The Cocoon Trilogy

by David Saperstein

  The Defense Secretary leaned back in his chair. “Now tell me more about these two commanders you’ve befriended, Green and Lewis.”

  Margolin talked innocently about them, explaining that they were the leaders and had developed certain abilities beyond the other Brigade members. He talked a little about their adventures on Parma Quad 2 and gave the Defense Secretary a brief explanation on how the Parman guides were used for deep-space travel. He knew that kind of talk would tweak Mersky’s curiosity to know more. That way, Margolin assured himself, he would be asked to continue his spying assignment. But he told Mersky nothing of the commanders’ plans. That was the last thing Gideon Mersky should know now that it he intended to hold the Brigade visitors on Earth by force.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX – A MESSAGE TO THE GALAXY

  The President arrived in Houston ostensibly to review the progress of the NASA Office of Exploration, a position created to put men and women in space. Some time after the Challenger accident some in the government complained that we were no longer pursuing the dream of exploring space, but rather running a transportation and hardware hauling business. President Teller took that realization one step further in his first inaugural address when he stated, “The time has come for all of us on this planet to get up off our tails and dream again to walk among the stars.” Prophetically, that was only a month after the Geriatric Brigade had left Earth and begun their journey to Parma Quad 2.

  The meetings at the Johnson Space Center had minimal press coverage. The President then went on a private tour of the sprawling NASA facility with his last stop being the newly renovated Space Medicine Center Hospital.

  His arrival coincided with another birth. A son was born to parents who originally lived in New York City and were old friends of Ben and Mary Green. President Teller was delighted to personally witness the birth from an observation room outside the Beta delivery suite. Chief obstetrician, Dr. Fogelnest, delivered the baby easily. Dr. Khawaja was with the President observing.

  “The births are consistently the easiest we have ever witnessed. They all leave their womb in a similar manner. There is very little labor and the infants emerge at the correct angle and position. One of our doctors maintains they come with their arms extended as though they were asking to be held.”

  While the President visited with the Brigade parents, and parents-to-be, Margolin and Sanchez met with the commanders who were in residence at the hospital. The Finley’s were still on site with Amos Bright transferring the cocoons to the Watership’ storage tank. Margolin reported on his meeting with Mersky. He had researched Colonel Smith’s special RDU.

  “It’s an elite group - highly trained. Colonel Smith was combat hardened in Viet Nam and quite experienced. And I’m certain the President has no knowledge of their plans.”

  “If we assume President Teller knows the plan,” Art Perlman suggested, “we can use his ignorance to our advantage. Let him be truly surprised when Mersky makes his move.”

  “If Mersky makes his move,” Ruth Charnofsky said. “I think it best to make our plans to leave before it comes to a confrontation.”

  Ben Green agreed with a reservation. “I agree. But we we’ll need help to reach the Watership.”

  “And to a Mothership to transport all of us, the babies and the two storage tanks we left on the moon. Don’t forget the Watership will have a fully loaded storage tank transporting the cocooned army back to Antares.

  “To play it safe,” Bernie Lewis interjected, “I think I’d better contact Amos and have that Mothership leave Antares as soon as possible.” They all agreed and telepathed their concerns to the Antarean leader.

  “We have to present our plan for the Watership’s departure to the President in an hour,” Alicia Sanchez said. She had filled the commanders in on how they proposed to have the Antarean craft depart Earth. “But,” she continued, “I think that Phil and I should begin to develop a plan for your own departure as well.”

  “We assume you will need special arrangements for the children,” Margolin suggested. For a moment the commanders linked their thoughts, blocking all others.

  “We will need to discuss that with Beam and the off-planet parents,” Bernie Lewis answered, “but for now we must assume everyone here in Houston, other than Alicia and Phil, are involved in Mersky’s plan to hold us against our will. Our plans must be kept secret.”

  “Do we have a departure date we can aim at?” Margolin asked.

  Betty Franklin, Bess’s sister who had been assigned the task of liaison with the still expectant mothers, spoke up. “As best we can determine it will be two months and three weeks. Let’s say mid-October to be safe. Mary will be the last according to Dr. Yee’s new schedule.”

  “Of course we can’t be certain about the mixed babies yet,” Ruth chimed in. On Subax a pregnancy might last as long as a year, depending on the time of conception and weather conditions.

  The newborn boy was transferred to pediatric intensive care as standard procedure. The initial tests and examinations showed another perfectly formed, healthy and extremely alert baby. The President, accompanied by Margo McNeil and Benton Fuller, visited the transitional nursery near the intensive care unit. There were six infants in there. The procedure was to move them down to the second floor after five days. As soon as the President arrived at the nursery, the babies awoke and became very active. Down on the second floor, in the main nursery, the older infants stopped their activity and suddenly became quiet and still. It gave the chief pediatric nurse quite a scare. She immediately called for an emergency unit, but when they arrived they could find nothing wrong. All of the babies, nine of them, lay in their bassinets on their backs, eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. Their breathing was normal.

  Back at the commander’s meeting Alicia Sanchez suddenly stood up. She covered her ears with her hands, her face contorted in pain. Phillip Margolin’s body stiffened, his feet shoot out under the table.

  “Jesus!” he gasped.

  “What’s wrong?” Ben Green asked. He reached into their minds but he was blocked.

  “The children,” Alicia said, “they want us to come to them . . . now.” She relaxed, as did Margolin. Everyone stood up.

  “No,” Phillip said, “they only want us.”

  President Teller stood among the bassinets in the transitional nursery admiring the calm but alert babies. Yet he was uneasy. He watched Margo McNeil as she held one of the infants who had been handed to her by the chief nurse. That baby, in fact all the babies, were staring at him.

  Sanchez and Margolin entered the nursery. All the babies turned their attention toward the couple. The baby being held began to squirm, and Margo had to give her back to the nurse who put her back in her bassinet.

  “Hello, Mr. President,” Margolin said.

  “Ah…the two geniuses from DOD. How are you?”

  “Very good, sir,” Sanchez answered.

  “Quite a bunch we have here. They seem so healthy.”

  “They are, Mr. President,” Margolin answered. Then he heard the voice. So did Sanchez. They spoke rapidly, alternating with each new thought. Alicia spoke first.

  “These are the children of the new race.”

  “These are the children of off-planet human-mankind.”

  “These are the children who will teach many.”

  “These are the children who must be protected.”

  “These are the children who will serve all races.”

  “These are the children who will lead you to peace.”

  “These are the children of the beginning.”

  Alma Finley heard the voices deep beneath the ocean as she swam outside the Watership’s flight bridge. She was transporting the cocoon of an Antarean commander at the time, guiding it toward its berth within the Watership’s storage container. She swam past the green translucent bubble that housed the Parman guides. They were sealed inside, replenishing themselves with chlorine. They transformed the gas into an absorbable crystalline form
. At first she thought the voice was coming from the Parmans. Then she realized it was coming from the cocoon she carried. It was pulsating with a reddish light from within. Amos swam up next to her.

  “Do you hear it?” he telepathed.

  “What is it?”

  “The children. They are calling to us. They are announcing their arrival in the galaxy. Today the fifteenth baby was born. Their power increases geometrically as more join them.”

  “This sleeping commander also hears them,” she thought as she touched the glowing cocoon.

  “Yes. I think it is possible that the entire galaxy hears them. Commander Lewis is correct. I will send for the Mothership immediately.”

  Phillip Margolin brought the President back to their work area on the first floor. The shock of what had happened in the nursery remained with everyone, but they had not discussed it yet. Sanchez prepared the preliminary presentation for the Watership’s departure, but the President told her not to bother.

  “Secretary Mersky filled me in on everything. It sounds fine to me. You coordinate with him.” The work area was one large central room with four computer terminals, TV monitors, two laser printers, a FAX machine and a teletype link to the Pentagon Communication Center. Maps and charts, mainly of the mid-Atlantic Ridge, a chain of huge underwater mountains that stretched from Greenland down past both North and South America to the Antarctic, were prominent. Two smaller rooms off the main room were used as offices. LoCasio and Berlin, the two assistants who worked with Margolin and Sanchez, occupied those offices now. President Teller indicated for Benton Fuller to close the doors to the offices.

  “What happened up there?” he then asked.

  “I’m not sure, sir,” Sanchez answered.

  “Those things you said about the babies. Who told you?”

  “Again, we’re not sure, Mr. President,” Margolin said.

  “When I first met Alma Finley, she was able to . . . well, sort of hear what I was thinking. Afterward I talked to Caleb Harris and he told me that these commanders can put thoughts into your head too.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that, sir,” Alicia lied.

  “Well,” he continued, “whose voice did you hear telling you to say those things?”

  “We don’t know,” Margolin said quietly. “Perhaps it was the commanders.” The President was disturbed. He had a sense that things were getting past him; that he had somehow been duped by the commanders and that he was being used.

  “It sounded to me like someone was warning me about something.”

  “Did it sound that way?” Alicia asked, “Or did you feel it inside?” President Teller didn’t answer. But Alicia knew the question gave the President pause to wonder exactly what had happened. He didn’t like it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN – THE OLD GREEK

  Bad weather and the pollution problem had slowed them down, but in four weeks they had completed moving half the cocoons to the Watership. Another storm system was moving into the area and they had to stop work for four days. The Orca put into the port of Miami for supplies and fuel. None of the crew or the Seal team left the vessel for security reasons. Jack Fischer brought the Manta III, with the Probeship attached to its hull, to his dock at Boca Raton as he had every night since the operation began. He stopped at the fuel barge to fill his gas tanks. Nick, the old Greek at the gas barge watched Jack and Phil Doyle carefully. They had come and gone each day, but without the submarine because the Probeship had remained at sea next to the Stones. But as he pumped the gas, he noticed the Manta III had the submarine attached to it again.

  “You for to use gasoline in that boat too?” he asked, pointing with his bent cigar to the waterline of the Manta III.

  “Yes. I use gasoline in this boat,” thinking he meant the Manta III.

  “You want me to fill up?”

  “Yes, Nick. Like always. Both tanks.” Jack went back to his conversation with Phil Doyle.

  “Where is gas cap?”

  “You already have the caps off.”

  “Not these, Captain Jack. I for to mean the cap for your submarine under the boat. I need to know how to put gas.” Jack and Phil understood immediately that the old man had seen the Probeship. Jack made light of it.

  “Submarine? That’s not a submarine. It a, uh, special fishing thing . . . a sonar . . . like a fish finder.”

  “It’s a big one, huh?”

  “Big finder for big fish.” Jack laughed. Phil laughed. The old man turned away to get the gas hose from the pump. Okay, he thought to himself. . . “you want for to get your gas somewhere else . . . that’s your business.” But he was annoyed that Jack felt he had to lie to him. Below, inside the Probeship, Amos Bright heard the conversation. His mission was to get the cocoons safely home to Antares. Nothing could stand in the way of accomplishing that. He decided to have a talk with the old Greek at the same time he spoke to Cummings and Betters. The Brigade could always use some more members.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT – CAN THE BABIES TRAVEL?

  Leaving Earth was never a question. The Brigade had come to their home planet for births, nothing more. But the question of what they might do with the babies could not be answered until they knew exactly what these babies were. It was clear now that physically the babies were human in every way. They all had inherited the disease-free blood, organ and muscle tissue their parents had as a result of the Antarean processing. The preliminary tests showed no genetic abnormalities. There was a question about what the effect of two new sets of chromosomes, present in the infants, meant. And the growth rate of those already born seemed to be much faster than normal Earth-human babies. What that meant could not yet be determined. The chief pediatrician needed at least six weeks to hazard a guess as to how advanced the development of these infants might prove to be. He would base his estimate on comparison with a group of human babies being born in the nearby Houston Children’s Hospital during the same time period. Until that data was in, the decision as to how soon the infants might be able to travel in space, if at all, would have to be deferred.

  The Mothership had left Antares. Its tactical route and approach to Earth was similar to that of the Watership. In fact, if the cocoon retrieval went according to schedule, the Mothership, using stars and planets to block it from instruments on Earth, and the Watership and storage tank would rendezvous on the moon’s far side undetected. But the means of masking the Watership and its cargo container departure was still being developed.

  As requested by Amos Bright, the Mothership had aboard the means to process and cocoon the infants for space travel. How long they would have to remain in suspended animation was not known, and Beam was deeply concerned that this might prove a dangerous, if not impossible task.

  “We have processed our own kind this way,” she told the Brigade Commanders. We know that for us, and several other humanoids, cocooning works. But for Earth-humans . . . for ones so young, who can say?” Her apprehension was disconcerting to the commanders.

  At a meeting of the Brigade in the dining room, the commanders informed their comrades about the potentially hostile plans of the Defense Secretary and the departure problems they would have to solve. Alicia and Phillip were working on those. Of course Mersky knew nothing about hat.

  Beam then addressed the gathering. “We will have to wait and see what condition the infants reach in the next month, and how they compare with normal Earth-human babies.”

  “And we will need to see what surprises the mixed babies bring to us as well,” Ruth added as she felt her own baby move as if in response to Beam’s information.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE – THREE MORE FOR THE BRIGADE

  Detective Betters’ wife listened patiently as they sat alone in the Florida room sipping cool white wine spritzers, while her husband related the story. He began by going back five years to the chase up Red Lake Canal when his speedboat was lifted from the canal, hurled across the manicured lawn of a wealthy Coral Gables resident and dumped into the man’s green and r
ed tiled swimming pool. When he got to the part about seeing the President of the United States, Paige Betters thought her husband had finally lost it.

  “Stop right there,” she insisted, getting up from her chaise, hovering over him as he lay prone on his own lounge chair. “The story was good, damned good. One of the best you’ve told. But just what do you think I am? The President? Give me a break.”

  “I swear, honey.”

  “Don’t you swear about those lies. You’ve been with Matt too long. Both of you have carried around this condo story from five years ago like heavy baggage. Now that retirement is near I guess Matt wants to clean up old business. But that doesn’t mean you have to be involved.”

  “Honey. Please,” he begged. “Everything I say I can prove. It’s not the story that matters. It’s what we want to do about this offer . . .”

  “Someone offered you a job after you retire?”

  “Sort of . . . like that. But it involves you too.” She walked over to the wet bar they had built in the corner of the tropical room and fixed herself another drink. They had both worked hard for this house. It was in a good section of Kendall. They had paid sixty thousand dollars twenty-two years ago. Now it was worth over two hundred seventy thousand. It was their equity. Paige was extremely proud of the house and loved her husband dearly. Police work, even in the Coral Gables sheriff’s office, was dangerous. They’d had no children. Once, after they were settled in the house, they discussed adoption, but were told they were too old when they finally applied.

  “I want you to listen to me, honey.” Betters’ voice was serious. She came back to the chaise and sat down.

  “Okay. I’ll listen.” And she did, although she couldn’t possibly believe the “offer” he described. Yet she had never seen him so insistent and as far as she knew he’d never lied to her. They were up most of the night until she decided that if, and she used the word if advisedly, the story was true then she would go if he wanted it. He said he did. She was suddenly frightened, realizing either way her life would change radically. If he was lying then it was obvious he was ill - perhaps Alzheimer’s. And if he was telling the truth, then they were about to begin a life she really couldn’t comprehend.