by J M Leitch
‘Well that’s bloody magic. But he’ll need to change a whole bunch before he’ll ever forgive me,’ Drew said.
‘Sure. But it’s possible. And I thought you should know.’
CHAPTER 7
‘This Austria Centre’s okay,’ Carlos said, opening his arms and turning around in a circle. It was after eight thirty in the evening. He’d just got back from DC and had to meet Corrinne and OOSA’s Associate Programme Officer for a walk through of the venue for the Legal Subcommittee Session he was to open the following morning.
‘We were lucky to get it at such short notice,’ Corrinne said.
‘All thanks to you pulling some strings,’ Carlos replied and Corrinne tucked her chin into her chest trying to hide the colour flushing her face.
They walked into the conference hall. Many bosses wouldn’t have bothered to do the walk through, Corrinne thought, but Carlos was a perfectionist.
When they were done he said, ‘Corrinne, I need to talk to you.’
She pursed her lips. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No. Nothing’s wrong. You and Willem have done a terrific job. It’s nothing to do with the Session. Come on, we’ll go back to UNO and I’ll buy you a drink.’
She glanced at her watch. ‘I really should be getting home… my husband… and I need to be back here again first thing in the morning.’
‘Take a cab. Put it on expenses. This won’t wait,’ and Carlos strode off down the corridor connecting the Austria Centre with UNO City. At the coffee shop a surly waitress took their order – a beer for Carlos and herbal tea for Corrinne.
‘What’s so urgent?’ she asked when the waitress had finished.
‘Corrinne,’ Carlos looked solemn, even a little sad, ‘this is my last Session.’
‘What?’ she said wrinkling her forehead, the pupils of her eyes two intense black dots.
‘I’ve resigned.’
‘Resigned?’ she echoed. ‘But why?’ her voice sounded too high-pitched. ‘It’s Zul, isn’t it? And the Americans,’ she covered her mouth with her hand. ‘You haven’t fallen out with the boss about it, have you?’
‘Hey, hey! Slow down,’ Carlos said smiling. ‘I haven’t fallen out with the boss but you’re right, it is because of Zul. But I’m not leaving the UN. I’ll be setting up a new initiative. It’s unique and needs to be rolled out all over the world. Because I’m the one Zul contacted, Greg’s agreed to let me head it.’
‘Carlos!’ Corrinne shrieked, ‘you don’t still think this Zul’s real do you?’
He smiled. ‘I do, but Greg doesn’t,’ he held up his hands. ‘Yes – Greg knows what I think. Either way it doesn’t affect the initiative… that will be a good thing… regardless.’
‘What’s it about?’
‘Meditation. Zul warned me by the end of this year every single one of us needs to become a better person. Not just for our own individual good but for the survival of the planet. We have to start putting others first, to act less selfishly. By practising meditation, it will help us increase the level of our combined consciousness and let us create a better future for our galaxy.’
‘And that’s the project you’re going to head?’
‘Don’t look so sceptical. I believe in it. Since… well,’ Carlos looked down at the table, ‘you know… I’ve not been myself for the last few years, but this? I’m passionate about it,’ he opened his arms wide. ‘I want to put everything I can into it. It’s a huge job, but I’m ready.’
‘Oh Carlos. We’ll miss you. Especially now we’ve got our “old” Carlos back.’
He laughed. ‘You say that, but I know you. You can’t wait to get a normal boss again,’ and she dipped her head and gave a little laugh, knowing there was more than a grain of truth in what he said. ‘In any case, I won’t be far away – I’ll still be in the same building.’
The waitress clattered the tea down at Corrinne’s elbow, slopping some of it into the saucer and slammed a frozen glass and an open bottle of beer in front of Carlos.
‘When do you leave us?’
‘Two days after the Session finishes I fly to New York for a week with Greg. Then I come back here and start.’
‘So fast!’
‘I’ve got a lot to do. We need to see results before the end of the year.’
‘Who’ll take over from you? Willem?’
‘Sí. I’m impressed with what he’s done with no warning and almost no guidance.’ Carlos poured his beer and drained nearly half the glass.
‘I like working with him too. But Greg must think this new initiative’s really important to take you away from us.’
‘If what Zul says is true, it could affect the future of the planet and everyone on it.’
With her elbows resting on the table Corrinne cradled her teacup between both hands and peered at Carlos over the rim. ‘Don’t say any more. Honestly, I don’t want to know,’ and he smiled. ‘Oh! I keep meaning to tell you. Rebecca Marshall called on Friday.’
‘Who?’
‘Rebecca Marshall. That reporter from National Geographic. She’s finished the story on the Space Elevator and wants to go through it with you. She’s worried there are some inaccuracies.’
‘Of course this week’s out,’ Carlos said. ‘The earliest is the weekend. Before I go back to New York again. See if she can make lunch on Saturday or Sunday.’
***
‘Hey Drew. It’s me.’
‘Erika!’
‘Got a moment to talk?’
‘A moment’s about all I do have.’
‘You’ll never guess.’
‘What?’
‘I spoke to Corrinne this morning.’
‘And?’
‘Carlos quit.’
‘You’re shitting me. He’s leaving the UN?’
‘Not the UN. Just OOSA. He’s putting together some global initiative.’
‘Right… Joseph mentioned it.’
‘Promoting meditation.’
‘Don’t tell me he’s gone off his rocker again.’
‘Drew!’
‘I… it’s… oh Erika… it’s to do with all that shit that went down last month. The reason he ended up in hospital.’
‘I don’t know about that – Corrinne’s being very evasive. All she said is Carlos is back on a big high. In fact, she said she’s never seen him so passionate about anything… ever.’
‘That man – I tell you – he’s always going off half-cocked about something.’
‘Give him a break, Drew. Can’t you just be pleased for him? He’s had such a tough time.’
‘Yeah, I know. I just hope it won’t do him more harm than good.’
‘And what about you? Any nearer deciding whether you’re going to stay at NASA?’
‘I can’t talk now,’ he lowered his voice, ‘but the whole camaraderie thing here’s taken a dive since the budget cut proposal. I don’t know what to do.’
‘Did Joe talk to you? He told me he needs someone like you in Vienna for the joint venture project he’s setting up.’
‘Yeah, he mentioned it. We’re meeting next week.’
Erika paused. ‘It would be nice to have you living in the same country again.’
‘Yeah,’ Drew said, ‘I’d like that too.’
***
Carlos was sitting in the glass-covered atrium of Café Landtmann reading his newspaper and drinking a brauner, black coffee with a dash of milk. He’d arrived early to make sure of a table, since he knew how busy it could get there, especially on a Sunday.
He spotted Rebecca through the window as she walked along the pavement, hands in her pockets and heading into the dry warm wind that announces springtime in Vienna. The change in temperature had transformed the city. All around in the parks, at street intersections, in hanging baskets, in window boxes and in pots on balconies, there had been a colour explosion as the spring flowers bloomed simultaneously. Everyone was breathing a collective sigh of relief to see the end of such a bitter and punishing
winter.
Rebecca was wearing a light blue cotton jacket over her T-shirt and jeans and Carlos watched as she walked in and hesitated, overwhelmed by the high ceiling, the huge chandeliers and the utter opulence of the restaurant’s furnishings. Amused by her reaction, he stood up and waved to attract her attention. She zigzagged her way through the tables towards him and after they shook hands, a uniformed waiter pulled out a chair for her.
She shed her jacket and laid it across her lap. ‘Wow!’ she exclaimed, ‘this is incredible. I’ve seen a few amazing places in Vienna, but this,’ she said looking around with wide eyes, ‘this takes the biscuit.’
Carlos laughed. ‘I’m glad you like it. It’s a Viennese institution – one of the most elegant cafés in town.’
‘So I see! It has a fabulous atmosphere. And it’s so busy.’
‘It got famous during the Second World War. It’s where all the spies used to meet.’
‘They couldn’t have been very good – not if everyone knew where they were,’ she said, making Carlos laugh again and when she joined in he was reminded of what a very pretty smile she had.
‘So,’ he said, ‘why don’t I read the article while you look at the menu?’
After finishing their main course, Rebecca ordered the café’s signature coffee – mocha with brandy, coffee liqueur, whipped cream and sprinkles; and apple strudel, while Carlos had another brauner.
When the slice of dessert powdered with icing sugar and presented on a fine bone china tea plate appeared, Rebecca’s eyes sparkled. ‘This looks absolutely delicious,’ she said glancing up at Carlos, who smiled at the expression on her face.
He sipped his coffee. ‘Tell me, who else do you write for. You can’t just freelance for National Geographic?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve got a full-time job. I’m Editor of the BBC Focus Magazine based in Bristol.’
‘Ah sí. I know it.’
‘I’ve been there four years. I just got promoted to Editor a few months ago. But …’ she chased a piece of strudel around the plate with her pastry fork, finally resorting to using the tip of her forefinger to keep it still as she slid it onto the prongs and lifted it to her mouth. She wiped her finger on the huge white linen napkin lying on her lap as she chewed.
‘But…’ Carlos prompted and she looked sideways at him from under her long thick lashes.
‘I know it sounds unprofessional just getting promoted and everything, but I realise now,’ she pulled a face, ‘it’s just not what I want.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘It’s a great magazine, don’t get me wrong, and a wonderful team, and I love what we’re doing – bringing science into the lives of the general public… but… but the truth, is I’d rather be running down the stories than worrying about circulation and legal suits.’
Carlos nodded. ‘I know exactly what you mean. I’ve been there too. I was so happy at NASA. Then I took the job at OOSA and, well, my life changed. I went from scientist to bureaucrat-diplomat-manager. It was okay at first, but now I hate it. I miss being in on the buzz of new discoveries and groundbreaking developments.’
‘I had no idea,’ Rebecca said, brown eyes shining. She leaned forward. ‘So what did you do about it?’
He also leaned forward, touched by her interest. ‘I quit,’ he whispered.
She threw her head back and laughed.
‘What’s so funny?’ he asked.
‘I’ll tell you later,’ she smiled, but then her expression changed. ‘Oh no! You just buggered up my piece for National Geographic.’
Carlos grinned. ‘Sorry about that!’
‘So… what will you do?’
‘I’m heading a new initiative for the UN. I’m very excited about it.’
‘Tell me more,’ she said with that eager look again. ‘Is it something to do with outer space?’
‘I can’t say anything yet. This new baby’s only a few days old. Anyhow,’ he flung his arms up in the air, ‘enough about me. What about you?’
‘I’ve just handed in my notice too. That’s why I was laughing.’
‘And do you have another job?
‘No. I want to freelance. At least for a while. Until I decide what I really want to do. Actually I’ve always wanted to write a book.’
‘A book? What about?’
‘I don’t know. I’m waiting for inspiration. But I do know I want to move out of Bristol. It’s not the most stimulating place on the planet – at least for me it’s not.’
A waiter arrived to clear the crockery and Carlos asked Rebecca if she’d like another coffee.
‘Where will you go?’ Carlos asked. ‘London?’
She shook her head. ‘I’d like to end up in New York. It would be good for my career. But first I want to see Europe. And I’ve worked out how. Swine flu! People are queuing up to give out free vaccine in places like Africa and Afghanistan… but how about the low-income families in developed countries?’
‘So that’s how you plan to travel round Europe. Volunteering with the UN.’
‘Exactly!’
Carlos smiled. ‘Fantastic! And if you come back here, you must stay with me,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a big apartment – a penthouse on top of a converted palace.’
‘Ooh! That sounds posh,’ Rebecca said raising her brows.
‘It is. It even has a night club in the basement!’
***
‘That about wraps it up I think,’ Greg said draining his tea. He and Carlos had spent the past week working on the meditation initiative.
‘Sí. And thanks for all your help and support. I… I didn’t expect you to…’
‘Carlos, you are most welcome. Zul’s appearance has been a wake-up call for me too. It reminded me what the UN was set up to achieve, “the big picture” so to speak. Too few people remember the passion and spirituality this organisation was based on. Even I’d forgotten, I’ve been so focused on the day-to-day grind.’
‘It’s only since talking to you I see how pivotal the concept of meditation has always been.’ Carlos rubbed his hands together, ‘and now we’ve confirmed the launch date…’
‘There’s a huge amount of work to do. Are you sure you shouldn’t give yourself more time?’
‘June 4th is good. After the announcement by satellite transmission, we’ll target religious, educational, commercial and government organisations. Those four segments are the main thrust and will give us the chance to reach nearly every human on the planet.’
‘What you’re doing is really something. But what happens after the 21st December?’
‘Those of us left will have to pick up the pieces and build a new future. That’s where I think I can help. Setting up guidelines for planetary management…’
‘Planetary management… the vision you described when we flew to DC?’ Carlos nodded. ‘I like that term,’ Greg said, and he smiled. They had achieved so much and at last he was experiencing the kind of gratification from his work he always imagined he should. Who would have thought it would take Carlos and his aliens to make that happen?
***
‘Hi, Erika,’
‘Drew! I was about to call you.’
‘Listen, I want you to know, I’ve made a decision. I’m accepting Joe’s offer.’
‘Oh…’
‘I’m moving to Vienna.’
‘Oh, Drew…’
‘Are you there?’
Erika wiped her eyes with her free hand. ‘Sure. I… well… I didn’t think you’d take it.’
‘The redundancy package NASA’s offering is bloody generous and there’ll be a glut in the market for us guys if the budgets are cut and we’re all laid off. New jobs here will be hard to come by. Joe’s offer is a good one. I’d be a fool not to take it. But it’s not just that. Truth is, I want to be near you.’
CHAPTER 8
‘Signore Maiz! Where have you been a-hiding?’
‘I know. It’s been too long.’
‘Your usual table?’
‘Not tonight – I’m meeting a friend.’
Once seated with a bottle of his favourite Chianti uncorked and breathing, Carlos gazed round at the other diners.
Then he saw her.
She wore a black lacy dress with sleeves to her wrists, the chasteness of which contrasted with the low, scooped neckline. Her fair hair was swept on top of her head and stray locks curled down against her neck. Three fine chains of gold, so long they almost reached her collarbones, hung down from each ear. The links quivered and shimmered with every movement of her head.
Luigi showed her to the table and Carlos stood. He felt awkward shaking her hand but their relationship so far had been based on business and he would have felt even more foolish trying to kiss her cheek.
‘Rebecca,’ he said, ‘you look beautiful.’
Luigi pushed in her chair. Colouring at Carlos’s compliment, Rebecca dipped her head. Then looking up from under her lashes she smiled. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘You found the place okay?’
‘Yes. I asked at the hostel where I’m staying.’
‘Wine signorina?’ Luigi asked bottle poised by her glass.
She nodded and he poured the ruby liquid into an over-sized balloon wine glass set at her place.
‘You’re staying at a hostel. Why? I told you I have a spare room.’
‘Oh, Carlos, I’m only here for a couple of nights… I left the UK in a hurry. To be honest, I couldn’t get out of England quick enough.’
‘Why?’
She wrinkled her forehead and sighed. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to tell you…’
‘This isn’t just about quitting your job, is it?’
‘No,’ she said, and her earrings glinted in the candlelight as she shook her head. ‘And it’s not that I don’t want you to know. It’s just that I’m sick of thinking about it… of being in the middle of it. I don’t want to talk about it now. The reason I’m here is because I wanted to get away and leave all that bad stuff behind me.’ She pushed a lock of hair off her face.
‘Boyfriend trouble?’ Carlos asked.