The Zul Enigma

by J M Leitch

  Anita leaned forward. ‘Are you saying Roberts didn’t think Maiz sent the messages?’

  ‘Yes. He believed someone else had found a way to access the UN’s system. He was stunned when Maiz told him about the virtual baby. He thought the messages had pushed Maiz over the edge, causing him to hallucinate, and that because of Maiz’s unstable mental state he’d started believing “Zul” was real, because subconsciously he wanted to create the illusion of some higher purpose in his life.

  ‘Then the next thing he hears, Maiz and Howard have gotten an appointment to meet with you. Roberts couldn’t believe it. He just hoped Howard had a handle on it and that Maiz would come through without making himself look like a complete cretin.’

  ‘And now he agrees with our theory,’ Bob smiled.

  ‘He agrees Maiz could be suffering from depression. But that he…’

  ‘Are you sure no one else is involved?’ Anita pushed.

  ‘Anita. There is no evidence to support it and even if there were, Maiz would have to know about it because, as I keep reiterating, NASA has not yet found a way anyone could hack into his terminal. We’re dealing with a man who’s had no contact with anyone other than business colleagues, family and Roberts since his wife died over three years ago. He’s a loner, a virtual recluse. Since he’s been at the safe house, he’s been getting more and more agitated and withdrawn. Right now it looks like he could be on the verge of complete mental collapse.’

  ‘He could be faking it. He was into acting after all,’ Bob said. ‘Perhaps he wants to discredit me. I didn’t like his attitude when I met him.’

  Barbara, tugging at the hem of her skirt to stop it riding up, boosted herself onto the edge of the couch.

  ‘There’s nothing to substantiate him wanting to discredit you. And for him to keep up such a pretence twenty-four hours a day? It’s extremely unlikely.’

  ‘And his computers? Work and laptop, or whatever the hell it is he uses? Anything compromising?’

  ‘We only had limited access to the UN system for a short period of time, remember we came in after NASA, but we didn’t turn up anything significant on his terminal at work. Of course, we checked his iTab at the house but there’s nothing suspicious on there either.’

  ‘Hardly surprising. He’d be a fool to keep any incriminating evidence.’ Bob leaned in closer. ‘Are you sure you’ve covered every angle?’

  ‘Yes. But you know my view. I’d like NASA to finish their investigation and I’d like to see a psychiatric assessment before we meet with Maiz.’

  ‘And you know my opinion,’ boomed Bob. ‘Every hour we wait increases the risk of this getting out. So I want it sewn up now.’ He brushed a piece of fluff off his trouser leg with his little finger. ‘Even if NASA does find new evidence, it won’t affect our decision now, will it?’

  Barbara sighed. ‘No, sir. That is true.’

  ‘And there’s no other possible scenario?’ Anita insisted.

  Barbara turned towards her. ‘Only that “Zul” is indeed an alien.’

  ‘Spare me, Barbara, please!’ Bob held up his hands. ‘We all know NASA’s dragging their feet on this and we all know the reason why. Never mind what I told him, James let something slip about the investigation and NASA’s retaliating. They’re prolonging releasing their final report to make me stew.’ He pointed at Barbara. ‘So I don’t wanna hear any more talk like that from you.’ She dropped her eyes and stared at her hands. ‘No one mentions the word alien, understood? Not with an election coming up and the opinion polls dipping the way they are. Are we all quite clear on that?’

  ‘Yes, Mr President.’ Barbara muttered.

  ‘If this gets out now, it’ll kill me. The last thing I need’s another Roswell. Not on my watch.’ He picked up the report and flicked through it. ‘What else?’

  She sighed. ‘That’s it, sir. Based on our findings, I’ve dropped the level of surveillance on Roberts.’

  ‘Fine. Anita?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ve nothing else.’

  ‘Good. Now, this meeting Barbara, I’m holding it here and I wanna be present. I wanna see with my own eyes how Dr Maiz handles himself.’

  ‘Sir, remember he’s unwell…’

  ‘I’m aware of that,’ Bob cut in, ‘so present your findings and give him his options. But keep it brief. I want this over as quick as possible.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  There was a knock on the door and Bob slapped down the file. ‘Good timing.’

  Amanda showed Carlos into the office and Tom followed.

  ‘Come on in Dr Maiz,’ Bob called out from his favourite chair at the opposite end of the room. His expression was grim and Carlos knew his words weren’t an invitation – they were a challenge.

  Anita was sitting on one of the couches and another woman, who Carlos didn't recognise, sat opposite her on the other. Tom closed the door after Carlos and stood with his back to it, legs apart and arms folded. No one made a move to stand up or shake hands and by the time Carlos reached the other end of the room he was really worried. What bothered him most was being called back to the Oval Office. What was so important that Bob hadn’t delegated the meeting to someone else? Was this turning into a personal vendetta?

  ‘Dr Maiz,’ Bob said, leaning forward and gripping the arm rests of his chair. He nodded in Barbara’s direction, ‘this is Barbara Lord, my Director of National Intelligence. Anita you’ve already met. Now, sit down, won’t you. Barbara, you can take it from here.’

  Carlos lowered himself onto the couch next to Anita. Opposite him Barbara shifted forward preparing to speak, overwhelming him with the aroma of her perfume. It was a dense Estée Lauder fragrance, one he particularly disliked. The name escaped him, but the smell stuck in the back of his throat and made his head ache.

  ‘Dr Maiz, as you know at the Secretary-General’s request, the President agreed for NASA to investigate the messages you claim to have received from the one you call “Zul”.’ Carlos wasn’t surprised to hear the hint of a San Fernando Valley accent – from the look of Barbara alone, he’d already guessed she came from Southern California.

  ‘A couple of days ago NASA gave us a preliminary report. Like your own Network Security Department, NASA confirms the e-mails you received were spoofed, did not come through the Internet and originated from your own terminal sessions. However, unlike your people, NASA has come up with an explanation – the only possible explanation – that you either alone or with one or more accomplices recorded the audio and video files, spoofed the e-mails and sent them to yourself.’

  Carlos shook his head in exaggerated disbelief. ‘Hey, surprise, surprise.’ He knew they’d say Earthly technology was responsible for the messages, he knew they’d say they came from his computer and he knew they’d say he sent them. But there were still two things in his favour. In spite of what NASA said, the final ITU-T investigation results would be impartial; and since he was innocent there was no motive or scrap of evidence anyone could uncover that could prove he was guilty. So why couldn’t he get Drew’s words out of his head. “You can’t go into the Oval Office and tell the President you’ve been contacted by aliens without someone pushing the panic button… they’re going to nail your arse”?

  Barbara continued, ‘I’m here because the Secretary-General agreed my agency should corroborate the two other investigations.’

  So that was it. Greg had handed Carlos over to the Americans on a plate. How could he? Drew was right. They were going to nail his arse.

  Carlos closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  ‘We’ve talked to your colleagues, family and friends. They unanimously confirm that since your wife was tragically murdered you changed. Drastically. They all concur you became withdrawn, solitary and started drinking heavily. Many believe you are suffering with depression. Your friends in Vienna claim you pushed them away and those from Goddard say you lost touch. With one exception, that is, Dr Drew Roberts.’

  Barbara, who had been con
sulting the file, lowered her voice and looked at Carlos for the first time since they had been introduced.

  ‘Dr Maiz, we believe that recently you experienced a significant escalation in symptoms of the psychological trauma resulting from your wife’s murder, causing you to become delusional and lead to the course of events we’ve been called in to investigate.’

  ‘Jesus!’ Carlos shook his head again.

  ‘Now, Dr Maiz. The messages. Did you act alone or did you have accomplices?’

  Carlos lifted his arms and turned towards Bob. ‘Where’s the evidence, hey? Where’s the proof I sent the messages? Where’s the proof my mind is lost? You have none! And why’s that? Because there is none!’ He raised his voice. ‘What you say I did is lies. All lies.’

  Bob stared at Carlos, his eyes unblinking as Barbara continued, her voice hushed.

  ‘Dr Maiz, your reaction doesn’t surprise us but it does sadden us. You are either in denial regarding your mental state or suffering from…’

  ‘Denial? Me? You’re the ones in denial – denial about where these messages are coming from,’ Carlos snorted.

  ‘Dr Maiz, do you not recognise the crimes you’ve committed?’

  ‘Crimes? What crimes? What are you accusing me of?’

  ‘How about instigating a hoax with the intent of threatening homeland security? Now Dr Maiz, do you have any information to offer regarding accomplices?’

  ‘You tell me. You think you know it all.’

  ‘We believe you acted alone. To the best of your knowledge, is that true?’

  ‘If I did it alone, how do you explain about Zul?’

  ‘We know you have a hobby, Dr Maiz. We know you were a member of the drama club when you worked at Goddard. We know you have experience applying stage make-up. We know you’re an amateur actor. We believe you filmed yourself playing the part of “Zul”.’

  The idea was so preposterous Carlos was left speechless and for the merest breath of a moment he saw a glimmer of something in Barbara’s face as, unwilling or unable to hold Carlos’s gaze, her eyes slid down to consult the file on her lap. But by the time he’d registered the look, it had dispersed, leaving him wondering if his imagination had played a trick.

  He flung himself back on the couch.

  Barbara continued. ‘We ran a test to compare your voice patterns with those of “Zul”. The results back up our hypothesis.’

  Carlos was now shaking his head furiously. ‘Back up you say – not prove – because there is no proof. How can you accuse me without one piece of evidence?’

  ‘You’ve committed a serious offence, Dr Maiz. We don’t think you realise just how much trouble you’re in. But we do believe…’

  ‘You have no evidence…’

  ‘Please do not interrupt. We do believe that as a result of your mental condition you have been afflicted with amnesia during certain time periods, which explains why you can’t remember filming the videos or sending the messages. Dr Maiz,’ Barbara continued, lowering her voice, ‘we have an offer to make. If you agree to voluntarily commit yourself to a mental institution in your hometown of Madrid we will take no action against you. If you refuse, however, we will pursue this incident with the full power at our disposal. And that, Dr Maiz, will not be pleasant. You have our absolute assurance on it.’

  ‘You’re threatening me?’

  ‘I’m not threatening you, Dr Maiz. I’m simply stating facts.’

  ‘But I’ve done nothing wrong.’

  ‘The evidence points to the contrary.’

  Carlos was beginning to panic. ‘But you don’t have any evidence. YOU HAVE NO PROOF!’ he bellowed.

  ‘We have your office CCTV records.’

  ‘They can’t prove anything.’

  ‘They prove you had the opportunity.’

  ‘How?’

  Barbara leafed through the report. ‘One. The e-mail you received at UNO on Monday March 12…’

  ‘When I wasn’t even at my desk.’

  ‘You walked out of your office carrying your jacket with the RFId tag clipped to it at 19:39:56. As you walked down the corridor you took your iTab out of your trouser pocket and made a call.’

  ‘Sí. I wanted to book a table for dinner but the line was busy.’

  ‘You entered the men’s room and were in a stall at 19:40:33, the exact time the e-mail was sent from your terminal session…’

  ‘But…’

  ‘We enhanced your office CCTV video and it shows the exact time your terminal screen changed content when it received the message, which coincides with the time you executed the x-mail programme from your iTab in the bathroom…’

  ‘But…’

  ‘…which also ties in with the internal e-mail server’s own e-mail log. Since you were logged in on your terminal and on your iTab by taking your tag and iTab to the men’s room, you ensured your session would not be terminated. You sent this e-mail to yourself.’

  ‘That’s… wait a minute… you say the CCTV records show my terminal screen changing when the message came in… but if I’d input any data on my iTab, then that would have shown on there too.’

  ‘Not necessarily true, Dr Maiz. Depending on how the system is set up, it’s also possible that the input is not duplicated on the remotely controlled session. Nice try, but I assure you everything checks out. Two. The message you received at your home the same evening.’

  ‘Drew, Dr Roberts, was at my apartment…’

  ‘And we’ve spoken to him. He was in another room when you set up your iTab in the kitchen. You had ample opportunity to send that one unobserved.’

  ‘This is…’

  ‘Three. The following morning at your apartment. You were logged in on your iTab in the kitchen and again, sent the message to yourself.’

  ‘But Dr Roberts was with me when…’

  ‘He told us he was searching through your refrigerator for an isotonic drink, at your request,’ she said with emphasis, ‘the exact time the third e-mail arrived. Four. At your office on Friday March 16.’

  ‘How can you explain that one, hey? Hans Baade was sitting at my terminal at the time.’

  ‘And you were sitting behind him on the couch. You used your iTab to send it.’

  ‘You don’t know that. The couch in my office isn’t in range of CCTV.’

  ‘Baade told us when he looked round at you, you were holding your iTab.’

  ‘Sí, I picked it up because I nearly sat on it…’

  ‘He said you shouted at him,’ she consulted the file, ‘“what are you staring at?”. He confirms you had time to use your iTab to send the fourth message while he was calling up the logs.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake… I don’t even know how to spoof an e-mail,’ Carlos said slumping back into the cushions, his face contorted in frustration. ‘Why are you doing this to me?’

  ‘Dr Maiz,’ Barbara continued, her voice low, ‘we don’t want to harm you. We want to help…’

  Carlos sat upright with a jolt. ‘The baby! The hologram.’

  ‘Of course we investigated that too. NASA checked the logs and there is no record of a second holovideo call coming in that day.’

  ‘How about ITU-T’s final report?’

  ‘The Secretary-General cancelled their investigation.’

  ‘I don’t believe it.’ Carlos sank back in his seat again and buried his face in his hands.

  ‘As I was saying Dr Maiz, we want to help you. Make the right choice. Commit yourself to a mental institution.’

  ‘And if I don’t?’

  ‘Then we will have no choice but to consider you a security threat and deal with you accordingly. It’s up to you.’

  ‘I’m no security threat. You know that. If any crime’s been committed, it’s against the UN in Vienna and it’s up to the UN in Vienna to investigate, not you. You don’t have this kind of jurisdiction. What you’re doing is illegal and I can’t believe Greg’s letting it happen.’

  ‘When he met the President late Mon
day afternoon, the Secretary-General agreed to abide by the results of our investigation and to comply with our recommendations. You think we have no power over this case? You have no idea how wrong you are.’

  Carlos was trapped and he knew it. One way or the other, these people intended robbing him of his freedom and there was nothing he could do to fight it. How dare they! He felt a surge of anger that he thought would make his heart explode.

  ‘Do you really think I’m going to check into a mental hospital when there’s nothing wrong with me?’

  ‘So you refuse?’

  ‘Sí, yes! No! I don’t know,’ he threw his hands in the air and brought them down with a thump either side of himself on the couch. ‘This is a big shock to me. I need time to think.’ He looked at Barbara who was staring at him.

  ‘You have until midday Friday. That’s tomorrow.’

  Carlos shook his head. He couldn’t believe what was happening. And where was Zul? He felt abandoned and alone and with his conviction wavering for the first time since holding the baby, he began to fear that he was going crazy, just like they said.

  Bob, Barbara and Anita stood up simultaneously. Carlos looked up at them and also got to his feet. ‘You’ll regret this,’ he said summoning the last scrap of fight he could muster, ‘soon you’re all going to realise that you made a big mistake here.’

  Bob gave a humourless smile. ‘And when’ll that be, Dr Maiz?’ he asked, ‘the day hell freezes over?’

  ***

  When Tom opened the back door of the car, Carlos saw a man sitting behind the driver’s seat, the same person that had accompanied him to the White House earlier and who Tom had introduced as Paul. He didn’t acknowledge Carlos, just sat there, motionless staring straight ahead as they waited for Tom to start the engine.

  Even Tom had nothing to say that afternoon and the journey passed in silence for which Carlos was grateful, because since he’d left the Oval Office his brain had been buzzing. He wanted to talk to someone. He wanted to talk to Drew.