by J M Leitch
Could it be true.
Or is Zul an entity from another density and are we really in the middle of some sick science experiment.
But that’s just as far fetched as my explanation.
And here I am back in the same quandary we’ve all been bogged down in ever since Zul first appeared.
Is Zul human or not.
Tuesday 26th March 2013
I just got back from visiting Carlos again. Waiting for the Tribunal to finish its investigation is driving him crazy, especially since he has so little to do. So I brought him an iPod loaded with music and audio books, thinking it might give him a few hours of distraction.
I told him all my news, although I didn’t have very much. I told him how Drew and Erika had bought a seriously “fuck off house” as Drew calls it, on an elite street and insists they call it Hetty. Carlos laughed and said he’s happy Drew’s aunt left him some serious money to play with. I told him they’re taking the boys on a road trip during the school holidays and how much they’re all looking forward to it. Then I told him that all his family is well but missing city life. And my mum and dad and sister and her husband are also good, and looking forward to my visit in a few days, because since there’s virtually no chance Carlos will be around for the birth of our daughter, I’ve decided to have her in England.
Carlos tried to put on a laid-back act for my sake, but it’s obvious he’s not in a good head-space… not at all. The news that the UN has abandoned the meditation initiative hit him very hard. I told him it was a blow for Greg too. But the final straw for Greg was the Tribunal telling him how the lethal virus was distributed, something it has yet to make public.
When Greg had called his voice was flat, as if all the emotion had been crushed out of him. I have terrible news, he said. Repugnant news. A few weeks ago the Tribunal ordered all laboratories involved in manufacturing the swine flu vaccine last year, to submit samples for analysis. Every single one was contaminated. They all contained the killer virus. That’s how the poor and low-income families got infected, through the free UN vaccine.
I’d gasped. But as I thought about it, the less I could believe it. Hold on, I said, how could the vaccine have been tampered with in so many labs scattered all round the world – it would have been impossible to keep it secret. Besides, each manufacturer’s method of preparation is different and every vaccine preparation is tested to check it’s safe and effective. I know the process – I volunteered, remember. And another thing, how could they ensure contaminated vaccine went to the UN and nowhere else.
Because, Greg answered, the recipe for the vaccine manufactured for free distribution included an extra ingredient, a dose of multi-vitamins. That’s what carried the virus.
I told Carlos how I’d sunk into a chair, thinking I was going to pass out, when I realised that by giving out free vaccine in Europe I, myself, had been responsible for the deaths of thousands. So many people thanked me, Carlos, I said. Many called me an angel. Some angel… an angel of death.
Beccy, querida. He put his arms around me and held me tight. You didn’t know. How could you know. How could anyone know. But now I know, I mumbled into the hollow of his shoulder. What I don’t know is how I can live with it.
After Greg called, I’d sat in the chair, incapable of moving. The anonymous faces that had haunted me on Christmas morning were no longer anonymous. The slaughter was personal because I’d been responsible for a part of it. That knowledge tortured me and the only way I could deal with it was by building a mental barrier to shut it out. But when Carlos rocked me in his arms, the barrier broke, and all the anguish that had piled up against it, the ever-increasing burden I’d been heaving around behind me for days, escaped.
I sobbed and sobbed. And he let me.
At last I broke out of his embrace to wipe my eyes and blow my nose. He placed the flat of his hand on my tummy. Try not to cry any more, he said. We don’t want to upset the baby.
But, he went on, with a puzzled look on his face, I still don’t get it. Surely the labs tested the vaccine after the vitamins were added. I blew my nose again, and nodded. So why didn’t anyone pick it up then. Because although the labs followed the same procedure for testing random samples of the finished product, all the tests were designed to do was establish that the vaccine was safe and effective… and until the virus was triggered, it was safe. Those tests would never have revealed the virus. Only a detailed analysis could have done that. And why analyse something they’d just manufactured.
Now they’ve been able to compare the activated virus with samples in its un-triggered state, they’ve also confirmed it was genetically engineered. No surprise there, of course. Not now.
What about the lab that manufactured the vitamins, Carlos asked. I shook my head. The Tribunal couldn’t trace it. It just found a few warehouses scattered round the world where the vitamins had been shipped in and out. Any other records had either been destroyed or never existed. The virus could have been made anywhere.
Carlos squeezed his eyes shut. What a brutal blow for the UN, he said. And we’re still no nearer to knowing who’s responsible. How’s Greg handling it. More tears welled up and I tried to fight them back. Not good, Carlos. It’s not been made public yet, but he’ll resign. He’ll have to. And he wants to. I’ve tried to talk to him since, but he’s not taking my calls. The UN was his life. He was so proud of what he’d achieved, especially proud of rallying the support to fund all those billions of doses of the vaccine. You can imagine what he must be feeling now… knowing he’s the headman of an organisation that eliminated six billion people. He’ll never get over it.
Is the UN still giving you protection. No, I replied. That stopped the day Greg phoned.
Last night we curled up in bed like spoons. There was scarcely enough room for both of us my tummy is so huge, but it was a glorious sensation to have our naked bodies touching from head to toe. Even so, I couldn’t stop thinking about Zul. I couldn’t keep my theory to myself any longer. So I told Carlos.
At first he was indignant and argued every point. But my logic is sound and he couldn’t find a flaw. Having an explanation, although we still don’t know the individuals behind it, or why they did it, hammered home to Carlos how he'd been used, and he started to shake. I can’t imagine how awful it must be for him, knowing he’s been manipulated in such a terrible, terrible way. But you weren't the only one taken in, darling, it was everyone. I could feel his warm tears dripping on my neck. Carlos, darling, please don’t cry. If only I hadn’t believed in Zul, he said, then the plan would have failed. No, I said, they’d have done something else… found someone else. No one would go to all that trouble and risk the smallest chance of failure.
But how can you ever find out who’s responsible, Carlos said, how can you prove it. Everyone thinks I did it, and he began to sob again. Shush… darling… not everyone thinks that, and I wriggled myself backwards, snuggling closer into his body. After some time he asked if I’d talked to anyone else about it and I told him how Drew had laughed at me when I suggested a connection between Zul and the NASA rumour. He’s become so blinkered and dogmatic, I said, he’s convinced nobody will ever find out who’s responsible. He just wants to put it all behind him. He says now he’s found a woman he loves, now he has a family, all he wants is to settle down and forget everything else.
Carlos calmed down when I started talking about Drew. I suppose it took his mind off his terrible hurt. He said he could understand Drew, that he might feel the same after our little girl is born and he rubbed my belly round and round.
I’ve been thinking, I said, and I squeezed his arms tighter about me when I heard him laugh in my ear and whisper, when do you ever stop thinking. I’m serious, I went on. I read through my book again, the bits about Zul and Astraea. How did they know when to piggyback the holovideos. They were listening in, Carlos said, from an external location through a window perhaps, or they could have bugged the buildings. OOSA’s offices were stripped when the ho
logram equipment was installed at the beginning of last year… they could have done it then. As for the penthouse… the agent had a key. He used to open it for tradesmen if things needed fixing when I wasn’t around. Anyone could have got in there.
So I could check your old office for bugs, I said, but I felt Carlos shaking his head. They’re way too clever for that. They’d have got rid of any evidence a long time ago. How, I asked. I don’t know, he said, and I felt him shrug. Perhaps they used microscopic cameras and microphones operated by remote control – they could fly them in and out of heating or air conditioning vents.
There’s something else, I said. Whoever beamed the lasers in had to have line of sight, so perhaps I can download some software that works out which locations could see into the buildings. But there’s no guarantee the lasers were beamed in from Vienna. They could have come from near or even outer space, he answered. I still think it’s worth looking at, I told him. It’s something I’m going to work on when I get to England. I’m sure the Tribunal will be onto it, he said, giving me a squeeze. Somehow, though, I’m not so sure about that.
I sighed and Carlos nuzzled his head into my hair and kissed my neck. I felt so safe cuddled up with him there. But I still couldn’t stop thinking about Zul.
It’s driving me nuts, I said, banging my head on the pillow. Who devised such a repellent plan. And worse still, we were both part of it. If the American military's behind it, they could have used any one of their agencies or subbed it out to a foreign intelligence agency or even put together a special team themselves, and I felt Carlos’s breath hot on my neck and his brow rubbing my hair as he shook his head. Who knows… who knows… but you must promise me, he said, that you’ll be careful. Don’t put yourself in danger. I promise, I replied. I mean it, he said, nipping my ear with his teeth and although he couldn’t see it, I know he knew I was smiling.
It was such a sad farewell. After breakfast we hugged for the longest time and I tried to impress every essence of that hug into my memory bank, so I can pull it out in the future when I need comforting. Then Carlos started sobbing. You won’t even be able to send me photos of her, he said, and I started crying too. This is not the way we planned our baby to come into the world – with parents in two different countries – unable to communicate properly. I took his head in my hands. Darling, I said, I’ll get a message to you the minute she’s born. I promise. I know you will, he replied.
And we’re agreed… on the name, I asked. Yes, and he smothered my face with little kisses. Rachael.
Sunday 19th May 2013
I’m in England staying with my parents and our gorgeous Rachael is just one month old. She is exquisite. The sweetest, most beautiful baby ever. She has a mop of dark curls just like Daddy’s and her blue eyes are getting darker every day. I’m deeply ashamed to remember that when I first found out I was pregnant I actually considered abortion. Thank goodness Carlos was so sure because, as Erika said to me back then, right now I could never imagine the world without Rachael being a part of it. I love her so much.
I speak to Carlos every day and it’s killing him not being able to see Rachael. I want to take her with me to visit, but we’re afraid it’s too dangerous. He says we must wait for the Tribunal to release its findings.
And I’m not feeling very positive about that. After hoping at the beginning that the investigation would get to the bottom of the massacre, every week more stuff comes out in the press pointing the finger at Carlos and now I’m afraid the Tribunal might make him their prime suspect. I feel so helpless. Helpless and angry. Especially when all the arguments they’re using against him are biased and many are plain lies.
The most damaging story came out after some scientists were debating whether the virus could have been triggered by a high frequency radio wave. Within hours, an un-named source said there’d been a Klystron, a machine used to send out radio waves, at the OOSA office back in December that Carlos could have used to activate the virus. When I asked him, he said Willem had the unit sent over because of some Space-Based Solar Power project. But how would Carlos have got into OOSA to set it off. His clearance was rescinded when he stopped working there in April last year. In any case, before the virus struck, I was with him the whole time on the 21st December, apart from when he went to the loo. Also, as Carlos pointed out, no one said anything about it being connected to an antenna so it could actually beam a signal out.
I’m just waiting for the Tribunal to call me in. When they do, I’ll set them straight and no mistake.
It’s comforting to know Joseph’s there for me. He doesn’t often contact me and never calls just for a chat like Drew, but the day the UN withdrew their protection he made private arrangements to have me watched. Trouble is, I get the feeling even he’s starting to get worried.
Right now I’m scared things might get really nasty. To be honest, I’m absolutely terrified what might happen.
Tuesday 25th June 2013
Today is my birthday. I’m thirty years old. Today was also the day I received some more shocking news. The Tribunal’s finished its investigation and will arrest Carlos for masterminding the global holocaust. When he told me, I couldn’t say a word… I couldn’t hold back the tears. Don’t cry querida, he told me. But… but it’s unbelievable, I said, they don’t have one scrap of evidence against you. Are you really so surprised, he asked. They needed a scapegoat and looks like I’m it.
It makes no sense at all, I shouted down the phone. It’s illogical. If you were the one behind it all, why would you give yourself such a high profile role. Querida, shush, stop crying. And then I remembered. Carlos, earlier I was checking something out… yes, he said… what we talked about last time we were together… and… well I found something. Beccy, he said, don’t say any more. No, I replied, I won’t. I just wanted you to know. Perhaps when the time comes, it will help.
So what happens now, I asked. There’ll be a trial, he replied. Oh darling, I can’t believe this is happening. After everything you did for the world… I just can’t believe it. It’s… it’s so unfair. I don’t know where the trial will be, he said. Watch the news. They’re making the announcement later today. If I hear anything else, I’ll try and call you.
How can you be so cool, I sobbed. Beccy, he said, I’ve been sitting here waiting for something to happen for months. I know it’s not what we wanted and it’s certainly not right. But it is something. At least now I’ve got a chance to have my say.
I turned on the TV to catch the lunchtime news and sure enough, there was talk about the Tribunal’s announcement on every single channel. Carlos’s photo is everywhere with the word, “GUILTY” stamped over it.
I clicked the off button of the remote, hurled it onto the floor and got up to pace the room. How can they arrest Carlos. The only answer is that the Tribunal has been compromised, which means he’s in great danger. And I have this fear, a real cold fear, that I’m in danger too and that if I don’t keep my mouth shut about what I found out earlier today, someone else might shut it for me.
Carlos called again a few hours later. Since the announcement was made public, Greg broke his long silence and bombarded all the Tribunal officials with calls in his capacity as ex-Secretary-General and persuaded them to take me to Carlos. I’m to be ready at seven o’clock tomorrow morning when a car will collect me and take me to the airport.
And what about Rachael, I asked. I want to meet my baby so much, Carlos said, his voice breaking, you can’t imagine how much… but… but you have to come alone. Will your parents look after her. I was silent as my brain tried to weigh the pros and cons of leaving her behind. But Carlos, I said, I can’t leave her. Beccy, he went on, his voice stern, it will be a nightmare. It’s the highest profile crime in the history of the planet. They’re accusing me of murdering six billion people. Think about it, Beccy. Six billion people. I want you with me. I need you with me. I need your support. And they’ll call you as a witness anyhow. But believe me querida, it’s no place for our
baby.
But Carlos… Beccy, he said, just because they’ve arrested me doesn’t mean there aren’t some crazies out there who still want to hurt us. Rachael’s safest left in hiding with your family. We could put her life at risk if we bring her out in public now.
I couldn’t speak. Beccy, I heard him say. It’s okay, I murmured, I understand. Now listen. You’ll fly to Vienna where a car will pick you up and take you to the outskirts of Brno. That’s where we’ll meet, and I could hear his breathing heavy over the phone. Greg’s making the arrangements, he said. You’ll be moved in strictest secrecy and you’ll have twenty-four hour protection.
I felt split in half. I so want to see Carlos but I can’t stand to leave Rachael.
Then I remembered there was one more thing I had to say. Something I hoped would protect us. Carlos, I said, when we talked earlier and I said I’d found something, well, I was wrong. I checked it out again and I was quite wrong. It was nothing. Nothing at all.
I’m excited and nervous about seeing Carlos after so long – and anxious about leaving little Rachael. I know she’ll be fine with my mum but I will miss her terribly. She picked up on my mood and got so grizzly I had to strap her on my chest in her baby carrier so I could comfort her while I finished packing. As a result it took twice as long, because I couldn’t carry very much at one go and I ended up running from room to room like a blue-arsed fly gathering up my stuff while cherishing the physical contact with my baby, before I have to leave her for how long I don’t know. Then I called my sister to make sure she’s in before I dash over to her place and say goodbye.
All I have to do now is print out what I’ve written today, double check that I’ve erased every trace of my writings from the iTab and Time Machine, and take the last few pages over to my sister to put in Carlos’s old briefcase with the rest of the manuscript. After what I learned today, I’m glad I’ve been so careful hiding it inside the cover of the stroller a few pages at a time, so as not to draw attention in case someone’s been watching.
