by J M Leitch
‘Good for their age. Mama still runs around waiting on Papa all the time – nothing’s changed there. My sister Maria got married four years ago. She’s got two children, both boys. Juan and Pedro.’
‘Little Maria married! I don’t believe it. Do you get to see them often?’
‘At least once a year. I’m always in Madrid for Christmas when we have our big family reunion. Maria’s boys are beautiful. We talk all the time, but it’s not the same as being there.’
A waiter cleared the plates and Carlos kept the bottles of wine coming. When the lamb fillets arrived they were cooked to perfection. Their knives slid through the meat without resistance and fragrant juices oozed from the pink-tinged flesh.
‘Luigi wasn’t exaggerating,’ Drew said through a mouthful of meat, ‘this is as good as sex!’
The more wine that went down, the more animated they became, and Drew got Carlos laughing about some of the pranks they’d pulled at USC. It was his first real laugh in years and it hit him that it was only physically being with Drew that made him realise just how much he missed him.
They ordered flaming Zambucas, like they used to at NASA, and put coasters on top of the glasses to put out the flames.
Drew toasted Carlos. ‘To the good old days!’ Carlos took a sip but pulled the glass away, putting a hand to his mouth. ‘Jesus! That burnt,’ he said and Drew laughed.
‘What about you, Charlie boy? How are you? Really?’
That question brought Carlos back down to Earth. The truth was, since Elena’s murder he’d been a mess. Her death was a bomb exploding, shattering his life, and he couldn’t imagine ever piecing the scraps back together. He’d hated being the focus of such an outpouring of pity and had distanced himself from his friends until they stopped calling. He’d tried to make sense of what his life had become, but he could find none. There was no sense in remorse.
‘I’m surviving. It was… it was horrible at first. Going back to the apartment on my own? It was like going into a time warp. I kept everything the way she’d left it. You remember how untidy she was.’
Drew nodded, ‘The big bone of contention.’
‘Her stuff was everywhere. It covered every surface… there was no room for a pin. It drove me crazy, you know that. But after she died? It was different. Seeing it all? It helped. It was like she’d just gone out – to the gym, or for coffee with a friend – and she’d soon be home again.
‘Then one afternoon after a horrible day at work I knew I could never put my old life back together so there was no point in keeping the pieces.’ He shrugged, ‘and that was it. I bought a load of refuse sacks and a bottle of Black Label and dumped all her things down the rubbish chute. Then I kept drinking till I passed out.’
That evening had marked a watershed. It was the point when Carlos replaced his lost passion with a barrier of indifference fuelled by booze.
‘Have you met anyone else?’
‘No.’
‘Fuck off!’
‘It’s true.’ Carlos took a sip of the Zambucca, the intensity of the aniseed flavour catching him off guard. ‘I’m not interested.’
‘You’ve got to be joking. It’s been over three years.’
Carlos gestured to the waiter to bring another round.
‘What’s going on, Carlos? Come on mate. You can tell me.’
‘I just miss her so much. I’ll never forgive myself for that stupid argument. When she said about having a baby that morning, it scared me, it was a surprise, too much pressure. When I said no, I didn’t even mean it. I just wanted time. Time to take it in. Hey, it’s a big step, sí? But she got so mad. Then the next thing I knew she’d stormed off and… and… the worst of it was… I didn’t even know…’ his voice cracked as he struggled on, ‘she didn’t even tell me…’ but he couldn’t finish the sentence.
Drew stared at Carlos, his face a mask. This outpouring of emotion made him uncomfortable and he regretted pressing Carlos to talk.
‘I think about her all the time,’ Carlos went on, ‘what she went through. It tears me to bits. If only I’d stopped her she’d still be alive. It’s all my fault. I killed her.’
Carlos had kept his feelings bottled up for so long, it was a relief to talk about them at last. He was with his closest friend and the alcohol had loosened his tongue and his inhibitions. It was time to unload.
‘Every waking moment without her’s unbearable. I can’t sleep if I’m not drunk or drugged up with pills. I have these horrible nightmares. All I think about is her. Everyone said time would make it easier – well that’s a lie. Time makes it worse. It’s horrible.’ Carlos clutched at his head and shook it from side to side. ‘I can’t go on like this. I miss her so…’ his face crumpled and the tears came. He covered his eyes and doubled over as his whole body spasmed with sobs.
Drew stared at him, detached, as if he was watching a film. He’d had no idea what a bad state Carlos was in. He should have picked up on it earlier – the signs were there – but he hadn’t put them together. He closed his eyes wanting to blot out the sight of Carlos crying. When he opened them again his expression had softened, but he still sat motionless unable to do anything except watch, in silence, as his friend fell apart.
Carlos snatched up his napkin to blow his nose. He was pale and looked exhausted.
Drew put both hands on the table and, scraping back his chair, stood up. He gestured to the waiter that he wanted to pay then clapped his hand on Carlos’s shoulder, and gave him a shake.
‘Come on mate, time to go. You haven’t changed a bit, have you? You’d pull any stunt to get out of paying the bill.’
***
After apologising for breaking down and insisting on one more bottle of wine, Carlos let Drew help him home. He was very wobbly and it took a few attempts before he could keep still long enough to complete the retina scan.
Rather than brave the blizzard again, Drew stayed the night. Carlos pushed him towards the guest room and staggered into his own bedroom to collapse fully clothed on the bed. He was already snoring when the mattress dipped and woke him. He opened his eyes and saw Drew sitting there. ‘Here mate, take these.’ Carlos sat up, put the Panadols in his mouth and drained the glass Drew held out for him.
About to collapse again, he remembered the messages. ‘Th’e-mails,’ he slurred, ‘from th’Galactic Federation.’
Drew closed the blinds. ‘Carlos, you’re gibbering. Go back to sleep.’ He shook his head as he left the room and eased the door closed behind him.
CHAPTER 4
Seven thirty! How could that be? He must have slept through the alarm. Now he was running over an hour late. Carlos sprang up, but whoosh! A powerful wave of nausea hit him, leaving his stomach queasy and his head spinning. He collapsed back on the bed.
He wasn’t hot but he was sweating. It was a tacky cold sweat that made his skin goose-pimple and prickle, as if it was being rubbed down with sandpaper. Hungover was too feeble a word to describe how he was feeling.
He stumbled into the bathroom. He didn’t need to pee – he was far too dehydrated for that – what he needed was to drink. He filled a tumbler with water and gulped it down. And another. And another. His body soaked up the liquid like a brittle sponge.
The sudden intake of fluid made his insides feel loose. He sat on the toilet, hunched over with his elbows resting on his thighs. A prolonged fart echoed round the bathroom, then, as if a stopper had been pulled out of an up-turned bottle, his bowels followed through with a stream of black liquid that splattered and splashed dark dribbles up the bowl.
He saw his clothes in a heap on the floor. That was a first. Usually it didn’t matter how drunk he was, he always hung up his suit before going to bed. As he stepped into the cubicle, the shower turned on automatically and hot water coursed over him, needling his head and body with fine Jacuzzi jets. He stood as still as a statue in a fountain. The water was energising. It felt good.
After brushing his teeth, shaving and splashing on co
logne, he felt a little better. At least some colour had come back into his face and the puffiness was going down. He walked back into the bedroom, dressed and took a final look in the mirror as he brushed his hair. Well, that was obviously as good as it was going to get.
He emerged at eight o’clock, feeling slightly less sick than when he’d first woken, to find that Drew was already up. Wearing a towelling dressing gown he’d taken off the hook in the guest bathroom he looked quite at home behind the kitchen counter. More at home than Carlos ever did. He’d made coffee and found a packet of Carlos’s favourite Marie biscuits in the cupboard, which he was arranging on a plate.
‘Morning,’ he said, looking up. ‘Oh crikey! You’d better sit down before you fall down, mate.’
Carlos hoisted himself onto a kitchen stool.
‘Good job you swallowed those pills last night. Here, take some more. And drink more water. You’ve got to be dehydrated as hell.’
Hand shaking, Carlos washed down more Panadols. The blue-white light reflecting off the snowy roofs outside, streamed through the skylight making him squint and he crashed down the tumbler on the counter, misjudging its height.
‘Take it easy,’ Drew said. Then he chuckled. ‘It was that last glass of wine that did it.’ He picked up the pot to pour coffee.
Carlos wasn’t hungry but knew he should try to force down a biscuit. It was a struggle. He could scarcely make the saliva to masticate his food and swallowing it took real willpower. ‘Pass one of those isotonic drinks,’ he said, his voice sounding deep and croaky in his ears. ‘In the fridge. I can’t face this coffee.’
He downed the can in one and sat, elbows on the counter, head in his hands. ‘I should have been at the office an hour ago. We got this big Session in two weeks.’ Carlos peered up at Drew trying not to move his head too quickly. ‘How come you look so… so fresh?’
‘Because you hardly gave me a look in with the wine last night. You were knocking it back like it was going out of fashion.’
‘The wine I can handle. It’s the other things you made me drink,’ Carlos groaned as he slid off his chair. ‘I must call Corrinne, tell her I’m running late.’
‘So what were you gibbering about last night? Something about e-mails.’
‘Oh Christ!’ Carlos grabbed his head, ‘I forgot.’ He disappeared into the bedroom and came back a few moments later carrying his iTab and RFId tag. He logged in and sent Hans an instant message. In an instant Hans’s bespectacled face appeared on the screen.
‘I haven’t got much. All we know is the e-mails were sent from a spoofed address.’
‘What’s that mean?’ Carlos asked.
‘It means the address doesn’t exist, that the domain name is non-existent. But I don’t yet have confirmation how they got on the system. We submitted a batch job yesterday to search the logs overnight and we’re checking the results now. I’ll get back to you when we’re done.’
‘Okay. Call me when you know more.’ Carlos grimaced and clutched his stomach. ‘Cramps,’ he said to Drew, ‘I’ve got to go.’ He stumbled off his chair and headed for the bathroom.
After some time he limped back, his face sallow.
‘That must be a weight off your mind,’ Drew laughed.
‘Oh please.’ Carlos sat back down to find that his terminal session had timed out while he was in the toilet. He logged back in again.
‘Will you get me another drink? I feel like I’m going to throw up.’ As Drew rummaged in the bottom of the fridge for another can of isotonic he heard Carlos gasp, ‘Jesus Christ! Not another one.’
Drew walked round to the other side of the counter and stared at the screen. ‘What in hell is the Galactic Federation?’
Once again the body of the e-mail was empty and a video file was attached.
Carlos banged his hands on the work surface. ‘I don’t understand. Why’s this person keep sending me messages? What does he want?’
‘Go on – play the video,’ Drew said, and for the second time the elderly man’s face filled the screen and he began to speak.
‘Carlos, now you have had time to assimilate our warning, we have more information to give you. The Galactic Federation is, to use an expression with which you are familiar, a consortium. A consortium of consciousness scattered throughout our universe, representing many civilisations that comprise many entities. Our understanding is deep and broad.
‘Because you humans’ knowledge of the universe is fragmentary, we will give you a more complete understanding by explaining the full meaning of the concept that you name “evolution”.
‘We know the majority of educated humans on your planet believe human life originated from your marine organisms, from which evolved reptiles, birds, mammals, apes, and eventually mankind, and that natural selection has a commanding role in this process. All this is correct. However, it is only a partial understanding of the all-embracing concept of evolution.
‘You must understand, Carlos, it is not just the many species on your Earth that are evolving. Your entire planet is evolving, as is your solar system, as is your galaxy, as is our entire universe. It is all interconnected. Our consciousness is the universe and the consciousness of the universe is us. This connectivity can be expressed by the word “unity”. Our universe is evolving in unity.’
They watched the entire video and when it finished Drew exhaled. ‘What a load of shit! But credit where it’s due. Someone’s invested a hell of a lot of time putting all that together.’
‘I have to make another Incident Report,’ Carlos muttered, stabbing at the virtual keys on the counter top. ‘We have to find out where these e-mails are coming from.’
‘Don’t worry, you will. There’ll be an explanation. Has to be. By the time you get in, Hans will have sussed it out. Mark my words.’
Carlos carried on typing. ‘Drew, I need your details. I have to put you on this report. Security requirements. You know what it’s like.’
Carlos hit the send button and walked round the counter. His body was now ready for coffee – in fact, it was craving coffee – he didn’t care how dehydrated he was. He poured fresh mugs for himself and Drew.
‘I tell you something,’ Drew said, ‘some of what that bloke just said was pretty incredible.’
‘Sí lo sé. He described a completely new model of the expanding universe. Claiming it started as a conscious being called the One, a pure point without time and space with the perfect symmetry of a sphere, then separated its energy into two parts with different rates of vibration swirling in opposite directions and saying that’s what we call dark energy…’
‘We reckon dark energy makes up about seventy per cent of the universe and that it’s responsible for pushing space to expand, and there he is,’ Drew gestured to the screen, ‘saying the two components of the differently vibrating dark energies collided and blended and were compressed to form a miniature replica sphere inside the original and that it’s the process of this being repeated and repeated until billions of spheres are nested within the original that causes the physical size of the sphere to expand. I mean, he’s saying the same thing. Just in a different way.’
‘Sí. And because the interior pressure is constantly pulsing inside the sphere as it expands but the exterior surface of the original sphere is under constant pressure from outside limiting the size to which it can grow, when it can’t get any bigger and all the available energy from the dark energy is used up, the force of the outside pressure collapses the sphere back into a point of singularity, what he calls the shift into Oneness, with no consciousness of separation… only a consciousness of unity… and that’s the completion of the One’s full cycle of evolution…’
‘… and the beginning of a new cycle,’ Drew shook his head. ‘He’s describing cyclic cosmology. And what about linking the evolutionary process to vibration? That when the frequency of vibration increases, the geometry of matter becomes more complex? Come on,’ Drew said, ‘let’s watch it again.’
So Carlos replayed the video.
‘Up to this bit he almost has me hooked,’ Drew said.
‘The structure of our universe,’ the old man continued, ‘is determined by vibration that forms many different stages of density partitioned into eight progressive and discrete levels. Each level of density incorporates a journey through higher and higher sub-densities of vibration, culminating in a quantum shift to the next level.
‘The number eight is significant. It relates to the Platonic solid shapes comprising our universe, the notes in your octave of the diatonic scale and when the seven colours of your spectrum combine and merge to create the all-encompassing white light, it also totals eight.
‘The process of evolution is not the smooth flow of development you previously understood it to be. Think of ice, Carlos. Ice is the state of water when frozen. When ice is heated, its rate of vibration and therefore its temperature increases. At a specific vibration and temperature level, ice experiences a quantum shift. It changes its state from a solid to that of a liquid. Similarly, when water is heated, its rate of vibration and therefore its temperature increases until it experiences another quantum shift and changes from a liquid to a vapour. You humans use the term “phase transition” to describe this phenomenon, which can equally be used to describe the process of evolution and the analogy will help you more easily understand its quantum nature.
‘It is important you know that although every particle in our universe has a degree of existence in each density, it is the consciousness of an entity, for you Carlos the consciousness of your planet Earth together with your human consciousness, that focuses matter in the prevailing density.
‘You humans, your planet Earth and indeed your whole galaxy is focused in the third density. This is represented by the Platonic solid shape of an octahedron, the vibration you humans perceive as your colour yellow, and the note “mi” on the scale of the octave.
‘The Galactic Federation is from the sixth density.’ The image smiled a radiant smile and with outstretched arms drew attention to its lustrous robe. ‘You humans perceive the vibration of our density as the colour indigo. Our Platonic solid shape is the dodecahedron and our note on the scale of the octave is “la”.
