by J M Leitch
Carlos kept rubbing my tummy and telling me to take care of our baby and then in an instant he was gone with Drew to Brno in the Czech Republic a couple of hours drive from here. When Drew got back, he said they’d met some strange man in the city centre who was to drive Carlos to a secret place in the country. None of us knows exactly where. He also gave me a phone and Carlos calls me on it at a pre-arranged time every day (the rest of the time I have to keep it turned off). I’m not allowed to use it to call him – if I ever need to speak to him in an emergency, I can only contact him through Drew or Joseph and even then, I have to use a special code word. They are really taking his safety very seriously, and I feel much better knowing that.
It’s very quiet without him, even though because of work he was never around as much as I would have liked. My main chore is fending off mobs of reporters. It’s not just me… both our families are being harassed too. Of course, we’re all refusing to comment.
For the rest of the time I feel terribly lonely. Our home’s lost its heart. It’s a silent and empty prison. In spite of that, I decide not to stay with Erika. It was a kind offer but I don’t want to intrude on her life with Drew who, even though he still hasn’t officially moved in, is there most of the time. The main reason, though, is I want to indulge myself in the last months of my pregnancy. I want to relish the experience and it wouldn’t be nearly as peaceful over there with two noisy boys crashing around. It’s not that I dislike them. Ash and Josh are great lads and I’ve become very fond of them, but if I can’t be with Carlos, then I’d rather be alone until our little girl arrives.
The thought of holding her in my arms is the only thing that makes me smile. When I think of Carlos, all I do is worry.
My big news is I’ve decided to continue researching Zul and when I’m not avoiding journalists, this is what I do. I put in so much work last year, it seems wrong to give up now. I no longer believe for a moment Zul is what he said – I’m not sure I ever really did – but I do know whoever is behind Zul won’t want to be found. So I need to be very, very careful.
But the world has a right to know who committed such an unspeakable act, and I intend doing everything in my power to expose them.
Friday 4th January 2013
I’m discovering that, like many others, after the initial horrific shock I have a strong need to try and adjust to the new world and this first week of the New Year seems as good a time to start as any. Those of us left are realising we have to face up to what happened, we have to get on with life and the sooner we do it the better. We have to – otherwise we will all go mad. And there’s so much to be done to keep the world functioning.
I speak to Greg now and then. I always liked him and I don’t want to lose his friendship. I told him how hurt Carlos was, thinking Greg had pushed him away. Greg said he hadn’t meant to upset Carlos and that he’d never thought he was behind Zul.
Greg is a good man. He has a lot to carry on his big shoulders right now.
Still no one knows who’s behind the massacre, although Greg has backed up what Carlos told me and what I’ve read, that tests conducted on a random sampling of victims taken from every country in the world confirm they were all infected with the same new virus which, when triggered, became instantaneously lethal. But a lot more research needs to be done before chemists can discover how the virus was distributed and how it was triggered in everyone simultaneously. It’s even possible this information will never be determined. Also, since chemists have yet to find the virus in a pre-trigger state, they can’t say for certain whether or not it was genetically engineered.
I learned from Greg that when he first realised there was no evolution to fourth density… that the bodies were those of the poor… his top priority was to rally functioning countries to volunteer air forces, navies, armies and equipment, everything they could spare, to assist the places worst hit in Africa, Asia, the Middle East and South America. It’s a very emotive issue, however, since there aren’t sufficient resources to send help everywhere it’s needed and the job of prioritising, Greg told me, is a heart-rending one.
To try and minimise the impact on those countries, he’s also working with the GCG and corporate bosses, drafting emergency industry support plans and devising strategies to keep the global economic and financial sectors afloat. With the decimation of the populations of so many undeveloped countries, and with developed countries losing an estimated tenth, or more, of their populations, this is a huge chore, but he says the support is mind-blowing and he’s amazed by the progress they’ve already made.
I feel sorry for the people working in the forces – those sent into the thick of it to clean up both urban and rural areas. What a gruelling task – gathering up decomposing bodies to incinerate. And what about the survivors in those places. The risk of disease and harmful effects of polluted drinking water is huge. It looks like the worst hit cities may have to be evacuated.
And once again, the brutal reality of what’s happened explodes in my mind. All the poorest people round the globe have been eradicated. And the number they made up is shocking. Estimates say six billion… that’s eighty-five per cent of our global population. I hang my head in shame because I never truly grasped how disgustingly privileged I’ve been all my life, until now.
But here’s the sickening, disgusting thing. In spite of such overwhelming loss of life, because there was none in the middle and higher echelons of industry, the impact on the machinery of business and finance will be negligible. Of course, it’ll cost money and manpower to clean up the remains and we’ll have to work out ways to fill the gap left by losing all the low-income workers, but apart from that, those people’s deaths will have very little affect on the way the world works.
The message is clear. The possession of greatest worth on this planet is wealth.
And all of a sudden, my urge to assimilate into a world where the entire strata of underprivileged people has been erased, is dashed when I realise that we survivors are in danger of losing our humanity. Who will we care for now.
Sunday 27th January 2013
After four weeks, I visited Carlos for the first time yesterday. It was so good to see him. He looks well and at first seemed pretty upbeat.
It was all very spy-movieish. I was driven to the car park at Vañkovka Gallery in Brno where I was transferred to another car, blindfolded and driven around for two hours. After we stopped, the driver led me up to a house and knocked on the door. I was taken inside and when I took off the blindfold… there was Carlos.
We cried on seeing each other. He told me how well I looked and that he couldn’t believe how big my tummy had grown. I gave him the books and magazines, and treats and the Brazilian coffee I’d brought him – I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to get that in Vienna – and we curled up on the couch together to talk.
To see his face, to hear his voice, to feel the sensation of his lips on my lips and his heart beating against my breast, all these things made me the happiest I’ve been since the night of our last dinner at La Lucciola. In earlier times they were commonplace pleasures, but today they are beautiful blessings to be cherished.
Carlos doesn’t live at this house, he told me. They’d brought him there earlier from another secret place where, he said, he was well looked after and the food was good, if simple. He has access to a small library and a computer, but no Internet. He looked well and rested and has lost the awful haggard appearance he had before. I think he’s put back on a bit of the weight he lost before he left Vienna.
He asked about his family, with whom I keep in touch, and I explained how the media attention had forced them into hiding at a remote farm near Estepa in Andalucia. I also told him about my mum and dad and my sister and her husband, who are also hiding from the press. He asked about Greg. About Drew and Erika. About Corrinne. And about Joseph. I told him that although Drew talks to Joseph, I haven’t spoken to him since our dinner together and we laughed about him telling jokes that night, which w
as so out of character.
With no Internet access, Carlos gets his news from radio and the TV. He’s heard about the vocal group that doesn’t believe humans engineered the virus. This group is split into two factions, one that disregards the coincidence of the virus striking on the precise date Zul predicted, putting it down to a catastrophic natural phenomenon and another that claims Zul is real and believes aliens are using us and our planet in an experiment.
We talked about these theories, clinging on to them like life rafts, because if one of them were true it would prove Carlos’s innocence. But eventually he confessed that since he’s been in hiding he, too, has reached the conclusion that Zul is human, and the underlying depression that had lifted when we first saw each other surged back.
Then he told me he has never felt as down as he does now. Not even when he was in hospital last year.
We talked about the Emergency Session of the UN General Assembly held in the New Year, some of which was televised, and we cried together remembering what a wretched and somber occasion it was. How Greg held himself together through the meeting, we have no idea.
The Assembly agreed that the United Nations Security Council, the UN organ charged with maintenance of international peace and security, should have the responsibility of looking into events leading up to the global holocaust. The Security Council then called its own Emergency Session to focus on developing guidelines as to how the inquiry should be structured.
Members unanimously agreed to establish an International Criminal Tribunal to investigate the global massacre. The Tribunal immediately petitioned copies of the reports NASA and the National Intelligence agency drew up last year, as well as copies of the messages and holovideos plus transcripts of all relevant meetings conducted at the UN and the White House, and we can only hope it will somehow expose the truth.
But it doesn’t help that every couple of weeks or so Carlos’s name is plastered all over the press. Like it was last Tuesday. “GONE TO GROUND” the headlines announced in huge letters.
He’s worried about my safety too, so I was happy to tell him what a gem Greg’s been. That he got me an unlisted number and has provided me with protection round the clock.
I’m not sure whether to tell him about my own plan to continue investigating Zul, because I’m scared he’ll tell me to stop… so I decide not to say a word. Not yet.
And then he told me the best news I’d heard in an age, that we could spend the night there together. I hadn’t dared contemplate that possibility and it made me cry again.
Monday 11th March 2013
I feel so low.
Vienna, traditionally a city with so much to offer year-round, has lost its vibrancy. As a mark of respect for the billions of dead, the colourful Christmas decorations and sparkling lights were taken down last year and all the festive markets and balls were cancelled. None of the skating rinks have a single blade mark on them. Like everywhere else, it’s still a city in mourning.
I try to rev myself up, to get enthused about cooking a meal for Erika, Drew and the boys for instance, or going shopping for the baby, or doing more research to find who’s behind Zul, but it’s so hard to get motivated. Most days when I finish breakfast I sink onto the couch and still find myself sitting there when it’s dark and time to go to bed, my former resolve forgotten.
I worry about Carlos. Constantly. Two and a half months and he’s still in hiding because he’s still in danger. By now only a few New Age fanatics continue to believe Zul is real and the others, the vast majority, are baying for someone’s blood… most of them for Carlos’s.
The Tribunal’s called in several people to give evidence, including Carlos, who was granted in-camera status as a result of the death threats. He said they quizzed him for hours about the overpopulation of the planet, a view he’d expressed publicly on many occasions, but it hasn’t yet made any indictment and who knows what conclusion it will come to.
And all the time my head’s buzzing, trying to get to the bottom of it all. But I’m not getting anywhere. So earlier I decided to set out my thoughts in writing to see if that would help.
The key, I was positive, has something to do with space, and I began thinking back to last year when I was researching my idea that the US military was behind Anderson’s death, and I dug out the notes I made about space ownership.
Full-spectrum dominance is a strategic intent that has already been adopted by the US military and unless challenged, space ownership will naturally follow. Space ownership is when a military structure has control of all space, maritime, air and land based assets across the whole spectrum of battlespace, including control of information, which is where DARPA’s brain-to-brain communication project “Silent Talk” fits in.
Of course, space ownership is an extremely attractive status to achieve, since the nation that “owns” space will control the world and considering the US military’s disclosure that it’s pursuing a doctrine of full-spectrum dominance, it’s highly likely there’s a faction pushing in the space ownership direction. And I wondered if this group could be behind Zul. It certainly would not have welcomed the amount of public attention Anderson would have stirred up by reallocating NASA’s budget to DARPA.
And then another thought struck me. Because of his passion in pushing OOSA’s mission to promote international cooperation in the peaceful use of outer space, Carlos wasn’t just a threat to Anderson, he was a threat to the US military too. Perhaps in addition to silencing Anderson, getting Carlos out of OOSA was another objective of the plan.
But the plan was also to wipe out eighty-five per cent of the entire world’s population. All the poor. Something extraordinarily crucial must have been behind that decision. So I thought about how the group would have benefitted by this disgusting extermination.
For the first time since the tragedy, I tried to look past the current mayhem and global suffering towards the future, and realised that all the previously powerful countries like the USA and others in Western Europe that had the least poverty would recover far more quickly than those with high poverty levels. I also realised that many of the worst affected countries were ones that the USA and the West had felt threatened by, or had been at war with. That was enlightening, as was the fact that Islam had been dealt a devastating blow, since the global Muslim population had been reduced by half. But I couldn’t believe these reasons alone pushed the group into murdering over six billion people… which included 120 million of their own. There had to be more to it, surely.
My head felt as if it was about to burst, so I decided to take a break. I made myself a cup of herbal tea and started thinking about the previous day when I was at Erika and Drew’s.
Their new house is amazing. It’s massive. Erika seems almost embarrassed by it, but Drew is in his element.
Over coffees after lunch we debated whether we will ever know the true story behind the global massacre. Drew said I’m mad trying to get to the bottom of it. He just kept repeating it’s useless, not to mention dangerous.
He’s so sure the truth will never come out, he doesn’t even want to discuss it. He said it’s just like the NASA secret. Everyone there knows there was a big discovery a few years ago, but still nobody knows what it is. Some people think it’s to do with UFOs, some swear it’s a new advanced life form, others claim it’s a new miracle source of fuel, and yet others believe it relates to climate change. People have spent hours gossiping about it, he said, but why bother when even to this day no one’s discovered the truth.
I said I wondered if the NASA secret could be connected to Zul but Drew just laughed, saying it was a random, worthless hypothesis since there was nothing to base the connection on. I didn’t pursue it, but quite frankly I don’t see it’s illogical. Not being aware of a connection between two pieces of information doesn’t prove there isn’t one.
Then eureka. As I sat on the couch with my mug of tea resting on my belly, I was overwhelmed by the feeling that this was the link I’d been searching fo
r. And somehow I knew it all tied in with what I’d recently read about the Space Elevator.
Ever since I wrote the piece for National Geographic, I’ve had an attachment to that project and now and then I log in to LiftPort’s website to see what’s new. Incredibly, in the aftermath of the global massacre, I’ve seen a huge amount of money and expertise pour in, and the completion date’s been advanced by a whole year. Now that seems very odd to me, considering the current state of the world.
And there was the space connection again.
But how did it fit in.
Then the words that chilled me when Carlos uttered them came rushing back into my head. “The stations could be used, should we ever need to evacuate the planet…” and all of a sudden the pieces of the jigsaw fell into place.
The NASA secret is connected. It’s about climate change. A radical change that mankind will not survive. It was kept secret because of the panic it would cause. But generals in the US military knew and a secret faction came up with Zul and the theory of evolution through densities.
The members of the group didn’t just want to silence Anderson and edge Carlos out of OOSA. Oh no. They wanted Carlos to perform a way more critical role. They hoodwinked him into believing the evolution story and flattered him into thinking he’d be a leader in the new world because they wanted him, with his passion, to prepare the planet for a cruel culling that would allow the US, regarded in recent years as leader of the western world, to emerge, owning space, where it could build space stations to where, when the time came, people would be evacuated.
Then I shook my head. No… it’s outrageous. This plan involved killing, according to the latest figures announced, over fifteen per cent of their own population. They would never do that. Or would they. The stakes were extreme – guaranteed survival.