The Cocoon Trilogy

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The Cocoon Trilogy Page 21

by David Saperstein


  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE - THE MIND READER

  Frank had not expected to convince his wife and the Amato’s so easily. It was at their usual Thursday day night card game. His wife, Andrea, and their guests wanted to play cards but Frank seemed to want to talk about some nonsense to do with the B building and the manager. Frank got them worked up and annoyed, then stopped abruptly stating, “Are we gong to play cards, or what?” The game was bridge. The cads were dealt and then Frank began to recite what cards the three had in their hands. At first they were sure he had stacked the deck, so Paul Amato shuffled and dealt again. Frank, smiling, repeated the feat. “Isn’t that a bitch?” he asked them.

  “How the hell do you do that?” Paul Amato demanded. The Boston stockbroker was impressed.

  “I can read your minds.”

  “Bullshit!” Paul said. It’s some kind of magic trick. Damned good one.

  “You want to see it again?” Frank asked.

  “No. I believe you. Hut how you do it is the question.”

  The women were silent. Andrea was embarrassed because she thought Frank was showing off. She liked the Amato’s and she was afraid they would get angry with Frank.

  “So you’re embarrassed about this, Andrea?” Frank asked his wife. She was shocked. “I’m a mind-reader, too,” he boasted, enjoying his powers for the first time.

  “Okay, smartass,” Paul said, “I’m thinking of a number.”

  “2,347.66” Frank responded immediately.

  “Jesus H. Christ!” How in the hell did you know that?

  “What in God’s name is going on here, Frank?” Andrea asked.

  “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry about the theatrics. I couldn’t help myself. Let’s put the cards aside and I’ll tell you one hell of a story…”

  It took a half hour to tell it all. When Frank finished he asked the question. Andrea, and Paul and Marie Amato looked at each other, smiled, nodded and told Frank they would be delighted to join the Geriatric Brigade. So the four couples became six. They all gathered in the meeting room for the Friday night function to plan how to spread out among the other people from Building A and size up the chances of activating more recruits.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR – WHAT GIRL?

  Ralph Shields was in jail. Wally Parker was in the hospital. It had been fun. True, it had to be done, and she never did anything halfway, but Beam felt guilty. Somehow, she would have to make it up to the two men before she left.

  Beam had gone to Wally’s office in the basement, where she knew he was sleeping. She knocked to awaken him. From that point on she had mentally seduced him under the guise of Laurie, Mr. Bright’s assistant. As with Tony Stranger, physically nothing happened. But Wally was sure he had gone to heaven as the beautiful young girl appeared like magic and began to make love to him.

  At the same time, Amos Bright stormed into Shields’ office and, in an uncharacteristic manner, reamed the manager for allowing his employees to turn a respectable residence into a brothel. Shields begged ignorance. “What are you talking about, Mr. Bright.”

  “I’m talking about that damned Wally Parker and my assistant shacking up in the service office, that’s what I’m talking about!”

  “Wally? Shacking up? With who?”

  “My assistant, Mr. Shields. A sweet young girl. He must have given her drugs.”

  “Wally? Drugs?” Shields was sure Amos Bright had made a terrible mistake. Wally drank a little, and went out with a woman now and then, but never drugs, and certainly never young girls. He had never seen Wally with a woman under forty.

  “Please, Mr. Bright. Let me check it out.”

  “You’d better do something, Shields. And now!” Amos stormed out of the office, chuckling to himself. He felt a bit weak and knew he had better get back to the processing room for an hour under the lasers. Beam would take care of the rest.

  Shields knocked hard on Wally’s door.

  “Wally, open up!” He could hear Wally moaning in ecstasy and the sound of a female laughing.

  “Not now, boss. Not now.”

  “You open this goddamned door, or I’ll break it down!”

  “Bug off, Ralph. I’m busy!”

  Shields reached into his pocket for the master key. Wally had double-locked the door from the inside. Beam heard the key in the door and released the inside lock. AS Shields burst into the room, Beam gave him the image of Wally naked with a sixteen-year-old girl. “Oh Christ, Parker! Are you out of your mind!”

  All Wally could see was his angry boss staring at his lovely, unexpected date.

  All Shields could see was Wally raping an innocent young girl.

  Beam then had Wally pronounce a loud and abusive “Screw you, Shields!” and the rest took care of itself.

  The police arrived within minutes, brought by a call from Amos Bright, before he lay down to rest and feed.

  They discovered a crazed Ralph Shields sitting on top of an unconscious Wally Parker, punching away at the caretaker’s face, which by now was a swollen, bloody mess. Shields babbled incoherently about a kid being raped as the two Dade County officers lifted him off the larger man and cuffed him. One of the cops then called for an ambulance and a backup unit. Within fifteen minutes the Antares complex was quiet again, minus two of its key employees.

  Beam found her way back to the processing room and lay on the cot next to Amos. She, too, needed rest and food. They had ten more cocoons to process that night. After that the humans would begin their own unique processing and the Antareans would have to prepare the way. There would be little rest for any of them for a while.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE – PROCESS TO COMMAND

  After feeling out other resident of Building A, but revealing nothing, the six couples arrived at the decision to begin recruitment by sending the women back to their home cities since it was the women who kept the social and family contacts. There were only a few old business associates whom the men had who might be potential soldiers. That could be handled with an invitation to visit in Florida.

  By morning Bess, Mary, and Alma were already in New York City. Andrea Hankinson was on the morning Eastern Airlines Flight to Atlanta where she would catch a Delta flight to St. Louis. Marie Amato would be on the noon plane to Boston. Rose Lewis, whose mission was to lower Collins Avenue, Aunt Ruth, and the ghetto of the old and forgotten, took the red Buick.

  The men gathered in the Green’s condo. They sat and assessed their inquiries from the Friday night social. About half of the occupants of the condo had been there. Of the thirty couples, eleven were definitely out. They were in their fifties, active in business and part-time, snow-bird residents of the Antares complex. They were too young anyway. And they tended to stay apart from the permanent residents. That left about fifteen couples, not counting the six couples that made up their own group.

  Each of the men had chosen two or three of the couples as targets and had spent time talking about the life in Florida, their feelings about being retired, their families, and how they looked at the future. They were laying the groundwork for the more complicated conversations that would come later.

  Initially, the men told people at the social that they were forming an exciting senior citizens corporation that would start a business in which all the residents could work and contribute their talents. It was exciting to the older people. Retirement in most cases was forced or a result of illness. Some of the people had spent their lives at jobs they hated, scrimping and saving for the glorious days of retirement. The big payoff they called it. Now they found it was boring and isolated. The new business was going to be done with federal funding based on a new law attached to the new Social Security bill pending in Congress. The plan was in the early stages of development awaiting the passage. Once the funds were available, the men lied, they wanted to be ready to apply immediately. So the planning had to take place now. Arrangements were made for each of the men to call on their chosen neighbors that morning.

  Ben Green left the meeting in order to me
et with Amos and Beam.

  A probe ship had come down early Saturday morning. Joe Finley had seen it as he left to drive some of the ladies to the airport. The small probe, glowing slightly blue as it descended directly onto the roof of Building B, was barely noticeable. Joe saw it and pointed it out to the women because he felt its arrival. His senses, now more tuned to the Antarean world, than the human world, were able to pick up the guidance sent out to the probe by Amos and Beam. In fact, Joe pitched in and helped a bit. It amused Amos to feel Finley’s powers join their own. It also felt good to know there was help for them on this planet.

  The probe had brought replacement spacesuit skins for the Earth-bound Antarean rescue party. They would last a month or so depending on how long they were exposed to the caustic atmosphere and waters of south Florida.

  Amos and Beam were rested and refreshed when Ben Green arrived at the processing room. The new suits were working and the atmosphere in the processing room had been brought up to a point that both humans Antareans could tolerate. The large wall glowed pink, the pressure was about three Earth atmospheres. The temperature was a warm one hundred five degrees Fahrenheit.

  “We will probably be bringing some volunteers in today,” Ben said.

  “Already? Good news.” Amos Bright was pleased to see activity so soon.

  “How many do you anticipate?” Beam asked.

  “Hard to say… figure on twenty or thirty.”

  “We will need your help with the equipment. All others are working at The Stones.” Beam said. “They have not yet put on the new skins so they must work slowly and will not be back until late tonight.”

  “Joe and I will help. Bernie and Frank will be available late this afternoon. Art will be back tonight.”

  Ben was concerned. “There isn’t any danger out there, is there?”

  “No,” she answered. “Only that they will be very tired when they return. They will need the cots for a while, and we will have to bring the room to Antarean atmosphere while they change skins.” She thought for a moment and a message passed between her and Amos that Ben could not read. It was transmitted in a different language.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “The language of the Parmans,” Amos answered. “Soon you will know it.”

  Ben paused for a moment. “I wanted to ask you about something. We have sort of decided on who will be our commanders. When do we begin making, uh, doing the changing to become commanders?”

  “That will be done last,” Beam said. “I will have a schedule programmed by tonight so that we can process the people as you bring them. They must understand that once this begins they cannot roam about outside anymore. Since they will come in mostly as couples of male and female, I will program that one of them can be out of this building for a short period of time for one day. This time can be used to finalize their business transactions and gather any possessions they may wish to transport.”

  “Nothing bulky,” Amos added, “but we thought they might wish to bring some mementoes of their life on Earth.”

  This is really happening, thought Ben. We are actually going to leave the Earth. It was staggering. Beam came into his thoughts. She reassured him, stroked him; comfort flowed to him.

  “It is clear to us that this is a difficult decision. We know that in time you will come to understand it was a proper step to take,’ Amos told Ben. “We feel your concerns and, yes, fear of the unknown. I told you that we could help you better understand when the time came. Perhaps for you, Ben Green, the time has come to see more of what we know, and share more of what we are.”

  They led Ben to the center table and lifted him onto it. Above the cone glowed, and for the first time a beam of soft yellow light extended from the core of the cone. It enveloped Ben. This was not the hot ash-producing light that the center table had previously emitted onto the men.

  “We have begun to change the programs to what is actually required for your commander processing,” Beam said. “Relax and allow your mind to be free.”

  Ben closed his eyes and relaxed. He felt warm. He felt a palpable warmth that flowed and filled him as though he were absorbing a substance. It expanded within, like air into a balloon. Opening his eyes, he expected to see himself bloated, but he had not changed shape.

  Amos’ thoughts reached him. You are growing inside. Your nerves are being tuned. Your mind is expanding. You are sensing parts of your body and mind that you have never felt before. We believe that this internal growth reaches to

  the part of you that you call the soul.

  Ben relaxed again, comforted by Amos’ thoughts. His mind filled again. It rambled at first; bits and pieces of insight ... feelings ... sensations of anger and love ... frailty and strength ... random explosions that coursed through his mind and body ... touching emotions ... then it seemed they gathered in one place, deep inside. He felt his skin and bones were a shell, an outer covering for a delicate, living, existing, strong being that was himself. The thing was without gender or form. Its power was enormous. Its love almost brought him to tears. What he sensed was huge and consuming, clear. Infinite!

  He knew. It is not important what that primitive part of me thinks or fears for itself. We have, inside of us, human and Antarean alike, a life force larger than our existence. We are a part of each other, of the Universe. If it is a plan, then we are part of the plan. If it is existence alone, it does not matter, for we are part of the existence, too. We must always reach and grow. It is a thing we can do together. Now, filled with knowledge of myself, I can be a part of all the others who will join. I can meld with them and we are together a part of one another. We are great together. We are wonderful. To leave the Earth is not to leave the Universe, for we are irrevocably a part of the total wonderful occurrence. We are life. We carry the seeds of tomorrow onward to the stars. We are life. We are together, all life; together we are what we call God, the Master.

  Ben rose from the table. His eyes glowed; so did Beam’s and Amos’ under their skin suits. The light was the same color and intensity. “Thank you,” Ben told them.

  He was aware of other things. His thoughts were too full and new to be expressed. Oh, the futility of humanity’s effort to express the knowledge he now possessed. But he was compassionate, because he knew, as he had never known, that the struggle to express would eventually bring the race to understanding. Ben knew it would be a slow process, spread over millennia. Yet, as slow as it might be, inexorably, he knew humanity would someday, on its own, unaided by outside influence, find the meaning to existence that, thanks to the Antareans, he now possessed – the beautiful knowledge of self. “Will we all feel this way; know these things I sees?”

  “Yes,” Amos Bright answered. “Those who make the journey will have to be this way; otherwise, they would not be able to comprehend the Parmans, or Antareans or the endless beings we encounter in our travels. Only in this state is the Universe understood.”

  “Wonderful,” Ben whispered. He reached his hands to Beam and Amos and they permitted him to touch them. They remained that way for several minutes gathering and sharing their life force.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX – INTRUDERS ON THE DOCK

  Before Ben left the processing room, he helped to prepare the equipment for processing.

  There are some things that have happened that you should know.” Amos said, taking him aside. Beam went to the cabinets to make programming adjustments.

  “Three events. The first is that our Mr. Shields and Mr. Parker will be away from the grounds for some time ... at least until after we depart.”

  “You fired them?”

  “No, let’s just say they have taken some much deserved time off. The second event is that the boats were followed today by some of Jack Fischer’s friends. They came in a helicopter looking for him. He has spoken to them and assures us that their curiosity has been satisfied. However, it may be necessary for you to pay them a visit if they become curious again.”

  “Whatever you s
ay, Chief Commander.” It was the first time Ben had addressed Amos Bright by his official title, which up to know he had had suspected but not confirmed.

  “The final matter is a bit more distressing. When the boats returned here last night, they were followed by another boat. The person on board was not known to us. Hal and Harry wanted to capture it, but the commanders needed to be brought here quickly. They have been using too much energy and were in need of rest and nutrition. Their old skins were almost destroyed. So we had to let the boat escape. The man aboard could not have seen anything extraordinary. I am not too concerned. The boat is called Banshee. It is owned by one Mr. Robert Miner of Coral Gables. Perhaps tomorrow you can call on Mr. Miner and find out why he was following our boats?”

  “Certainly. Mr. Robert Miner will get a visit the first chance we have.”

  “Good. Then we will see you later.”

  Ben left as Amos and Beam continued preparations to process the first recruits of their new army.

  Arnie honked the horn again. Sandy told him to be patient. “Judy will be down in a minute. She said she had a long casting session last night. She’s excited about the job. It pays a lot of money.”

  Arnie, still mulling over the strange sights he had seen the night before, didn’t pay attention. “For someone who wanted to find out about her boyfriend, she sure is taking her time.”

  “What’s eating you, honey?” Sandy asked, concerned. “Everything okay at the office?”

  “Yes. It’s just that Judy got me so worked up about Jack that I’m curious...and worried.”

  “Well, I still think that Jack will have a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

 

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