“It’s okay,” Alma said softly. She was captivated because in many ways Rose Lewis was talking about feelings that she had had regarding her own husband’s recent actions.
“We’ve been married a long time,” Rose continued, “A good life. But my Bernie is a difficult man. Sex was sex. It was okay, but never a big deal. I come from an upbringing where it was never discussed. I was taught that a woman was there for a man. You know what I mean.” Alma nodded that she understood.
“So suddenly, after a long time, I mean we are not spring chickens anymore, Bernie comes in and, out of the blue, sweeps me into the bedroom and undresses me and makes love to me in a way he never did in all the years we’ve married. He was like a stranger…” Rose paused. “But kind.”
She sobbed. Alma moved her chair close to Rose and put her arm around her. “I know what you are saying, Rose. Believe me, I know.”
Rose looked up at her. “You do?”
Alma felt her eyes tear up. “Yes, Rose dear. I really do!”
“So…I’m not finished,” Rose said, gathering herself. “I called you because at the game yesterday I had a feeling that you somehow understood that I was uncomfortable. Somehow I felt that you knew.”
“Yes. “I sensed something was wrong, and it wasn’t the flu.”
“When I went back to the apartment Bernie was there. He wanted to talk, but I cut him off. I told him I didn’t want to talk about it. You have to know Bernie to see how funny that is, because that’s his favorite line when he wants to end a discussion. Alma ... I’m afraid. I’m afraid that after forty years of marriage I suddenly have a stranger living with me and I don’t know what to do.”
She looked down in her coffee. Alma took Rose’s hand and squeezed it.
She tried to think of something to say to her friend.
As their wives struggled and reflected on their newfound lovers, the four men had made their way to what they considered their private health club and stood around the center table planning the morning’s activities.
The wall screen was its familiar pale blue. The quiet hum filled the room. A fine mist rose from the cabinets. All of the overhead “lamps” were off.
“Let’s have a look at those two things over near the wall,” Ben Green suggested.
The men walked over to the first device. It was just three feet tall and cylindrical in shape with a diameter of about one foot. The color was silver, but dull, and there were no controls or cables. The device seemed solid. On the top were two round white dots.
The men circled it for a moment. Then Ben reached his hand toward the dots. As he made contact the thing hummed and glowed red. When he pulled his hand away it stopped.
“Nothing,” said Ben.
“What the hell is it?” Art asked.
Ben was about to answer when Bernie Lewis let out a “Holy shit!”
The other three looked at him and then down to his bathing suit because Bernie was staring at it.
“What?” Joe asked.
“My bathing suit. This morning I went in for a dip before we met. My suit was wet when we came in here. Look now. The front of the suit is dry. Bone dry. But the back is still wet. This thing must be some kind of heater or dryer.”
Ben checked the bathing suit. “I think you’re right. It makes sense, too. We use this before we leave to dry the sweat.”
“Or maybe before we start to dry our clothing?” Joe suggested.
In any case, they agreed they had found a dryer and it belonged at the beginning or end of the “health club” sequence.
The next device was farther down the blue wall toward the rear of the room. It was larger. In fact, it reached to the ceiling. It appeared to be a black cabinet or storage locker. It was about six feet wide and, they estimated, at least fifteen feet tall. Its depth was only about two feet. They could not see a door or opening of any kind. The men began looking around the sides and base of the cabinet for a handle or control panel.
“Here. I think I found something,” Joe announced. His fingers were touching a slight bulge in the lower right side panel. “Here goes nothing,” he said as he pressed the bulge.
As if by magic, the front of the cabinet disappeared and revealed row upon row of slim silver handles. Art did some quick mathematics and told the others that there were nine-hundred-forty-one of them. Fifty were missing.
Ben grasped one of the handles closest to him and pulled. He could not move it. The others each tried various handles at random, but with no success. Then Joe Finley told them to back off. He studied the contents of the cabinet for a moment and reached for the handle next to the last missing one. Sure enough, it came sliding out attached to a slim silver case.
They tried to open the case for fifteen minutes, but to no avail. Finally, Ben Green suggested that they replace it, since obviously it required a key or special device to get it open.
Joe was reluctant to give up. “It really bugs me,” he said. “What could possibly be in here?”
“Maybe their lockers for very little people,” Bernie suggested.
They all laughed. Joe replaced the case in its slot. He then bent down and pressed the bulge again. Immediately, the front panel appeared and the case was sealed once again.
“I suggest we keep these two devices out of the cycle for now,” Ben said. “Why don’t we each start in a different place?” They decided an order. Ben would take cabinet number one, Bernie would take cabinet number six, Art would lie on one of the small cots at the rear of the room, and Joe Finley would take the center table. They would stay for ten minutes and then discuss how they felt and what they felt.
But they weren’t prepared for the changes that occurred when the blue wall turned red.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – SOMETHING’S VERY DIFFERENT
Arnie Fischer gave Judy a big hug that lifted her right off the ground. She squealed and laughed. “You two cut messing around. He’s a married man now!” Sandy called from the kitchen.
“Sorry, honey. Force of habit,” Arnie shouted back. Judy laughed again. “Want a drink?”
“Sure. Red wine?”
“Coming up.”
Arnie and Sandy had been married for a few weeks, but they had lived together for three years, off and on. He was an art director at a small advertising agency in Miami and a talented commercial artist too. He made extra money doing illustrations. Three years older than brother Jack, Arnie had a very different personality. He was solid and responsible. The difference in age between the brothers had kept them on separate paths, until lately. Arnie had missed Vietnam because of a college deferment and a subsequent career as a teacher. Jack had been drafted into the navy. He served on gunboats in the Mekong Delta and had been involved in some heavy combat. After his return to the States, or to the world as Jack put it, Arnie had made an effort to get close to his younger brother. Their parents were dead and, apart from one aunt in Cleveland and two cousins in California, they had no other family.
Physically, Arnie was shorter and slimmer than Jack. He was a fitness nut, so he was in good shape. Jack, on the other hand, was a five inches taller and thirty pounds heavier. Although Arnie was stronger, Jack could put a bear hug on him and immobilize his older brother. As youngsters Arnie and Jack always fought with one another. The three years difference weighed in Arnie’s favor until Jack was eighteen. Jack had received his draft notice and Arnie had pleaded with him to enroll in college for a deferment. Jack had refused and the discussion quickly turned into a pushing match that wound up as a knock-down, drag-out fight. Jack exploded on his brother and broke two of Arnie’s ribs and put a hairline fracture in his jaw, proving he was no longer “little brother.”
“Merlot?” Arnie asked.
“Fine,” said Judy. Her thoughts were far away with Jack.
“You okay?” he asked, handing her the wine.
“Sure. I just miss the bum.”
Sandy came in from the kitchen and kissed Judy hello. She asked Arnie to pour her a glass of wine.
/>
“Want a joint?” she asked Judy.
“Not now. I got ripped last night with Monica.”
Arnie brought the drink to his wife and sat next to her on the fluffy sofa. Judy sat on the floor pillow opposite them.
“Tell us about this charter Captain Jack took on,” Arnie said.
“He didn’t really say much,” Judy said, “except that it was some kind of treasure hunt and they wanted him for three months. He’ll be around on weekends.”
“Where are they diving?” Sandy was interested. She was an amateur diver with a scuba license that cleared her for depths up to one hundred fifty feet.
“I don’t know. Off the Bahamas, I think. One of the Windward Islands. He was vague. I guess they don’t want him to talk about it.” She sighed. Why am I so damned emotional? she thought.
Sandy picked up on it immediately. “You want to call him on the radio phone?”
Judy looked at her watch. It was eight P.M. “Let’s wait till after dinner.” She perked up. “What’s on the menu?”
“Rock lobster, baked potato, salad, and your favorite, Key Lime pie,” Sandy answered proudly.
“Wow! Aren’t we the gourmet bride,” Judy joked. “I’m starved and that sounds great!” They went out to the Florida room, a screened-in patio with a small pool, to eat.
The day had been different from previous ones for Jack and the Antareans. They had brought only three cocoons up from The Stones. These were different from the rest in that they were larger and had a silver caps at the head and foot. Amos had telepathed that these were three group commanders. They were not commanders in the sense that All Light, No Light and the female, whose name was Beam, were commanders, but they did have special powers and training. Jack recalled the first day, when Amos had explained the structure of the little army. These commanders had ninety soldiers under them in groups of ten.
After docking and moving the cocoons to the processing room, Jack had gone to his room to shower and eat. He had just removed his deck shoes when he felt a small, sharp pain that went down his spine. Without knowing why, he put his shoes back on and went quickly to the orange door. Something’s wrong, he thought.
Yes, answered Amos into his mind.
What? telepathed Jack. Are the group commanders damaged, too?
No, sent All Light. We believe someone was here today.
Once in the room, Jack realized that it warm but they had not yet begun the processing. Everything looked normal. The wall was blue, the cabinets misting, the lamps off, but, yes, the room was normally cool before they began processing. Now it was warm. All the Antareans thoughts were attuned and Jack was with them. Amos suggested a possible overload in the electrics. Hal went for the test equipment the rest began processing the three command cocoons.
It was no wonder the room was still warm. Ben, Artie, Bernie and Joe had been in there for most of the day. In fact, they had left only an hour before the Antareans returned. The day had started with a frightening experience followed by the most wonderful feelings that these men had ever had.
Ben Green noticed the color change first. “Hey, guys, look at the wall. It’s going red!” he yelled from his cabinet. Art and Joe were under their respective lamps and didn’t want to open their eyes.
Bernie looked up from cabinet six. “I’ll be damned. Maybe the movie is starting,” he said. Hadn’t Ben told them it was a wall screen?
“I hope it’s a porno,” Bernie shouted.
Then Art Perlman called out from the rear of the room, “Hey! Who the hell turned on the heat? It’s getting like a sauna back here!”
“Ow!” Joe Finley yelled as he jumped off the center table. “Jesus! I’m burning up!”
Ben called to Art to get up and open the cabinets. Art seemed in a daze and waved Ben off. Ben screamed at him, “Art, damn it! Joe’s in trouble!”
Art sat up and his lamp went off. He was disoriented for a moment, but then saw Joe on his knees near the center table and ran to him. Joe’s skin was as red as a lobster under the fine white ash that covered him.
Ben yelled again, “Get us out of here!”
Art left Joe and opened Ben’s and Bernie’s cabinets. They slid out and gathered around Joe Finley, who was still on his knees, obviously in pain. The wall had begun to turn from red to blue.
“That damned wall must be some kind of sun lamp,” Joe said, getting to his feet. “I feel like I’ve got one hell of a sunburn.”
“Are you okay?” Bernie asked, voicing all their concern.
“Yeah. I guess. Funny,” Joe said, “it was cool under the lamp. Then the wall got red and I felt heat like someone opened a furnace door. But, and this is going to sound weird, it was under my skin ... the heat, that is. It was like I was burning from within.”
Ben gently examined Joe’s skin.
He first brushed away the fine ash which, once again, disappeared before it hit the floor. He poked Joe’s forearm. “Does that hurt?”
“No.”
“You don’t seem to be burned, but your skin is definitely red.” He squeezed the forearm and then released. It was white but then immediately turned red again. “Blood,” said Ben, “your capillaries are full of blood.”
“That’s why he’s red,” Bernie added.
“Of course,” Art said. “It’s like a super massage. It gets the blood flowing right up to the surface of the skin.”
“Like a slap,” Joe agreed. “I just wasn’t ready for that deep a massage.” They all relaxed.
“I think we should take it easy with this stuff,” Ben suggested. “Moderation is the name of the game.”
For the rest of the morning they rotated with the equipment. One man stood by each time just in case something went wrong. They found that each had a different tolerance for the center table, and they could judge how long to stay on the it by the color of the wall. Art Perlman was able to stay the longest. They nicknamed him “Deep Red.”
The foursome passed on their gin game because they couldn’t sit still. Ben suggested they go out to lunch. He called Alma and told her their plan. He also asked her to call the other wives and let them know.
Alma was relieved because it gave her more time to talk with Rose. When she called Mary Green, Mary suggested that they all come over to her place for lunch. She said she was feeling energetic and would put out a light spread. Alma checked with Rose, who reluctantly said okay.
When Alma called Bess Perlman to invite her to lunch at Mary’s, Bess was also reluctant. Then Alma told her that Rose was with her and that they were both going. Bess finally agreed to join them, but still sounded distant.
The men took Bernie Lewis’ big red Buick and drove over to Wolfie’s on Collins Avenue. They were starved. This time of day was always busy at Wolfie’s. The boys got seated quickly because they were in the line for foursomes. Most of the other patrons were in twos. After they ordered, it was Art Perlman who opened the discussion. “How do you guys feel?” he asked.
Joe Finley answered first. “Like I’m twenty-one. Did you see what I ordered for lunch?”
“Did you see what we all ordered for lunch?” Ben quipped.
“That equipment sure builds up an appetite,” Bernie said.
“It’s more than an appetite!” Art and Joe said together. They looked at each other and laughed.
“You a mind reader?” asked Art.
“Yes,” answered Joe, “and so are you.”
“So are we all,” Ben quietly, looking around. “I knew you both were going to say that. I knew it before you spoke.”
Bernie, who also looked around at nearby tables, murmured, “Yeah. Me, too.” He turned back to the others. “Hey guys, take a good look at the people in here.” The other three were already scanning the room. “It’s funny,” Bernie continued. “I mean, they our age, but they look...like old.”
“They are old,” Ben said. “But I know what you mean. It’s like we don’t belong with them.”
“Yeah,” Art agreed.
“Nothing. I didn’t say anything,” Joe answered.
“I thought you said something about the ocean.”
“No. But I was thinking about the ocean.”
Then a serious expression transformed Joe’s face. “Let’s stop the bullshit, guys,” he began. “I’m going to say what’s on all our minds. Something really different and weird has happened to us - something to do with that room and that equipment. I’ll bet we all made love to our wives last night and this morning. I’ll bet we all feel like kids again. I’ll bet we can read each other’s minds. I’ll bet we are all scared and confused.”
No one answered, but each knew the other’s thought. Yes!
“Right,” Joe said aloud. “And I’ll tell you something else. After we finish lunch, you guys are going to drive me to the hospital. I’m going to have my doctor do a blood test. I’ll bet my leukemia is getting better.”
“Wrong,” Bernie Lewis said. “I’ll bet it’s gone!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – THE ANTARES CONDO BASE
Had the Antareans known about the unwanted members of their “health club,” it would have made their life easier. Instead, they pondered the possibilities of why the room was warm. Hal, Harry, and Beam, the female commander, were busy running circuit checks on the equipment and power sources. They weren’t having any luck. Everything seemed to be functioning properly.
Amos glanced at his watch and telepathed to the others that he was going to the condo office to meet with Mr. Shields. He had called the manager at home after they had discovered the warmth. He asked Shields to meet him at the office on the pretext of a change in plans for construction that couldn’t wait. When Amos left the processing room and headed toward Building A, he saw the light on in the office, so he knew Shields was waiting there.
Since they had begun raising the cocoons, there had been little contact with the manager other than a telephone call each morning to keep in touch. As he walked toward the office, his thoughts went back to the time before the complex was Antarean property.
The Cocoon Trilogy Page 10