The Zul Enigma

by J M Leitch

  ‘So… we’re back to square one, although I can’t discount Dr Maiz as easily as you do. I don’t like the man and I don’t trust him.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean he’s guilty.’

  ‘But if it isn’t him, then who is responsible?’ Bob exploded, ‘and how much longer’s it gonna take till we find out? There’s gotta be some rational explanation.’

  ‘Sir,’ Barbara said, ‘I want to tell the Secretary-General about the holovideo.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘For two reasons. To get him back onside with us and to persuade him Maiz’s communications should be monitored.’

  Bob sighed. ‘I guess you’re right, Barbara. Right now we need to work together. Okay, tell Mr Howard and see what he has to say about it all.’

  ***

  Hans brought the “sniffer” laptop into Greg’s office. As the Astraea holovideo played, he polished his glasses with such fervour Greg thought he might wear away the lenses.

  ‘I don’t know what to make of it. What do you think?’ Greg said, after the recording ended mid-sentence.

  Hans shook his head. ‘It’s the second time I’ve watched it and I still don’t know what she’s going on about. Why’s she pretending to be an alien? And why contact Dr Maiz?’

  Greg shrugged. ‘I don’t have any answers, Hans. I’m as confused as you are.’

  ‘The thing that drives me insane is how are they getting the messages in?’ Hans looked up as he put his spectacles back on. ‘And how did they get a holovideo call through without leaving any record in the logs?’

  ***

  ‘Carlos!’ Greg called as he walked through the door. Wearing hospital issue pyjamas and dressing gown, Carlos was sitting in a chair by the window.

  ‘Oh my! You’re looking so much better. How are you feeling?’ Greg dragged up a chair beside him.

  ‘I got a horrible headache,’ Carlos replied, dabbing at the purple lump on his temple with the tips of his fingers.

  ‘I bet you have. That’s a very nasty bruise you’ve got there. Here,’ Greg dropped a paper bag onto Carlos’s lap. ‘Belgian chocolates. Don’t thank me, thank Corrinne.’

  Carlos opened the box and offered it to Greg.

  ‘Hm. I don’t mind if I do,’ he said as he plumped for a rich brown smooth heart shape and popped it into his mouth. ‘I assume you know where you are?’ he asked, the chocolate making his voice sound sticky and thick, and Carlos nodded. ‘You were in a bad state when I left you here yesterday afternoon.’

  ‘How did I get out of the office? I can’t remember a thing. All I got is big blanks in my mind.’

  ‘Remember talking to your friend Joseph Fisher? You had a holovideo call from him.’

  ‘Sí. Corrinne was in my office when it came in.’

  ‘When she went back later she found you’d collapsed on the floor. She called the UN doctor.’

  ‘Where are the American minders?’

  Greg smiled. ‘We used the freight elevator to get you out. They still don’t know where you are.’

  ‘So,’ Carlos raised his eyebrows, ‘Joseph was right.’ He scrunched up the cellophane he’d taken off the box of chocolates and wedged it down the side of his chair. ‘The consultant said they’re moving me to a psychiatric ward.’

  ‘I thought you’d already be there.’

  ‘They had to delay till tomorrow. No free bed.’

  Greg helped himself to another chocolate. ‘Did they tell you about the drugs?’

  ‘Sí. Amphetamines and Benzodiazepine. I take amphetamines sometimes when I travel and Benzodiazepine to help me sleep. Thing is,’ Carlos shook his head, ‘I don’t remember taking anything yesterday. I wanted to check my briefcase, but they won’t let me have it. I feel like a criminal.’

  ‘I think the Americans would have confiscated any drugs you had on you at the safe house, don’t you?’

  ‘They were there when I left DC. I checked.’

  Greg cleared his throat. ‘They were probably substitutes. But you keep a supply in your office, yes?’

  Carlos nodded. ‘It’s no secret.’ he opened his arms in front of him. ‘Hey, my doctor prescribes them. It’s all legal.’

  ‘Carlos, I’m not accusing you of…’

  ‘But why would I take both? Because I was acting crazy or because I tried to kill myself? I can’t remember – I just can’t remember.’

  ‘Come on, son, don’t get yourself in a state…’ and Greg put the second chocolate in his mouth and chewed. ‘Could there be another reason you took them?’

  ‘Greg, I’m…’ Carlos leaned in closer, ‘… I know I’ve been losing it. But it’s not what you think. Before Zul appeared I was depressed. I didn’t want to admit it, but I guess it’s true. I couldn’t see how we humans could survive what we’re doing to ourselves. And sure… the past week… maybe I’ve confused what’s real and what’s not,’ Carlos stretched out his arms, ‘being locked up for days like that? Not knowing for how long or what was going on?’ he shrugged. ‘It would do anybody’s head in. And yesterday, sí, I thought I was going crazy – that what the Americans said – that what you said about Zul being a cry for help? That it was true. And now there’s the drugs. And I can’t remember taking them. And when I came round last night, I felt so depressed, so… hopeless, I started to believe I did make Zul up.

  ‘But since then I’ve been thinking… and I worked it out. I didn’t make Zul up because I’m crazy, I’m going crazy because everyone says I made Zul up… because nobody believes me,’ Carlos’s eyes burned through Greg’s skull as if he was trying to force his opinion directly into Greg’s brain, ‘and I’m scared these doctors here will get it all wrong too.’

  ‘Listen to me, Carlos. Corrinne stayed with you a long time last night waiting for the doctor’s report. She said you were mumbling about another holovideo call coming in – right after you spoke to Joseph. Do you remember?’

  ‘Sí – a beautiful woman in a long green dress. Astraea.’ Carlos curled his lip in a half smile, ‘and I guess you’re going to tell me I made her up too.’

  Greg bent forward, forearms resting on his knees, hands folded. ‘I had Hans check the logs. There’s no record of another holovideo coming in…’

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ Carlos shook his head. ‘Sure, I’m not surprised. But how am I ever going to make you believe me? It was real, Greg,’ he said holding out his hands. ‘I didn’t make it up. It really happened…’

  ‘Carlos,’ Greg put his hand on Carlos’s arm, his voice low, ‘listen to me. I know you didn’t imagine it.’

  ‘What?’ Carlos froze and Greg leaned back, smiling.

  ‘Yesterday afternoon Hans’s boys set up a sniffer on our system,’ Carlos opened his mouth to speak but Greg raised his small pudgy hands. ‘Don’t ask… it’s a laptop that “sniffs” out problems. They only told Hans about it today. It was disconnected just after three fifteen, after Joseph’s call to you finished. Carlos, it recorded the beginning of Astraea’s holovideo call.’

  Carlos made a sound as if he’d been punched in the solar plexus. Greg continued, ‘It proves the call came in, even though there’s no other evidence of it in the logs.’

  Tears welled up in Carlos’s brown eyes, overflowed onto his cheeks and meandered their way through the dark stubble stippling his jaw. He wiped them away with the palms of his hands. ‘!Graçias a Diôs!’ he whispered.

  ‘And that’s not all. Barbara Lord called me today. The Americans have got a recording of Zul’s holovideo with you at the safe house.’

  Carlos opened his arms wide and raised his face to the ceiling. ‘Thank you, Jesus! THANK YOU, JESUS!’ he shouted.

  ‘So… all this puts a very different light on the matter, don’t you think?’ Greg beamed.

  ‘Now you believe me? Hey? And the Americans? Even if they think I acted Zul, there’s no way they can hang Astraea on me.’

  ‘Not with the body she’s got, Carlos, no way,’ Greg laughed.

  ‘I can’t tell y
ou how good this feels. It’s like a mountain’s been lifted off me. I feel free again.’

  ‘I owe you an apology, Carlos. I’m sorry I didn’t back you up. But you must understand we were all hung up on it being impossible for the e-mails to have got on the system unless you sent them.’

  ‘Even so, you should have believed me,’ Carlos tapped his chest leaning closer to Greg, ‘believed me over them. You should have trusted me.’

  ‘You’re right. I let you down and I’m sorry. But now we must look to the future. We swopped recordings with the Americans…’

  ‘And what do they say about me now?’

  ‘They believe you about the baby and they can’t accuse you of sending the holovideos. Barbara told me their CCTV records show you were nowhere near the safe house computer or your iTab when Zul appeared. She also confided she never did believe you were responsible.’

  ‘How about Bob? And how about the doctors? There’s still the drugs, Greg, and I can’t remember taking them. Or why I took them.’

  ‘The consultant asked me to check for anything that showed what you’d taken or how many, but the cleaners found nothing. It wasn’t till later I realised I shouldn’t have just checked for wrappings I should have looked for the drugs. So Corrinne and I searched your cupboard. We found your wash bag.’

  ‘You were snooping in my…’

  ‘Relax, Carlos. Now we found a bottle of amphetamines and some Rohypnol. But listen, this is important, how many of each were in the bag when you went away?’

  Carlos shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Six, may be eight amphetamines and a couple of strips of Rohypnol,’ he shrugged. ‘I don’t know for sure.’

  ‘I found half a dozen tablets in the bottle and two strips of Rohypnol with four tablets missing. Look.’ Greg took them out of his pocket. ‘I brought them to show the doctor. You see, to my mind if you’d wanted to commit suicide you’d have taken the whole damn lot. Which is backed up by what the doctor said… that there weren’t enough drugs in your system to be severely life threatening.’

  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.
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  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.’