The Cocoon Trilogy
Page 7
Below decks the scene was glum. A preliminary inspection of these cocoons showed the same problem. There was corrosion and condensation present. After the discovery of water damage in the first cocoon, they had sent their probe ship back to the mother ship, parked on the far side of the Moon. It had returned that night with special power supplies and regulators as well as a high-frequency drying unit. The new equipment made little difference. They had opened all ten of the cocoons that first night and revived them before dawn. When they were done the soldiers had been removed to another room on the upper floors to undergo intensive drying.
Both commanders agreed that the removal operation should continue, but instead of removing layers of cocoons from the top of the storage area, they would penetrate the stack vertically in order to reach those cocoons stored deepest and farthest away from the water. Today’s batch was from the bottom of the sealed chamber, yet still they were damaged.
We will need nutrition from mother ship tonight, Bald White telepathed to his comrades.
“Yes,” they all agreed.
“I have already arranged the beaming,” Amos volunteered.
Silence again. Each had closed down externals and was searching deep inside for answers. The mind was but an arrangement of atoms. With proper training and centuries of practical discipline, the Antarean beings could plunge themselves inward and reach the nucleus wherein lay all accumulated knowledge of their species. The energy controlled within the cabin of Jack Fischer’s boat was immense, and now it was being directed down into the depths of the souls of these strange visitors to Earth. They knew they up against a very serious problem. If they could not solve it, then their mission would end in failure and the Antarean reputation as space travelers and traders could be tarnished for millennia to come.
Oblivious to the galaxy-shaking problems below, Jack eased the Manta III down the canal and headed into the Antares dock. Terra Time was already docked and deserted. Its crew was smaller than that of the Manta III and was made up only of Antareans. There were three young men who resembled Hal and Harry and a woman who seemed to be in charge. Jack suspected that she was a commander with a female disguise. He wondered if she was bald under a beautiful wig of blond hair that imagined she wore. He thought back three nights ago when he had docked before the Terra Time. She had been on the flying bridge. Jack had casually sauntered over to the boat to say hello. The three boys had replied to his greeting, but the female only looked at him and then went about her business. Jack had a specific thought in mind as he bent down to tie his sneaker while she climbed down the ladder from the bridge. I want to have a look under that dress, he thought. I want to see now much detail they gave you, my alien beauty.
He still wasn’t clear about telepathy and mind reading, and, of course, she knew exactly what was on his mind. Halfway down the ladder she stopped and stretched a leg for Jack over the outrigger bracket. He had a clear view under her skirt, but he was not prepared for what he saw.
Staring at him, where the flower of her femininity should be, was a duplicate of her pretty face and blond hair. The face was smiling and the lips were pursed. It blew him a kiss. He looked away quickly while adrenaline surged through his body and enveloped his groin.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN – COMPLICATIONS OF LOVE
At dusk, the Antareans completed the off-loading of the day’s cocoons harvest and prepared for processing. Jack showered and dressed for his night off. He always kept a clean change of clothes on board the Manta III, but made a mental note to pack a bag for the weeks ahead.
Building A of the complex was alive with Friday night activity. There were sixty couples living in the building ranging in age from mid-fifties to late seventies. On Friday nights they gathered in the recreation room for dancing and socializing. Usually at least thirty couples attended. Joe Finley brought his record player and collection of band music from the thirties and forties.
As people gathered, cliques formed. Tonight the Greens, Lewis’s, Perlman’s, and Finley’s were joined by two other couples they had casually befriended. They were Paul and Marie Amato and Frank and Andrea Hankinson. The Amato’s were from Boston. He was a retired stockbroker. The Hankinson’s were from St. Louis. Frank Hankinson was semi-retired but still spent half the year in St. Louis tending to Frank’s interest in a radio station. They were referred to as “snowbirds” because they only spent the late fall and winter months in Florida.
“Great job you guys did on the pool.” Paul Amato said. Ben Green told him they were only getting what they paid for and had a right to expect. The discussion then drifted to the fact that Building B was still unfinished.
“You would think that they would want to get it completed and the condos sold as soon as possible,” Bernie Lewis remarked.
They all agreed. Then Joe Finley asked Alma to dance. They were joined by the Hankinson’s. Several couples were on the floor. They danced a fox trot to a Frank Sinatra song. As the couples swayed slowly to the music, the scene could have been a ballroom out of the 1940’s. These couples, for the most part, had spent their lives together. They knew what love and companionship were, and although a youth oriented society had subtly pushed them to the Florida peninsula, they were content and at peace with each other. The active and hectic days of fighting for a living, keeping up with the Joneses, and rearing children had passed. The music, like their current lives, was warm and slow. Ben Green, Art Perlman and Bernie Lewis sat observing the scene in silence. Their wives had gone to the kitchen to help with the coffee and cake.
“Look at us, Art,” Ben said as he gestured to the room of slow-dancers. “It’s not right to farm us out this way.” Ben spoke in a sad and soft voice. It was a theme that Ben had brought up several times lately.
Art nodded. “True, my friend, but what are you going to do? It’s the way of our society. They say the old, uh, I mean isn’t “seniors,” the term? We’ve had our time, they say. Everything now is young-young-young ...” His voice trailed off.
“Bullshit!” Ben snapped back. “The truth is it really felt good when we were pushing that bastard Shields to fill the pool.”
“Yeah.” Art nodded and smiled. “That was fun. Got my blood up.”
Ben moved closer. “I was thinking that we might speak to Shields about the mess over at Building B. I think we have a right to know when it will be finished.”
“Good idea.” Art agreed. “He won’t be around over the weekend, but we can see him on Monday morning before the card game.”
“Okay. But let’s keep Joe Finley away just in case we need our Mr. Bonser from the Attorney General’s office again.”
Bernie, who had just been listening, nodded his agreement.
Sinatra’s “Wee Small Hours” ended…”That’s the time I miss you most of all…” The couples returned to their tables. Ben and Art huddled with Joe and told him their plan. Joe loved the idea. Bernie Lewis spoke up. “I think we ought to have a look over there tomorrow. We can get a better idea of how much work is left to do and we’ll be able to confront Shields with some facts.” The four men agreed and promised to meet at seven the next morning to have a look at Building B.
Amos Bright watched the lights go out in the recreation room of Building A. He turned to Jack Fischer. “They are going to bed. You can leave in twenty minutes. Let’s be sure we understand each other.”
Jack was prepared for the lecture. “We do, Mr. Bright, I promised to be back tomorrow morning before sunrise, and I’ll be here. Judy won’t know anything about this place.” Bright went on anyway.
“And you’ll tell her that you have a treasure-diving charter for the next few months. Make sure she knows you’ll be gone for a week at a time. I don’t want her to be suspicious, and I certainly don’t want her coming here looking for you.”
Jack resented being treated like a child. Surely Amos knew that he was sincere. All he had to do was read Jack’s mind.
“Harry has brought your car over from your dock. It’s parked in back. The ke
ys are in the sun visor, and the tank is filled. Have a nice time. I will see you in the morning.” Amos got up and walked to the door of Jack’s room.
“Thanks,” said Jack. There was no sarcasm in his voice this time. He knew the seriousness of the Antarean’s problem with the cocoons. “I hope you can lick the moisture problem,” he said.
Amos stopped. “Thank you, Jack. I’m not sure we can, but we have to continue trying every way we know. I appreciate your concern.” He left the door open.
Ten minutes later Jack was driving out of the Antares condo complex. He drove to U.S. Route 1 and then three miles south to his apartment near the Kenwood Shopping Center. The garden apartments were set back from the street. Jack pulled into his parking space. The lights were on in his apartment and his heart skipped a beat as he pictured Judy waiting there for him. He realized that he felt very deeply about her. Easy, he thought as he took the stairs two at a time. That’s a marrying type of lady up there, and you are not a marrying type of guy right now.
Judy was dressed to kill. She had the stereo playing a Judy Collins album. A bottle of Chardonnay was in the ice bucket. Two joints were neatly rolled. A plate of stone crabs with cold mustard sauce set between two scented candles completed the table arrangement. As Jack closed the door, she came toward him quickly. Her satin jumper clung to her body and shimmered in the candlelight. Before Jack could say anything she was on him and her arms were around his neck and her body was tight against him. She kissed him hard and long and wet, drawing his breath into her lungs.
“Welcome home, sailor. Welcome home from the sea.” She led him to the sofa. “Sit,” she ordered. She filled two chilled wine glasses and then lit one of the joints. He watched, mesmerized by her movements and the care he was receiving.
A few drags and a few sips later and Jack completely forgot the world of cocoons. Judy did not speak again until they had finished their lovemaking. He knew they would not sleep that night. He felt the desire rising in him again. Judy brought the plate of crabs and the sauce to the sofa. They ate and sipped the wine. Everything was delicious, but paled at the sight of his beautiful girl beside him.
“Now, lover, how was that?” Judy asked.
“I feel like I just died and went to heaven. You are something else, super lady.”
“Well, you sounded like you were going to have a long, hard week. We’ve never been away from each other for this long. I really missed you. Really.”
“And I missed you.” A lot.” Jack decided that he’d better get the bad news over with quickly. “I’m afraid we’re gonna be…well, away from one another for a while.” Judy watched him, expressionless. “It’s gonna be a long charter. But, this could just about pay off the boat. Free and clear. I had to take it. You understand, huh?”
“Understand what?” she asked softly.
“Well”—he sipped the wine—”these folks are treasure hunters. I can’t really talk about it, but ... well ... they are on to something and I agreed to work with them for the next few months.”
“Oh, shit, Jack.” Judy was immediately furious. Her eyes widened. Her jaw tightened as she clenched her teeth.
“Honey, look…it’s over a thousand a week plus expenses. They might even cut me in on the booty. I had to take it!”
Then she was crying - not hysterically, just softly. “Jack. Your being away this week ... it made me realize how deeply I feel about you. I think I’ve fallen in love with you ... and now ... away for two months ... it hurts. IT really hurts.”
Jack felt suddenly smothered. Christ! The last thing he needed now was a demanding woman. The months ahead had to be filled with his new space buddies. He had promised. What if he told her that he couldn’t spend the time with her because he had to work with creatures from another planet? That would go over big. Yet, he felt for her. He decided to ask Amos Bright whether he could bring her to the Antares complex. But right now he would have to deal with her present sorrow or he might lose her forever. He reached and slipped off her robe. She didn’t resist. Then he bent and kissed her breast, and her neck, and her mouth, and her eyes, and on and on, until they were joined again as one.
It was after midnight. The tenants of Building A were asleep. All except Alma Finley who sat alone in the kitchen and sipped tea. Her thoughts were of Joe sleeping in the bedroom. There had been a definite change in him during the past few weeks. She noticed that he was walking slower and going to bed earlier. He was tired. The doctor said that this might happen from time to time. But this time it was prolonged. He wasn’t responding to the medication. Could this be the beginning of the end? Did she have the strength to face living without Joe? Did she want to?
Alma stood up and walked out onto the terrace. It was a mild night. The air was cool. The sky above was filled with stars. As she glanced to the south her eye was stopped by a faint red line that seemed to come from the sky and pass directly onto the roof of Building B. She blinked because she thought she was seeing things. When she looked again it was gone. Then it was there again. It looks like a laser beam, she thought. Maybe it’s coming from the top of the building like a beacon. Yes, that was it. An airplane beacon. There was probably one on top of Building A, too. Her thoughts returned to Joe.
The three commanders, Amos, the copper men, and the five crewmen were seated in a circle on the roof of Building B. In the center of the group was a glass, bowl shaped object. Inside the bowl was a cluster of red glowing rocks. Each of the aliens had glasslike rods extending from their eyes into the bowl. Their human faces were off. As the red beam from the mother ship struck the bowl, the rocks glowed, and then the glow traveled up the rods into the eyes of the Antareans. The feeding lasted for thirty minutes. The crew sat in silence and ecstasy as they fed.
There was a large unfinished room on the roof. It was to be the solarium when Building B was completed. Now it was occupied with fifty Antarean soldiers sitting in neat rows of ten. They were still and showed no sign of life except the glow in their wraparound eyes. In each row nine of the beings were dressed in pale blue, skintight jumpsuits. The tenth was a copper man. Each of the copper men had a device attached to his head that protruded in front of his eyes. A red beam inside the device was split three ways. Two of the beams went into the eyes of the copper men. The third beam came out of the device and passed down the row to the eyes of the other nine soldiers. The faces of the soldiers were splotchy. The stains were dark brown, as though their faces had been made of pine and the stains were knots. The first two soldiers in the first row were stained the worst. Suddenly the beam feeding the first soldier cut off abruptly in front of him. He twitched and emitted a deep humming sound. His eyes glowed bright for a moment and then went dark.
Outside, on the roof, Commander All Light stopped feeding. He looked toward the room that housed the soldiers and then telepathed for the others to stop feeding. We have lost the expendable. The second will go soon. I fear we will fail.
Amos grew a bit, and silently blessed the departed soldier with the old thoughts: Serve the Master as you did your own. You have taken your reward. Guide us if you can as you move among the stars. We love you.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN – THE SECRET IN BUILDING B
By the time Ben, Art, Bernie and Joe entered Building B, the Antareans had left for the Gulf Stream aboard Manta III and Terra Time. The first thing the intruders noticed was the air conditioning.
“A/C. That’s weird,” Ben Green said.
“Maybe they’re just testing the unit,” Bernie suggested. The others agreed.
“Where shall we start?” Art asked.
Joe Finley suggested they walk up to the second floor and then work their way higher until they were satisfied they knew enough. He was tired this morning and hoped they would be satisfied with just a few floors.
“Okay,” Ben said. “Here’s a stairwell. Let’s go.”
Ben Green led the way from floor to floor. When they came to a new landing they would split up. Ben and Bernie would go to the south wi
ng of the floor, and Art and Joe would go to the north side. If their search turned up nothing, they would head back to the stairwell. If either team was not back, the other would wait five minutes and then look for the missing team.
At ten-thirty they were on the sixth floor. They had found nothing. Joe Finley was very tired and suggested that it was to no avail to search any farther. Ben Green disagreed but then quickly understood when Art Perlman flashed him a knowing look.
“Okay,” Ben said. “Let’s head down. But I want to have a look at those locked doors we found on the second floor. I’m sure I heard sound coming from behind the orange one.”
They walked down to the second floor and went directly to the orange door. Ben put his ear against the door. “I hear a humming noise. How about it, Joe?”
Joe put his ear to the door. “I think you’re right. Sounds like some kind of machine.” Art and Bernie listened and agreed.
Ben tried the doorknob, but he couldn’t budge it. “I’m going to get this door open,” Ben said, “one way or the other.”
“You mean break in?” Art asked.
“I said one way or the other didn’t I?”
Bernie and Joe looked at each other. “That could mean trouble, Ben, you know, breaking and entering,” Bernie suggested.
Ben laughed. “I told you guys last night that I was bored with this “senior’s” thing, right? So I spend a few days in the clink. It’s better than sitting around and vegetating. Besides, we own this place, don’t we? How can you get in trouble for opening a door on your own property?”