The Zul Enigma (35 page)

‘Sit down, Carlos. It
won’t be as bad as you fear…’

‘And how about the
bodies of those who evolve in December?’

Astraea paused. ‘I think
you already know the answer to that question.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I think you understand
enough.’

Carlos shook his head.
‘No,’ he said, ‘I don’t.’ He raised his voice. ‘That’s why I’m asking
you
,’
and he jabbed his finger at her.

She stood up and ran her
hands through her hair, making the light dance on the golden tendrils down to
its tips. She stared at Carlos and sat back down, hands clasped in her lap,
re-entering her former hypnotic-type state.

‘Because entities in the
fourth density no longer have physical bodies, they will…’

‘They will what,
Astraea?’

‘Because the physical
bodies are focused in third density, they will…’ her voice faded to a whisper.

‘They will what?’ he
pushed, and when she didn’t reply he answered for her. ‘You don’t want to say
it, hey? Well let me say it for you. The bodies will be left behind, heaped up
all over the new planet. That’s what your trying to tell me, isn’t it?’ he
yelled.

She didn’t reply.

‘It’s horrible! It’s
inhuman!’

‘Carlos,’ she said softly,
‘it’s the way. It’s the evolutionary process. You can’t change it.’

‘But how about all the
people left behind? Imagine their grief, their loss, their suffering? It’s too
cruel,’ he roared.

‘Wouldn’t it be worse if
they had no physical remains to celebrate?’

‘Celebrate? You really
think they’ll want to celebrate? They’ll be in mourning for Christ’s sake.
They’ll be in shock.’

‘That will depend on
what you’ve told them.’

Carlos looked at her
face, so innocent, so beautiful. He couldn’t believe such ugliness could come
out of her mouth.

He leapt to his feet,
hurling his arms in the air. ‘I don’t believe any of this shit. Zul and you
– you say you’re enlightened and selfless – but what you’re
planning? It isn’t based on love and unity. It’s barbaric. You’re talking about
the decimation of the entire population of a planet.’

Astraea also stood. ‘No
Carlos. Not decimation, salvation,’ her face radiant in its earnestness.

‘
Estás loca
,’ he
yelled twisting his fingers at his head. ‘You and Zul? You’re unbelievable. Get
out of here.’

‘It’s natural for you to
find the process shocking. And you should think very, very carefully about
sharing it with the other humans.’

‘Now you’re telling me
to lie?’

‘No!’ she replied,
indignant, ‘I’m not telling you to lie and I’m not telling you what you should
or should not do. I’m suggesting you think it through carefully first. When you
announce this to the world, the last thing you want is for people to panic.’

‘I’ve heard your
so-called “process” explained by Zul and now by you, and
I’m
panicking
right now.’

‘Exactly! Your reaction
proves the point.’

He paced up and down.
‘Why should I believe you? Hey? How do I know you’re telling the truth?’

‘Believe, Carlos,
believe in Zul. If you don’t, your planet will destroy itself,’ she implored.

‘I’ve only got your word
for that. Perhaps it’s better I do ignore you and let the Earth and everyone on
it do whatever they want with no interference from me.’

‘Do you really believe
that’s right?’

‘If you’re wrong, it
is.’

‘But we’re not wrong.
And you know it. You’ve been worrying about the Earth’s future for years.
Before we contacted you, you already knew something terrible was happening. You
can’t turn your back while your planet destroys itself, knowing the force of it
disintegrating will destabilise the whole galaxy – perhaps even cause the
whole cycle to start again.’

‘If you’re right, at
least we’ll all go together! Perhaps
that’s
our “karma”.’

‘But you have the free
will to make a better “karma”, to help your galaxy so that it
will
evolve.’

‘Say I do. And that what
you say is true. How will life continue, exactly, for those who don’t evolve?’

‘Sit down and I’ll tell
you,’ Astraea held her arm towards Carlos’s chair.

‘The new beginning will
be an incredible opportunity for you humans. Recovery will force you to unite,
just like New Yorkers did after the September 11th disaster. At that time
people found a new, shared identity that transcended race or religion. It will
be the same for you, except it will be on a global scale. Every human left will
have been touched. Everyone will join together to mourn the passing of their
brothers and sisters and to celebrate the lives they lived and their successful
evolution to fourth density: Africans with Caucasians, Asians with Arabs,
Christians with Taoists, Moslems with Hindus and Buddhists with Jews, the rich
and the poor. Everyone will be equal in their grief.

‘All the humans left
will have experienced the truth of the evolutionary process for themselves.
They will realise the need to readjust their base values, to raise their levels
of selflessness. They will realise that every strata of human life must
integrate in order to survive, to recover, to progress. They will realise they
can all work together to hand down a brand new tradition to future generations
so that when the time comes for the next evolutionary leap, no one will be
excepted.

‘And with fewer humans
on the planet your resources will be plentiful and more easily managed. With
good governance, the horrendous gap between the extraordinarily rich and the
pitifully poor will be reduced. There will be no more need for poverty and
starvation and fear. There will be more than enough for all.’

While Carlos found it
horrific imagining the pain and suffering of all the people left behind, he had
to admit Astraea had a point. After the initial appalling shock, in a cruelly
twisted way of course, it
would
be advantageous to have a reduced
population. Currently there were way too many people on the planet –
Carlos had been saying it for years. This way they could start over. And do it
right.

Astraea smoothed her
hair with her hands and tucked it back behind her ears.

‘Many gaps will be left
in the hierarchy of different nationalities, societies, religions, industries
and other groups. It will be a time for strong leaders, like you Carlos, to
step forward and unite people. There’ll be much work to do but it could be the
epoch during which the true Global Village will be born.’

Many thoughts flooded
Carlos’s head. Ideas how the new planet could function better in the future and
he wondered if perhaps something beautiful could come out this evolutionary
process after all.

Then he stopped in
mid-thought. Clever bitch! Not only was she so beautiful he could hardly think
straight, but she was using arguments she knew he wanted to hear. As his own
invention it was no wonder she could manipulate him so well.

 
‘You expect me to believe all this? I
tell you, you and Zul are in my head,’ he said, tapping his brow with his index
finger.

‘Don’t forget where your
planet’s heading, Carlos,’ Astraea persisted. ‘There are only two
possibilities: destruction or evolution. A third failure to evolve from third
to fourth density is unprecedented – we don’t even know the extent the
effect may have.

‘The faster you get to
work the better chance your planet, your whole galaxy, has to evolve. The part
you can play is crucial, both now and on the new Earth. You will have help from
other entities on the new planet too.’

‘Help? How will they
help? What will they do, hey? Pass on some universal “truth” like the
importance of the shape of a pyramid?’ he shouted.

‘Carlos, you’re becoming
hysterical.’

He thumped both fists on
the table so hard it made the water jug and glasses jump. ‘I don’t believe in
any of this shit. I don’t believe in you and…’ he thumped his fists again and
again as he screamed each syllable, ‘… I DON’T BELIEVE IN ZUL.’ He sprang up
gripping his head but his legs buckled underneath him and he fell face first
onto the table.

Astraea gasped, hands
covering her mouth. ‘What is it, Carlos? What’s the matter?’

He struggled to stand
up, lurching onto his feet, his face drained of colour. Then his legs gave way
again and he staggered backwards, collapsing onto his chair, upturning it.

‘Carlos, what’s wrong?’
she cried, stretching her arm towards him.

He scrabbled onto all
fours and reaching up his hands one at a time grabbed the edge of the table to
lever himself up to kneeling. He looked like a ghoul emerging from a grave. He
stared up at Astraea’s image, his face distorted with horror.

‘Carlos,’ she shouted,
‘what
is
it?’

His mouth opened but no
words came out. He pushed himself up onto one foot then the other, swayed in
front of her and, without taking his eyes off her face, shuffled backwards one
unsteady step at a time fighting to find his voice.

‘Get out of here,’ he
rasped. ‘Get OUT of here. Stop messing with my head.’

‘Carlos! What’s wrong,’
Astraea implored.

Then his eyes glazed
over and he stumbled backwards somersaulting over an armchair and smacking his
head against the window with a thud.

CHAPTER 21

The women chatted in Corrinne’s office as they ate the cakes. When Erika
excused herself to visit the ladies, Corrinne went to check on Carlos. He
didn’t reply to her knock so she opened the door and peered in. At first she
couldn’t see him anywhere but as she walked further into the room she spotted
him crumpled on the floor, the side of his face pressed against the bottom of
the picture window.

‘Carlos?’ she called.

When he didn’t move she
called out louder. ‘Carlos!’ Running forward she knelt over him and put her
cheek to his mouth to check for breath. She loosened his clothing, moved him
into the recovery position and ran into the kitchenette between their offices
to fill a bowl with water and grab a towel. Panting she rushed back and knelt
over him. With trembling fingers she took his wrist to check his pulse. It was
beating fast. Way too fast.

After dunking the towel
in water she wiped his face, paying special attention to the corner of his
mouth where spittle had dribbled down his chin. She rinsed the towel again,
folded it and pressed it alternately against the lump on his head and at the
nape of his neck.

He moaned and lolled
onto his back opening his eyes and with a lurch got on his side again, fumbled
onto his hands and knees and tried to stand. He swayed on his feet like a drunk
and it was a hard job for Corrinne to support him as they staggered from side
to side, but with brute force and determination she steered him behind the
upturned armchair and got him at an angle where she could let him slide onto
the couch.

He mumbled non-stop,
shouting out now and again, but none of it was intelligible. He waved his arms
and it was clear he wanted to stand but his motor skills had deserted him and
he flopped around, agitated and restless, his breathing ragged, until he passed
out.

‘I must get help,’
Corrinne muttered, and she headed back to her office, scolding herself for
having left him on his own for so long.

Corrinne had told Erika to get the UN doctor up while she called the
Secretary-General and they all stood murmuring in a worried huddle.

‘His
blood pressure’s low, his pulse rate is high and he’s experiencing some
respiratory distress. He’s showing signs of extreme intoxication but there’s no
smell of alcohol on his breath. Then there’s the head injury. He obviously
stumbled over the chair and hit his head on the window when he fell. The impact
resulted in a subcutaneous haematoma on his temple. He’s clearly disorientated
and dissociated, which could be the reason he collapsed or the result of
concussion. We need an ambulance to take him to AKH.’

‘AKH?’

‘Vienna General
Hospital.’

‘Just a minute, sir,’
Erika interrupted, ‘it’s Sunday. It’ll be quicker by car.’ She turned to the
doctor. ‘Does he
really
need an ambulance? I mean, does he need to be on
oxygen or have to be restrained?’

‘His breathing’s
laboured but it’s good enough. And I’ve got a portable oxygen bottle. His motor
skills are challenged so he won’t need restraining, at least not for the
moment.’

Greg considered Erika’s
suggestion. An ambulance would cause a fuss but by using her car they might be
lucky enough to get Carlos out of his office, out of UNO City and into hospital
before the American secret service people downstairs realised what was going
on.

‘You’re right,’ he said,
‘it’ll be faster by car. And even better if we can get him out unnoticed. Where
are you parked?’

‘Level minus two.’

‘Hm, that means using
the escalator to reception…’