The Zul Enigma (4 page)

The Galactic Federation
was claiming to have found that elusive piece of the puzzle for which Earth’s
scientists were still searching. It was claiming to have completed the Unified
Field Theory and to possess the Holy Grail of theoretical physics for which
Albert Einstein had spent the last thirty years of his life pursuing.

But that would mean
rethinking mankind’s current perception of space, time and matter, and with
what repercussions? Carlos thought.

‘Yes, Carlos. You are
correct,’ the voice continued, as if answering his very thoughts. ‘One of the
outcomes of this discovery is the understanding of how to manipulate matter.’

Then the face vanished.

Carlos sat staring at
the screen long after it had gone blank, his thoughts churning. The Galactic
Federation? At first it had seemed ridiculous… but the voice and the face and
the words themselves… the idea was strangely compelling.

He shook his head to
clear it. Of course it was a man. Just a man. Some crazy man.

He forwarded the e-mail
with a second Unusual Network Incident Report.

‘Hey, Drew,’ he shouted
as he walked back into the living room. ‘you ready?
A comer
,’ and he
raised his bunched fingers to his mouth, ‘let’s go eat.’

CHAPTER 3

They shuffled through a revolving door into the lobby of the restaurant, nearly
bouncing off the heat that hung like a curtain inside. It was suffocating, like
walking into a sauna. On his way there, Carlos had been racking his brains to
remember the last time he’d met up with anyone outside of work. He couldn’t.
Over recent years he’d pushed everyone away. But this was different. Drew was
different. It was good to see his old friend again.

After checking in their coats they ducked through a little archway. Although
late, it was still busy. Conversation blended with laughter nearly drowned out
the recording of Luciano Pavarotti playing in the background. A spectrum of
criss-cross lights reflected off the large silver trays carried high over the
heads of waiters who slalomed between tables. Drew followed Carlos towards the
bar in the corner.

‘Drink?’ Carlos asked.

‘Sure. A Margarita,’
Drew replied, catching the barmaid’s eye. ‘You?’

Carlos nodded.

‘Hello!’ Drew beamed as
the girl walked over. ‘And what’s your name, darling?’

She smiled. ‘Anaïs.’

‘Well, Anaïs, give us
two Margarita’s on the rocks. And don’t be shy with the tequila,’ he said
winking.

‘When will you grow up?’
Carlos muttered.

‘Never! Peter Pan,
that’s me.’

‘
Signore
Maiz,
forgive me.’ A short round man with a flushed chubby face rushed up to Carlos
and made a formal bow. ‘We are so busy tonight, I didn’t see you come in.’

‘Luigi.’

With a plump hand Luigi
adjusted the stringy, black strands plastered unevenly across his scalp. Once
reassured all was in order, he continued, ‘Let me show you to your table.’

‘I need a table for two.
I called earlier but the line was busy.’

Luigi’s little black
eyes flashed as he looked from Carlos to Drew and back again. He clapped his hands
and rocked onto his tiptoes, making his glossy patent leather shoes creak. ‘
Oh
Mio Dio! Signore
. You have a company! Of course I can make you a bigger
table,’ and Carlos tried to ignore Drew’s arched brow and sideways glance.

Anaïs delivered their
drinks. ‘Gentlemen, on the rocks.’

Carlos took a sip. He
shuddered. ‘Whoa, that’s strong!’

‘She’s got a good
pouring arm,’ Drew said, grinning as Anaïs walked away to serve another
customer at the other end of the bar, ‘and just look at that arse!’ he muttered
as he licked the salt off his lips. ‘So… it doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to
deduce that you eat here often and on your tod. No wonder you’ve turned into
such a fat bastard. What’s the story? Lost all your friends?’

Carlos jutted out his
chin. He didn’t want to admit how dull his life had become. ‘It’s no mystery. I
don’t do cooking, the food here’s good and it’s near where I live.’

Anaïs was mixing another cocktail when Luigi returned to take their order. He
launched into a description of the evening’s specials, ‘and the lamb neck
fillet? She is
sooo
delicious,’ he said kissing the fingertips of his
pudgy hand. ‘Mmm,’ he exhaled in a husky voice, ‘orgasmic,’ and opened his
fist, exploding the sentiment into the universe.

‘That should hit the
spot,’ Drew said.

‘
Sí
,’ said Carlos
closing his menu, ‘make it two.’

As Anaïs delivered a
fresh round, Carlos heard his name being called. He looked over his shoulder
and behind him was a man in his early forties, a colleague from work.

‘Hey, Hans!’ Carlos slid
off the bar stool and they shook hands. ‘Drew, this is Hans Baade, our new
Network Security Manager. Hans, this is an old friend, Drew Roberts. Join us
for a drink?’

‘No thanks, Carlos. I’ve
got a coffee over there.’ Hans nodded to the far side of the restaurant. He
smiled at Drew and edged his spectacles up onto the bridge of his nose. ‘This
is a popular place. Have you eaten here before?’

‘No. I’m not from around
here. I live in the States.’

‘You don’t sound
American.’

‘I’m not. I’m a Brit.’

Carlos nodded in Drew’s
direction. ‘We met at uni in California and went on to NASA together. Drew
still works there.’

‘I’m with the Goddard
Space Flight Centre. Radiation Belt Storm Probes mission. I’m responsible for
the implementation and instrument management.’

‘Sounds interesting.
What’s the mission about?’ Hans asked.

‘In layman’s terms? We
want to discover more about how the sun is fucking with our space exploration
missions, satellite operations and our power distribution and communications on
Earth.’

‘Oh!’ Hans said, taken
aback.

‘The launch date’s
coming up soon,
sí
?’ Carlos asked.

‘May 14. Kennedy Space
Centre. You wouldn’t believe the pressure. Two months to go and counting,’ but
Drew didn’t look the least bit stressed.

‘How can they spare you?
Are you here on business?’ Hans asked.

‘No. My aunt died. In
England.’

‘Aunt Hetty?’ Carlos
said looking up, ‘hey, I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Yeah. My last remaining
relative. And guess what? I’m her only beneficiary. I had no idea how rich the
old biddy was.’

‘You’re kidding. She
never spent a peseta.’

‘That’s how she got so
rich,’ Drew grinned. ‘Anyhow Hans, to answer your question, I’ve got a terrific
team behind me,’ and he turned to Carlos. ‘Remember Helen? Helen Hunt?’

‘I think so…’

‘I left her in charge.
She’s doing a great job.’

Hans touched Carlos’s
elbow, ‘Drew, excuse us? I need a quick word. Business,’ and he guided Carlos
out of earshot.

‘The lads called me
about the Incident Reports,’ he said bending his head down so he could speak
directly into Carlos’s ear.

‘Any news?’

‘We’ve run a routine
check on the e-mail address but haven’t been able to identify where the
messages originated. I’ll get back to you first thing tomorrow.’

‘Will you have traced
them by then?’

‘I hope so.’

‘Okay. Thanks for the
up-date.’

Carlos sat back down at
the bar.

‘He’s a bit of a nerd.
What was all the whispering about?’ Drew asked.

‘It’s confidential… but
it looks like our security’s been compromised.’

‘That doesn’t sound
good.’

‘Tell me about it! Just
after you called, I got this crazy e-mail…’

‘
Prego, signore
,
your table is awaiting.’

‘Thanks Luigi.’ Carlos
turned to Drew. ‘
Vamos
.’

A waiter delivered another round of Margaritas and a split second later Luigi
returned with two empty wine goblets and a bottle of Chianti in a wicker
basket, as Carlos and Drew discussed the day’s main news: devastation caused by
the latest volcanic eruption that had disrupted flights all over Asia and, once
again, escalating conflict over the control of oil and gas reserves.

‘Too many people on the
planet, that’s the real problem,’ Carlos said. ‘How can it keep supporting an
exponentially growing population?’

‘Fertility rates are
dropping and the West is doing its bit, but the rest are all breeding like
rabbits.’

‘We’ll end up paying the
price.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Right now we’re at the
edge of another world war.’

‘Carlos, they won’t let
it go that far…’

‘Who won’t? Russia? The
US? Europe? The Middle East? The world’s still not recovered from the latest
economic crisis. A war would be convenient. People make a lot of money out of
war. But what if it goes nuclear? We could end up destroying ourselves and
everything on the planet.’

‘Are you inferring some
twisted version of natural selection’s going on?’

‘Hey, we humans haven’t
done a good job looking after each other or our planet so far, have we?’

‘But to wipe ourselves
out…’

‘Ninety-nine point nine
per cent of all species that ever existed have gone extinct. That’s a fact. And
for complex organisms, according to Ernst Mayr, the average life expectancy of
a species is one hundred thousand years. That’s how long we so-called civilised
humans have been on the planet. So tell me, why should we go on when
ninety-nine point nine per cent of species die out? I don’t see it’s a question
of “if” but “when”.’

‘And if we don’t? Kill
ourselves in a nuclear war, I mean.’

‘A super volcanic
eruption would work. You know as well as I do, seismic activity’s been
escalating at a fantastic rate.’

‘What’s up with you
mate?’

Carlos leaned forward,
‘Don’t you feel it? Thing’s are unbalanced. I just know something big and bad
is going to happen. Soon.’

‘Come on, you never used
to be all gloom and doom. Here we are having dinner for the first time in
bloody years and I feel like hacking at my wrists with the steak knife.’

Carlos examined his
glass. He wiped a little section of salt off the rim with his forefinger and
licked it. It wasn’t just a case of what he believed was wrong with the world,
although that was bad enough. It was the e-mails. They’d added to his unease
and he couldn’t stop thinking about them. He’d have liked to talk to Drew
– he could do with his friend’s cut the crap style feedback – but
there was the confidentiality issue.

Of course the first
e-mail had alarmed Carlos, although it had been more of an irritation than a
worry. Had someone else, Drew for instance, told him they’d received such a
thing, he would have found it amusing. Then, after getting the second e-mail and
watching the video, the significance was starting to register, and Carlos knew
it wasn’t funny at all. UN security had been compromised and there was no clue
who was responsible or what their motive was. But Carlos’s discomfort went way
deeper than that. The message echoed his own fears for the future of the Earth.
It resonated on way too personal a note.

‘You’re right,’ he said
leaning back in his chair, ‘this isn’t the time.’

‘So, hallowed Director
of OOSA, what’s this shit-hot job of yours really like?’

‘Hey,’ Carlos raised his
brows, ‘it sounds good. But now I got the Office organised, I’m just an
over-paid clerk. My admin assistant could do the job – at least that’s
what she thinks – and she’s probably right. I love our mission to bring
space within the grasp of every country on the planet, but I have to be so
careful. It’s like treading on eggs. The members are clacking women. Give more
to one than another and the complaints start flying around my head like
bullets. Those guys are uncontrollable! Come on…’ Carlos looked up waving his
arms in the air, ‘… does it sound like me?’ He nearly knocked his Margarita
flying but managed to grasp the stem. Draining the glass he banged it back down
on the table, hard.

‘Hold on a minute there
Charlie boy, there was a time you’d have killed for that job.’

‘
Sí
, I know. And
it was fantastic to start with. But now? I don’t enjoy it any more. I miss the
old NASA days when we used to
make
things happen
and
had fun
doing it. We were at the cutting edge. You still are. For me it’s the same
thing every day. I’m surrounded by bureaucrats. I
am
a bureaucrat. I
read report after report. I head endless meetings. The members are always
bickering. And I’m sick of the travelling.’

‘I can’t believe what
I’m hearing.’

‘
Amigo
, since
Elena died, my job’s all I have. All I do is work. But the more I work, the
less I get out of it.’ He tapped his forehead. ‘I swear, it’s doing my head
in.’