The Cocoon Trilogy

by David Saperstein

  Betty’s second in command, Francis Rush, scanned the area, sending data and images up to the Mothership in orbit above them.

  “I have no air-breathing life forms on the scope,” Rush told his commander. Betty strained, listening for the voice she had heard on their approach to the planet, but there was only silence.

  “What is your life-scan setting?” she asked Rush, who had been a mortgage broker during his life on Earth. When given the possibility of various jobs in the Brigade, he chose life sciences, a field that had always fascinated him in his youth, but one that he never pursued. He jokingly referred to it as an excellent second career choice.

  “Humanoid. Air breathing. Carbon based,” Rush answered. Betty was about to suggest a change in the setting when she noticed something move, low to the ground in the tall, thick, elephant-grass type vegetation to her left. Rush saw it too, and pointed his scanner, which was networked with the on-board Finder. “Nothing,” he told Betty as he watched the instrument’s data screen.

  “Switch to another setting.”

  “But with this atmosphere and water, and the Finder’s locater program, I think we should keep...”

  “Water-breather. Reptilian,” Betty said firmly. “Do it now, Francis! Please.” Rush made the adjustment. His screen lit up.

  “Holy, Mother of God!” he exclaimed. “We’re surrounded.” Betty signaled for the landing party to stand fast. She stepped forward alone and signaled the universal gesture of peace – arms outstretched, palms up, head bowed.

  “Welcome, Commander Betty Franklin.” It was the same female voice that had communicated telepathically when they had approached the planet. “You may remove your breathing devices. You will find our atmosphere fairly compatible to your home- planet, Earth.” The source of the voice moved out of the grass. It was undoubtedly a reptilian being with round, dinner-plate sized, amber scales and a round head that was proportionately large for its body. It stood on four stout legs, a quadruped with three tentacles protruding from behind its head. It was low to the ground, measuring four feet.

  Betty removed her helmet and turned off her oxygen supply. The air was breathable with a pleasant odor like a rich, earthy loam. Betty signed the greeting again. In response, the being fanned its tentacles above its head and bowed.

  “We are so very thrilled to welcome you, Commander Betty Franklin. You are the first visitors to Paccum.”

  “Thank you,” Betty answered. She lowered her arms and faced the being. It turned its head slightly, so that one of its round blue eyes, positioned on the side of its head like an herbivore, viewed her directly.

  “We are Aicha, a race that you might call reptilian. We are carbon based, evolved to survive and procreate using the energy from our blue sun. As you can see, that is at the ultraviolet end of the spectrum.” The Aicha indicated the flora around them, as several more Aicha stepped forward. Intermingled with them were smaller Aicha, obviously the young. Their bodies had only a few scales and were covered with pale blue, downy hair. Their eyes were darker than the adults’ and their nostrils much larger. “Almost all of the cognitive life on Paccum is reptilian, or I should say was, until our offspring, incubating in their eggs, began to communicate with your children on Earth. As you can see, they are evolving.”

  Betty Franklin was stunned by the news of this contact and the physical difference that the Aicha young displayed from their parents. She had picked up pieces of the messages from Joe Finley and Frank Hankinson, but had not yet captured the full text. Both made reference to the children and evolutionary leaps. But none had mentioned any pre-birth contact. Communication to another galaxy? What had the children done? And how?

  As if the Aicha female standing before her could read her mind, it stepped forward and emitted an extremely pleasing scent that calmed Betty and the rest of the landing party. Betty relaxed and smiled.

  “That’s very nice,” she said.

  “A welcome gift, Betty Franklin” the Aicha said. “In your language, you may call me Halo. If you and your party will follow us, there are many who wish to meet you and talk about the children.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - TWO MISSIONS LAUNCH

  While the Brigade’s mission to test the children on Earth, and Amos Bright’s ambassadorial mission to Klane were being prepared, most of the Brigade on Antares was saying their good-byes and returning to their galactic assignments. The Antarean spaceport, located one kilometer below the planet’s frozen surface, was a beehive of activity. Every available Mothership and Watership had been brought to Antares and parked in orbit around the ice planet. As their destinations were vectored and passenger manifests completed, they glided down to the floor of an ancient volcano, now frozen, and into the wide shaft that was the entrance to the spaceport. Once settled, they shut down all propulsion. They were mounted on conveyors that brought them down to the spaceport where they took on supplies, supplemented crews and boarded their Brigade passengers. Once the loading process was complete, the missions were logged into the main Antarean computers. All vehicles were launched through a second shaft in the volcano, straight up and out into space.

  All but two ships were ion-drive propelled. The exceptions were two new inter-galactic Motherships, fitted with Parman drives and special navigation systems. They were to go to Earth and Klane as their shakedown missions.

  Several Brigade members remained on Antares to be trained for future inter-galactic missions. They would be launched as soon as data from the current missions to the Bezzolentine and Manigra Galaxies could be analyzed, and the crews debriefed. Three more new Motherships, now under construction, were to be available shortly, bringing the total fleet to seven. With Commander Bernie Lewis on Earth, and using the remaining nine Brigade commanders in space for communication, it meant that only seven inter-galactic missions could be mounted at one time, leaving one commander on Antares as receiver.

  Amos Bright’s ambassadorial mission to Klane had the highest priority. The commander of his vessel was an experienced Antarean male named Subrala, who had served with Bright as a junior officer on several missions during the past four millennia. The crew was entirely Antarean, with the exception of Brigade Commander Art Perlman, who would serve as on-board communicator, as agreed, and two Parman guides, whose starlight absorption would power the space craft at supra-light speed to a nearly immediate arrival on Klane.

  The complete message from Joe Finley to Bernie Lewis had now been received. It went into the details of the Sloor emergence, their contact with the Amato’s and Finley’s, the Sloor’s knowledge of the Butterfly House children, and the remarkable evolutionary leap the Sloor race had made.

  Ben Green and Ruth Charnofsky delivered the complete text to Head Counsel Spooner, in her private rooms. Ruth had asked Ben, who did the final compilation of the message, to withhold the fact that Joe’s communication was for Bernie Lewis, and not the Antareans.

  “If what Commander Finley says is true,” Spooner told Ruth and Ben, “then the children have interfered with our basic directives regarding first contact. I also fear they have, in some inexplicable way, meddled in the evolution of a species. That, as you know, is The Master’s work, and strictly forbidden.”

  “Until we understand what actual involvement the children had in this,” Ruth told Spooner, “I think it best to delay judgment of them.”

  “And the Sloor,” Ben added. “Remember they seem to be enamored of the children and quite grateful.” Spooner abruptly stood. Such a quick move was not usual for the tall, slim Antareans whose center of gravity was rather high. She was obviously upset, and fought to control her balance.

  “Meddling is meddling. These are children. They are out of control and dangerous. I will not have it! I have given instructions to Ambassador Bright to asess the situation with the Sloor as quickly as possible. I want Commander Bess Perlman available, and at my side, to receive the report that will be communicated by her husband.”

  “As you wish, Head Counsel Spooner,” was all
Ruth Charnofsky said. She bowed politely, as did Ben, and they left Spooner’s quarters without another word.

  Once in their own quarters, Ruth telepathed to Ben. She blocked outside reception. “They will be watching the two of us. Ask Mary to send a message to Arthur once the Klane mission is launched. He is to direct any communication to us on Earth first, and wait for my instructions before sending anything on to Bess for Spooner and the High Council.”

  “Spooner will expect that,” Ben suggested.

  “Absolutely. But unless they can process Gideon Mersky up to commander, they cannot possibly know for sure.”

  “So that will force their hand.”

  “Yes. They will process him as soon as we leave.” Ben Green was troubled.

  “How do we circumvent that?”

  “Annabella Costa.”

  “And if she can’t control him?

  “Then my guess is that the children can,” Ruth answered solemnly.

  Within two hours of Amos Bright’s departure for Klane, the Earth mission was ready to go. It, too, was using a new inter-galactic Mothership, equipped with Parmans. The journey would be made at supra-light speed, allowing an almost immediate arrival.

  Ruth Charnofsky said farewell to her mate Panatoy, who was returning to be with their daughter on Subax, in Rigal Quad-4.

  “Give her love from me,” she told Panatoy as he embraced her. She beckoned the tall Subaxian to bend down. Ruth then kissed him and whispered in his ample ear. “Ask Autumn if she communicated with the children recently. She may be reticent and evasive. Tell her it is of extreme importance that I know as soon as possible. She can contact me directly. And, of course, tell her I love her.” Panatoy stood up to his full height.

  “We will both miss you, my love. Hurry home.”

  Several minutes later, the huge new Mothership with her Parman Guides in place, launched out of the secondary shaft into the ink-black vacuum of space. Ben and Mary Green, Ruth Charnofsky, and the delighted parents of the children of Butterfly House, felt their usual adrenaline rush at departure heightened by the anticipation of seeing and embracing the children of Butterfly House.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN - REUNITED

  It was the height of the hurricane season in South Florida. A week earlier, a deep low trough had developed off the coast of Africa and was now swirling through the South Atlantic, picking up energy, speed and moisture while its center tightened into a classic hurricane eye. Now at force four, it was taking dead aim on the Cayman Islands, and was predicted to make landfall on Cayman Brac in nine hours. The tiny island was already experiencing gusty winds and drenching rain showers.

  Butterfly House, situated on a cliff overlooking a sheltered horseshoe shaped bay, faced due east. If the hurricane’s track remained true, its eye would pass to the east of the bay, meaning it would bear the brunt of the storm. But Butterfly House was well built and reinforced with concrete walls and heavy tile roofing. It had weathered several large hurricanes over the past sixteen years.

  Scott Green, the Erhardt twins, Melody Messina and Beam Amato, were meeting with Bernie Lewis in a glass enclosed sun room that faced the horseshoe bay cove. Bernie had received a message from Ben Green earlier that the mission to Earth was preparing to leave Antares. The group settled into comfortable, cushioned wicker chairs around a wicker glass-topped table. Bernie noticed a sparkle of excitement in the children’s eyes, confirming to him that they knew the mission would be arriving soon.

  “They have Parman Guides,” Bernie said to start the meeting. The children smiled and nodded. “I know you can send and receive messages as we do, so we can drop pretenses. Using the new Mothership and Parmans as a shakedown cruise, their voyage here will be close to real-time...but you know that already, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Uncle Bernie,” Scott said. Bernie smiled and waited, sensing that it was time to get everyone on the same page regarding the children’s plans. “And we want to tell you the rest,” Scott continued, “so that you can smooth the way for our departure.” His tone of voice, and assured manner, left no doubt in Bernie’s mind that Scott Green was the leader of the group.

  “Thank you, kids,” was all Bernie said. But he was relieved. Melody Messina, who grew more beautiful every day, leaned across the table and placed her hand on top of Bernie’s.

  “We never thought to try to fool you or be evasive, Uncle Bernie. But there were things we had to figure out ourselves.”

  “And do ourselves,” Joshua Erhardt said.

  “For good reasons,” Eric added. Bernie nodded, and placed his other hand on top of Melody’s.

  “I never doubted anything you kids ever did. I assumed you had good reasons. You’re all very special, not just to me and your parents, but to the Brigade. As you’ve grown, I’ve watched you struggle to understand your powers. Now I, the other commanders, your parents, and the Brigade trust you have found your way, and will fulfill your promise. You make us all very proud.”

  “Thank you,” Scott said for all of them. “We are what we are because of the decisions all of you made.” There was a moment of great love that passed from the children of Butterfly House to Bernie, the other Brigade commanders, the parents and through them, to the entire Brigade scattered across the Universe.

  “The Mothership will be here within the hour,” Bernie said as he and Melody parted hands. They can come in close to Butterfly House. The storm will cover their approach and landing. The Probeship will shuttle them here. Aunt Rose is manning it now.”

  “We will leave Earth,” Beam Amato told her mentor and protector. “But there are a few things we must do before then.”

  “Yes. You’ll need to be tested,” Bernie said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Scott responded. “We are quite capable of space travel.”

  “In many ways,” Melody added, grinning. A gust of wind blew some palm fronds against the glass roof of the sun room. She and the others then proceeded to tell Bernie about the Sloor, The Achia, the Liastans and several other contacts they had made, and how that had been accomplished.

  The Mothership, commanded by Antarean Ayal Mark, engaged the Parman Guide the moment they were free of Antares’ gravitational pull. The Guide focused on Sun, the star of Earth’s system, and began to absorb its light and energy. Within moments, the sleek spaceship surpassed light-speed to supra-light speed and moved through light-time toward its target, the blue, oxygen/water planet - third out from Sun.

  Annabella Costa languidly stretched her svelte naked body under the pale-blue, down comforter. She thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of her well- toned muscles and the tingle of adrenaline as it coursed down her back and into her groin.

  “You are one evil, ever-lovin’ tiger,” she said as she turned toward Gideon Mersky’s side of the bed. But he was not there. She sat up and glanced at the wing chair where his clothes had been thrown in disarray. They were still there. Then she heard the shower running. “Cleanin’ up without me, are you?” she muttered to herself as she slipped out of bed.

  Mersky was shaving in the steamy shower stall without a mirror. It was something he had learned to do during his ten years as an officer in the army. He shaved by feel, but it required some concentration, so he was surprised when he felt Annabelle’s soapy hand slide down his back. By now, he knew her touch and leaned back into it.

  “A little lower,” he said softly.

  “I’ll go as low-down as y’all want and need, Lover-boy.”

  “Sounds like a fine plan,” he said, turning around to face her. He set aside the razor and embraced his shower partner forcefully.

  “Oh, Gideon,” Annabella whispered as he pulled her against his wet, soapy flesh. “You are such a beast!”

  Amos Bright arrived on Klane with little fanfare. Most of the Brigade and Antareans there were busy with the Sloor, who had all returned from their mating flight and joined the juveniles and new born on the beach. Only Antarean Commander Beam, and Joe and Alma Finley, greeted the High Council Amba
ssador as he disembarked from the Mothership.

  “We are honored to see you, Ambassador Bright,” Beam said as she bowed while extending her hands to the side, palms up. The Finley’s’ greeting was quite different. Joe shook Bright’s slender right hand and gently pulled him in for a shoulder-to- shoulder bump. Then Alma reached up and cupped his pale, Modigliani-like face, gently pulling it down to hers where she planted a sincere kiss on the cheek of her old friend.

  “We have missed you, Amos,” she said.

  “A lot,” Joe added.

  Bright was awkwardly embarrassed, as he always was when Earth-humans expressed their affection openly.

  “Yes,” he mustered. “Yes. It has been a long time and so much has happened to us all. How I envy you being able to travel and work...and now, the universe is open to us. It is a wondrous time, is it not?”

  “Fabulous,” Joe Finley answered.

  “We can’t wait to go ourselves,” Alma added. Then a familiar voice shouted a greeting, as Art Perlman stepped from the Mothership and joined the group.

  “You guys missed one hell of a gathering,” he told the Finley’s as he embraced his old friends and fellow commanders.

  “So we hear,” Alma said. “How is Bess? Where is she?”

  “Bess is wonderful. She sends her love. She stayed on Antares for uh,” Art made a quick nod toward Amos Bright, “for communication purposes. I’m here for that too.”

  “But you didn’t have to come for that. We’ve been handling it from here,” Joe said.

  “The High Council required Mr. and Mrs. Perlman’s services during our journey,” Bright interrupted. “You see, it was a shakedown trip for the new Mothership and there were, uh, two new Parman Guides.” His manner was abrupt; his tone defensive. That was very unlike Amos Bright. An uncomfortable silence followed for a moment.

  “Ambassador Bright,” Beam said, breaking the mood, “we must go to the Sloor as quickly as possible. They have gathered to meet you and welcome you to Klane.”