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  THE ZUL ENIGMA

  What readers around the world are saying about

  The Zul Enigma

  "I have just finished your book and it absolutely blew my mind into a bazillion pieces. It was amazing. The plot twist was fantastic and the moral dilemma was splendiferous. It was the best and most thought-provoking book I have read in quite some time." Michael Norrie, New Zealand.

  "I am not a big reader of books but when I was handed a copy of The Zul Enigma I could not put it down. The ending is brilliant and I, for one, will be going out for a few beers on 20th December 2012 just to be on the safe side!" Nigel Ames, Indonesia.

  “I loved the book. I found it thrilling and hard to put down. It is always a pleasure to enjoy a book so much. Thank you J M Leitch for writing it. I’ll be waiting for the next one.” Judy Fallin, USA.

  "I am confident that this book will do very well, a smash hit. It is much better than any other book I have read for ages." Joe Egré, UK.

  “The author kept the excitement, pace and direction of the novel most intriguing right up to the last page. Well worth reading!” Cheryl Roudnew, Australia.

  The Zul Enigma

  by

  J M Leitch

  The Zul Enigma Website

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  The Zul Enigma Book Trailer

  JL Press Pte Ltd

  600 North Bridge Road

  #06-05 Parkview Square

  Singapore 188778

  eBook Edition

  Copyright J M Leitch 2011

  First edition published in print April 2011

  Second edition published November 2011 available in print at most online retailers

  J M Leitch asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  For Irene, Katie and Richard

  CONTENTS

  PART I

  PART II

  PART III

  PART IV

  About The Author

  PART I

  APRIL 2068

  It took Scott Fuller a full five minutes to recover from the shock. A relative of the infamous Dr Carlos Maiz, the man charged with committing murder on the largest scale in the history of mankind, had hunted him down wanting to talk. He inhaled a deep breath before returning the call.

  He explained that Dr Maiz was hitting the depths of despair at the time they’d met, plus their contact had been brief. Very brief. A total of no more than fifteen minutes at most. Not to mention the fifty-six years that had passed since. However, he assured her, he never for one minute believed Dr Maiz was guilty of what he’d been accused – to the contrary – he thought the man had done everything in his power to help humanity rather than harm it, but other than that, there was not much more he could say.

  The woman was silent, resigned in her belief that Scott would refuse to see her. But she was wrong. Instead he told her he could understand her reasons for wanting to talk and asked if she would be free to drop over later that afternoon.

  She rented a car through the hotel where she was staying on Miami Beach. After announcing her destination into the microphone on the dashboard, the vehicle chauffeured her along the sleet driven streets to an old-style low-rise apartment block in Coral Gables, a suburb that had retained its exclusivity from the previous century, located just south of the heart of Miami. Once the sensors at the entrance verified her identity, two huge metal gates creaked open and the car propelled itself inside.

  The ocean gale was like a pack of giant wolves howling around the building and tearing its way inland. She peered out of the front windscreen and up at the trees lining the driveway, their branches whipped so violently back and forth she feared they might be ripped right off. Then the trees disappeared from view as she descended into the basement car park and the noise of the storm receded to be replaced by a hollow silence. After the car drew to a standstill in the visitor parking area, she got out and made her way to the vacant lift lobby.

  ‘Hello. We spoke earlier today. I’m Rachael,’ she said to the elderly man who opened the front door, ‘Rachael Harris.’

  MONDAY 12th – SUNDAY 25th MARCH 2012

  CHAPTER 1

  Slumped in his chair, Carlos Maiz stared through the office window into the night and onto the deserted gardens below.

  The snow just kept on falling. Illuminated by beams of distant lights, fat feathery flakes leapt and spun before drifting down to settle on the frozen ground beneath. No noise escaped the wintry scene outside as if a dense goose feather quilt had been tossed over the world, smothering every sound.

  If only he could tunnel into the thick, soft snow. He wanted to bury himself deep inside its silence and fall asleep.

  Fall asleep.

  Forever.

  ‘Sooo… are we going to switch the two afternoon speakers or not?’

  Her voice shattered the stillness, jerking Carlos round in his chair. Gazing straight at him from across the desk was his administrative assistant, fluffed up like a bird, head cocked, anxious to get back to business.

  God only knew how long she’d been waiting for his answer and he wished she’d just go home and leave him alone. He tried to disguise the look of irritation he knew to be spreading over his face.

  She arched an eyebrow. ‘So sorry,’ she said and he saw the corner of her mouth twitch, ‘I didn’t mean to make you jump.’ Did he detect a hint of sarcasm?

  Now, now, Carlos warned himself. Keep calm.

  ‘Corrinne,’ he opened his arms, pleading, ‘why don’t you pack up and go? It’s gone six!’

  ‘I think we should get this Session programme finished tonight. Don’t you?’ There she went again, Carlos thought, acting as if her nineteen years service with OOSA entitled her to boss the boss around. It made his blood boil.

  ‘But…’

  ‘Stop complaining, it won’t take long,’ she said enunciating every syllable. He hated it when she spoke to him like that – as if he were a child.

  ‘I can’t believe we have to change locations for the Subcommittee Session at the last minute like this,’ Carlos said, massaging his eyes. He was trying to give the impression it was the circumstances rather than his antagonism towards Corrinne that exasperated him, ‘and all because the central heating broke down and they don’t know how long it will take to fix it – hey!’ he gargled the “h” like a “j” in his Spanish mother tongue, ‘it’s too much!’

  ‘Old boilers, more trouble than they’re worth,’ sniffed Corrinne and Carlos shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. ‘Just be thankful I could pull enough strings to confirm the Austria Centre at such short notice.’ She leaned forward. ‘Sorry I couldn’t wait to clear with you first.’ Then with pursed lips she tucked her chin into her Chanel-clad chest in that annoying way she had whenever she thought she’d got one over on him.

  Although her attitude maddened him, he knew he shouldn’t let his irritation get in the way and sucking in a breath he tried to focus. ‘Tonight I’ll re-instigate the top-level security clearances protocol needs for the new location. What’s the deadline for the change of venue notices?’

  ‘Tomorrow, two o'clock. But if we need another day, it’s okay.’

  ‘Try to stick to the deadline. That’s your first priority tomorrow. You know what to do. Then set up a meeting in the conference room at ten for a final run through of the S
ession programme. Be sure everyone knows.’ Corrinne nodded.

  Carlos knew he needed to concentrate but it was impossible. The unprecedented escalation in natural disasters – headline news that day had been yet another volcanic eruption wiping out a city of thousands and burying swathes of Java and neighbouring islands in ash – and then there was the threat of another world war. The whole planet was going insane and it made the upcoming Session, his job, even his life, seem insignificant.

  As he stole a glance at Corrinne he struggled to shake off the weariness that accompanied his anxiety whenever he thought about the future. In contrast, she radiated energy. With her matching accessories, immaculate hairdo and oh so subtle makeup, she hadn’t flagged a jot since she first stepped into the office that morning.

  He watched her beavering away at the virtual keyboard created by a laser beam streaming from the top of the little computing device she’d set up on his desk. Her competence, for which he should have been thankful, grated. He was sure she could do his job – probably better than he. She made him feel redundant and not for the first time he wished she’d take advantage of the early retirement package.

  ‘That’s it, then. I’m finished here.’

  He lifted his arms hallelujah-style. ‘At last!’ He didn’t even try to hide the relief in his voice.

  She logged out, switched off the laser, and after folding the free-standing screen, slid it into its custom storage pocket located on the underside of the latest generation Apple iTab.

  ‘I’ll finish up in my office, then I really must go home.’ She checked her watch as she scurried towards the door then spun round to peer at Carlos. ‘You look as if you’re about to drop off. Not surprising, you keep it so dark in here. Shall I make more coffee? Might help.’

  Now she was insinuating he had to rely on her to keep him awake. But the thought of coffee was too tempting to pass up. ‘Well,’ he grunted, eyes locked on his monitor, ‘if you don’t mind…’

  ‘I’ll top up your water while I’m at it.’

  Carlos turned up Santana on his headphones. Of course, Corrinne’s smug manner and tireless energy got on his nerves but for some time now he’d realised her knack of irritating him was the symptom of a problem – not the cause. The truth was he was losing his grip and her slick efficiency riled him because it underscored his own shortcomings.

  He felt guilty for allowing their relationship to slip into its current unhealthy state of point scoring and bickering. It hadn’t always been like that. He and Corrinne were once a formidable team – but that was back in his early days at OOSA. Lately, however, he’d felt less and less fulfilled. He’d lost his motivation, his commitment and his drive, and the more useless he felt the more he knew he took it out on Corrinne.

  Moments later the heady aroma of freshly brewed Brazilian coffee filled his nostrils as she bustled back in.

  ‘Where shall I put this?’ she asked. Avoiding eye contact, Carlos waved his arm over at the sitting area.

  She set down the tray. ‘Now don’t forget that memo from Hans.’ She was referring to their new Network Security Manager who was insisting on tightening up procedures at UNO City where every employee and visitor had to carry a Radio Frequency Identification tag. Not only did tags register the whereabouts of the wearers within the building, they also communicated with sensors at the entrances to restricted zones.

  The tags also had another function: they helped prevent unauthorised personnel accessing employees’ computer terminal sessions, since each employee had to use his individual tag to log in and every session was automatically terminated if there was no activity for five minutes or if the tag went out of range. But people disliked going through the tedious process of logging in every time they were away from their terminals for a few minutes and defied regulations by taking off the tags and leaving them near their computers to ensure sessions were kept open until timed out. Corrinne knew Carlos sometimes did this too.

  ‘If you must use the men’s room, don’t leave your jacket on the chair with the tag clipped to it so you don’t get logged out,’ she scolded, once again treating him like a child. He barely managed to grunt in reply.

  ‘See you tomorrow then,’ she said. ‘Don’t work too hard.’ With that parting gibe she left.

  Carlos exhaled his irritation as she disappeared through the doorway. He got up to pour the coffee. Black, strong with a dash of milk was the way he liked it. When he had guests Corrinne would bring out the dainty little cups and saucers that he hated, but when he was on his own he drank out of his favourite big mug with the constellation of Virgo, his birth sign, on it.

  He settled on the sofa and looked at the wintry scene outside. That was why he kept the lights so low. He liked to keep his blinds open and set up his iTab on the table there, especially when he was alone at night, so he could look out at the view from his ninth floor window. He thought how beautiful the city was with the snow piled high on the streets and roofs, sparkling in the moonlight, although the punishing cold spell which was forecast to continue for a couple more weeks had taken its toll on him. He studied his reflection in the window and sighed at the sight of his receding hairline and the once chestnut streaks that now glinted silver. Exhausted eyes stared back at him, the creases round them permanently etched.

  When he’d moved to Vienna from the US just over four years before, he’d been in his prime. But now look at him. His shoulders drooped and his once steely six-packed abdomen sagged over his belt like a melted marshmallow. He looked like an old man. He wondered where his youth had gone. It had disappeared overnight, or so it seemed.

  He sank deeper into the cushions. It had been another long day. He took a sip of coffee, loosened his tie, undid the top button of his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair. How different things in Vienna were when Elena had been around. She’d made him eat healthily. She’d nagged at him to exercise. Her presence at the endless round of obligatory lunches, dinners and cocktail parties made them bearable. She’d lightened his burdens and celebrated his successes. When he was down, she’d made him laugh. He dropped his head in his hands. He couldn’t believe that just over three years before, the good life he’d taken so much for granted had come to an end.

  A loud beep dragged Carlos back to the present. It was an incoming instant message. He walked over to his computer terminal and sat down at the virtual keyboard that the laser, streaming from his monitor, beamed onto the desk.

  The message was from an old friend who worked at NASA. They’d met when they were students at the University of Southern California. Carlos clicked on the icon and Drew’s grinning face filled the screen.

  ‘Charlie boy!’

  ‘¡Amigo! This is a surprise. What’s up?’

  ‘I’m in Vienna. I got in from London a couple of days ago. Listen mate, want to meet up tonight? I know it’s short notice.’

  ‘Sí. Where are you staying?’

  ‘Hotel de France.’

  ‘I’ll pick you up after I finish work around eight. I’ll call when I’m on my way. We can go to my place for a drink then out for dinner. Italian, okay?’

  ‘Fucking brilliant.’

  Carlos cut the connection. Well that had come right out of the blue. He hadn’t seen his English friend Drew for years – not since Carlos left NASA and moved to Vienna.

  Spurred on by the call, he ploughed through what he needed to do. When he was finished, he tidied his papers, put his desk in scrupulous order like he did at the end of every working day and paid a visit to the gents, grabbing his jacket with the tag clipped to it – a grudging concession to Corrinne – off the back of his chair. As he hurried into the corridor he realised he’d forgotten to reserve a table for dinner and fished his iTab out of his trouser pocket. He tapped the shortcut key, but the line was engaged.

  Minutes later when he walked back into the office, the incoming message prompt was flashing on his terminal screen. In the sender box were the words “Galactic Federation”.

  Ga
lactic Federation! thought Carlos. What in Christ’s name was that? He opened the e-mail but there was no text in the body, just an audio file attachment, which he played.

  A voice boomed out of the speakers. It was deep and rich.

  ‘This is the President of the Galactic Federation making contact with Dr Carlos Maiz, Director of the United Nations Office for Outer Space Affairs. The Federation has information of momentous significance that we wish to present to you. We will contact you again shortly.’

  Carlos played the message a second time. It was like something out of a science fiction novel. He shook his head. It had to be a hoax. Someone who thought it was funny pretending to be an extraterrestrial. Or worse still, something more sinister.

  He really did not need this. Not right now.

  He contacted the Network Administrator on call, fired off an Unusual Network Incident Report and forwarded the message for investigation. Then, as there was nothing else to do but worry, he logged out and headed out to collect Drew.

  CHAPTER 2

  Explaining to the parking valet he was picking up a friend and would only be a moment, Carlos jumped out of his car and ran into the lobby of the Hotel de France.

  ‘Amigo. ¿Que pasa?’ he called out to the tall lean man talking to a pretty receptionist.

  The man looked round and grinned. In two strides he was towering over Carlos, enveloping him in a big bear hug and pounding him on his back. ‘Charlie boy! It’s so good to see you.’

  ***