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Authors: J M Leitch

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BOOK: The Zul Enigma
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‘Bollocks! It can’t be
that bad,’ Drew raised an eyebrow. ‘This admin assistant, what’s she like?’

Carlos looked up
horrified. ‘If you’d met her you wouldn’t ask. So,’ he said, changing the
subject, ‘you’re here for how long?’

‘Aunt Hetty’s funeral’s
Saturday. I have to be in England for that. Then I head back to Maryland.’

‘What brings you to
Vienna?’

‘Erika… and…’

‘Who’s Erika?’

‘Erika! Erika Stone. I
went out with her back in the old days at Goddard.’

Carlos shook his head,
‘It’s too long ago,’ he sighed, ‘and there were so many…’

‘Come on, you know
Erika. Short. White blonde hair. Blue eyes. Very pretty. After we broke up we
still knocked about together. She got married, had two kids, got divorced. She
moved to Vienna a couple of months ago.’

‘Okay, I remember.’

‘And Sophie.’

‘Jesus Christ, who’s
Sophie?’

‘A young lady I met
skiing,’ Drew said grinning. ‘Lives in Vienna. I’ve been here to visit her a
few times, but you’re never around.’

‘Tell me about it,’
Carlos said rolling his eyes. ‘I’m always on the road.’

Luigi reappeared, picked up the wine basket and poured a splash of Chianti into
Carlos’s glass. He took a sip. The robust fruity flavour flooded his taste
buds. ‘Excellent,’ he said.

Luigi poured wine for
Drew and topped up Carlos’s glass. ‘
Signori
, please enjoy,’ he said with
a bow.


¡Salud!
’ They
both took a slug. For that one split second, Carlos thought, it seemed just
like the old days.

‘Mmm, that’s good,’ said
Drew, and he took another gulp.

By the time they started
their first course, Luigi had opened a second bottle.

‘Delicious,’ said Drew,
resting his knife and fork on the empty plate.

‘How do you know? You
ate it so quick!’

‘Boarding school’s got a
lot to answer for. So, how are your mum and dad?’

‘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,

? 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 cologne, 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.’

BOOK: The Zul Enigma
8.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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