in
seconds heated the contents to the perfect temperature for consumption. Then
she sat down and ate the bread roll and bowl of chicken soup – the
comfort food she craved.