The Zul Enigma (11 page)

‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,

‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,

‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.’

It was a choir, but not
any choir. It was the London Bach Choir as on the Stones’ late ‘60s album “Let
it Bleed”. They were singing “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”.

Then the box and the
sound faded, like the baby, into nothing, leaving Carlos singing the lyrics in
his head.

He
dashed to his terminal and checked where the hologram had originated from, but
the only record he could see was of Rebecca’s virtual meeting.

Was he going mad? Had he
imagined it? The baby? That song? He struggled to make sense out of what had
just happened.

He’d just witnessed the
miracle of creation – in reverse.

But what was its
significance… and what was the point of the song?

Then, slowly, the pieces
began to fall into place.

Carlos had a second
secret that he’d never told a soul. On the day he’d gone to identify Elena’s
body, to his great pain, he’d learned from the autopsy report that she was six
weeks pregnant.

Suddenly he understood.
The virtual infant he’d just held in his arms was his baby – his baby
with Elena.

“You Can’t Always Get
What You Want.”

He’d told Elena he
didn’t want a baby. He got what he said he wanted. But as he now knew, it was a
lie; he
had
wanted a baby. But then Elena had died and he certainly
hadn’t wanted that.

The baby? The song? Zul
had sent them. It was the sign. It was a powerful personal message and it was
all the proof Carlos needed.

He sat still trying to
digest the enormity of what had just come to pass. Then he stood up and strode
out of the office with rediscovered determination. A rush of excitement grabbed
him.

It was time to get off
the fence.

***

Carlos burst into Corrinne’s office. It was
his turn to make her jump. He had a different look about him. He was composed
and confident. His energy was palpable. He looked like a man who had
experienced a revelation, someone who was certain of his course and would not
be compromised. For the first time since Elena’s death he looked in control.

‘Carlos! What is it? Has
Hans come up with an explanation?’

‘No, Corrinne. I have.
Zul
is
what he claims and I need to talk to Greg, the Secretary-General
immediately. Get hold of him now on a secure line.’

‘What do you mean
“secure”? There doesn’t seem to be any such thing anymore.’

‘Corrinne, I don’t care
if Zul hears my conversation I just don’t want any humans listening in. And
don’t tell
anyone
, do you hear? We
must
keep this confidential.
And get the ITU-T report from Hans. I want six hard copies, as well an
electronic one.’

Corrinne stood in front
of Carlos with her mouth wide open. It was the first time ever he’d seen her
dumbstruck. ‘But… but this is madness…’ she stammered.

‘Corrinne, I know what
I’m doing.’

‘But…’

‘Now, please, get Greg
on the line at once.’

CHAPTER 8

It was already dark when the yellow cab dropped Carlos outside an elegant
eighteenth-century house in Sutton Place, Manhattan. The path cleared through
the snow was beginning to ice over, so he took care picking his way, especially
going up the steps to the huge front door. He rang the bell and seconds later a
doorman greeted him by name. He ushered Carlos into the spacious hall, took his
coat and led him towards a set of intricately carved wooden doors. The doorman
knocked and opened one of them, gesturing for Carlos to enter.

He walked into the snug,
dim room. There was a big fire blazing at the far end – a real fire.
Carlos could hear it crackling and tall orange flames danced in the fireplace
leaving glowing embers clinging to the chimney like fading fireflies. A smell
of smoke spiked with pine permeated the room. The fire reminded Carlos of his
childhood in Madrid.

A
large figure loomed out of the shadows of a wing-backed chair and lumbered
towards him. The man had a florid complexion that was more flushed than usual
due to the heat of the fire. A bulbous veined nose dominated the face and plump
cheeks, surrendering their fight against gravity, wobbled as he walked. It was
Greg Howard, Secretary-General of the United Nations.

Greg’s large face broke
into a smile as he approached. ‘Carlos. It’s good to see you.’ The voice was
deep and vibrant and had the scarcely perceptible hint of an Australian accent.

Carlos shook his hand,
which was surprisingly small for such a large man. It felt soft and warm.

‘How was your flight?’

‘Comfortable, thank
you.’

‘Come on in. I’m sure
you’d like a drink? What’s your poison?’

‘Something refreshing.
Gin and tonic?’

‘Of course. Ice and
lemon?’

‘Please.’

Greg fixed two drinks,
handed one to Carlos and then settled back in his chair beside the fireplace,
resting his own against his chest.

‘Sit, Carlos. What’s
this all about.’

‘Since I left Vienna
I’ve been trying to find the best way to explain about it to you.’ Carlos
shrugged his shoulders.

Greg smiled. ‘Just spit
it out Carlos. You don’t have to stand on ceremony here.’

‘
Sí
, I know. But
I’m about to suggest something that is so… crazy… I have to set the scene. I
want to make a picture in your mind.’

Greg sipped his drink,
causing the ice to chink against the glass. ‘Okay. Fire away.’

Carlos’s eyes shone,
reflecting the flames licking up the chimney. He jumped up and walked towards
Greg’s chair.

‘I want you to imagine
you’re looking at a man lying in a park in Chicago. You’re looking directly
down on him from above. It’s like you’re in an elevator with a glass floor
hanging right over him, but the lift shaft is invisible. The floor is one metre
above the man. Now imagine you press a button for the first floor and the
elevator goes up ten metres and stops, and every time you press a button for
the next floor your distance from the man increases by one power of ten. At one
thousand kilometres above the man, you can see the whole of Lake Michigan and
everything round it. Of course you can’t see the man any more nor much that’s
man-made, only large natural configurations.

‘You press another
button and another. You rise higher and higher. You can now see the whole
Earth. At one hundred thousand kilometres you can see the Earth
and
the
moon as they move together in their orbits round the sun. Two floors further up
and you can see the orbits of Venus and Mars and then Mercury, Jupiter and
Saturn. The scale is now one hundred million kilometres and includes all the
bodies in the solar system that mankind has ever visited. Two more floors up
and you can see the orbits of Neptune, Uranus and Pluto… you can see our entire
solar system. As you go further and further away, the solar system shrinks and
our sun gets dimmer.

‘At one hundred thousand
light years you can see our whole galaxy. But soon this has shrunk to a little
dot of light. At ten million light years you’ll see other dots of light
surrounding it. They’re neighbouring galaxies. At the next stop you’ll see
they’re just part of a much larger gathering of several
hundred
galaxies
called the Virgo Cluster. At a billion light years all you can see is a uniform
distribution of dots. Each dot is a separate galaxy.’

Carlos paced up and down
the room, hands flying to illustrate the grandeur of the image he was trying to
paint in Greg’s mind’s eye.

‘By the top floor the
number of dots has grown to more than one hundred billion and you can’t go any
further because your view has already taken in the whole of the observable
universe. The universe could be larger than this but we can’t see any further
from our planet because, however powerful our telescopes are, we can’t look to
a distance greater than the distance light has travelled since it came into
existence fifteen billion years ago.’

Carlos hesitated and
looked at Greg.

‘Okay. I’m following.
But where’s all this leading?’

‘I want you to think
about that number – really think about what it means.
One hundred
billion
. ONE HUNDRED BILLION galaxies in the KNOWN universe. It’s such a
huge number we can’t visualise it. Now, for a moment, imagine how many
more
galaxies exist that we
don’t
know about?’

‘Where are you heading
with this, Carlos?’

Carlos held up his hands
to silence Greg. ‘With this picture in your mind, Greg, can you honestly say
you believe our planet Earth, our tiny insignificant planet Earth, is the
only
place in the
universe
that can support intelligent life?’

Greg was silent. The
question was unexpected. He cleared his throat. ‘I suppose logic suggests that
the odds are somewhat against it.’

Carlos smiled and
pointed at him.

‘Hold that thought. On
Monday I received the first of what we thought were hoax messages from someone
I named Zul, who claims to represent the Galactic Federation.’

‘The what?’

‘The Galactic
Federation.’

‘And what the hell’s
that when it’s at home?’

‘Exactly what it says.
You see Zul told me he’s not from this planet.’

Mid sip, Greg nearly
choked on his drink. ‘An extraterrestrial?’

‘That’s what he claims.’

An incredulous
expression intensified across Greg’s ruddy features. Then he smiled. He shook
his head making his jowls swing, and his shoulders heaved up and down. ‘Good
gracious! This is a joke, Carlos. You’re having me on.’

‘No Greg, I’m very
serious. We don’t have absolute proof, but I do believe it’s a claim we should
consider.’

‘Have you taken leave of
your senses? This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. It must be a
hacker – a hoax.’

‘That’s what we thought
at first. But here’s the problem. Hans Baade, our Network Security Manager,
can’t trace the origin of the messages. He passed it on to ITU-T and they came
up with nothing too. The e-mails have appeared out of nowhere. It’s possible,
just possible, this contact is real.’

Greg looked away and
stared into the flames.

The sound of the door
opening made Carlos spin around. It was Tracy, Greg’s wife. She approached
Carlos with a big smile and put her hands on his shoulders, tipping up her face
for him to kiss. Although younger, she reminded Carlos of his mother and he had
to suppress the urge to give her an especially affectionate hug.

‘Carlos. It’s lovely to
see you. You
do
look well. How are you?’

‘I’m great, Tracy. And
it’s good to see you too. You look fantastic.’

‘Terri’s in town for a
few days. It’s so nice to have her here. You know how much I miss my girls now
they’ve left the nest for good.’ Tracy turned to her husband. ‘Darl, sorry to
interrupt, but dinner’s ready.’

Greg beamed up at his
wife. ‘You go on. We’ll catch up with you in a moment.’

‘Well don’t be too long.
We’re all starving.’

Greg looked at Carlos as
his wife left the room and shook his head again.

‘I’m finding it hard to
take in what you just told me.’

‘There’s more I need to
explain about. Then you’ll see how it could be possible.’

Greg coughed into his
fist. ‘I don’t know Carlos, I wouldn’t be too sure about that.’ He drained his
glass. ‘Come on, mustn’t keep the others waiting.’ Greg heaved himself out of
the chair. ‘It’s a stroke of luck you caught me on one of my few Saturday
nights off duty.’

‘I feel bad taking up
your family time. You don’t get much of it.’

‘Don’t fret about that,
Carlos. Mind you, now you’ve told me why you’re here I’m beginning to have
second thoughts. Obviously,’ he went on, padding towards the door, ‘we’ll not
say anything about this in front of the others. We can talk more after dinner.’

***

Greg sat in a sturdy leather chair behind a massive desk, the focal point of
his study. The walls on either side and behind him were lined with shelves that
held hundreds of books and periodicals. Dinner had finished an hour before and
after coffee and some polite small talk, Greg and Carlos had excused themselves
and withdrawn.

‘Let’s have a look at
these messages then,’ Greg said. ‘Pull up a chair.’ He cleared a space in front
of Carlos and pushed the keyboard, mouse and monitor towards him. Carlos used
his RFId tag to log in into the UN system, opened the original message from Zul
and played the audio attachment. He then played the two short videos.

‘He’s got a commanding
voice and manner, but that doesn’t make him an extraterrestrial. What did Hans
say exactly?’

Carlos clicked the
mouse. Instantly Hans’s report appeared on the screen. Carlos adjusted the
monitor for Greg. ‘Here, see for yourself.’