The Cocoon Trilogy

by David Saperstein

  The President stepped forward onto the fantail of his yacht. The commanders stood behind him.

  “My dear fellow Americans. I know that you still have a journey ahead of you tonight. A journey that will take you to the secure safety and expertise you require. I will personally visit each of you very soon. So all I want to say now, on behalf of your country, of your fellow Americans, is a sincere and heartfelt . . . welcome home.” He waved to the group and they applauded back. The President’s yacht backed away and headed to the USS Simi.

  In a matter of a few minutes the Brigade couples and commanders boarded the Manta III and Terra Times. Slowly the two fishing boats backed away from the Watership, as did the speedboat carrying the babies. The President’s yacht was already being lifted on board USS Simi. The beams of light from the Probeship retracted, and water once again covered the membrane. Then Amos Bright lowered the Probecraft down to the opening of the Watership where, in the near darkness of the warm Gulf Stream current, the three off-planet fathers—Panatoy the Subax, Tom the Desteran, Dr. Manterid from Betch, and Tern, the pregnant female Penditan from Turmoline, each wearing special protective covering and encapsulated in customized containers, were loaded aboard the Probeship. Their journey to Elliot Key and beyond would be secret, for as far as those who had helped with the landing were concerned, the only passengers aboard the spaceship were Earth-humans returning for a special visit, and the Antaean crew that no one saw.

  As the Probeship moved away the lights aboard the Watership dimmed, and it, with its storage tank, sank quietly, settling on the ocean bottom, southwest of the six-hundred-foot wreck. The Simi and Hapsas remained on station. The Orca headed south to the Stones. It would be joined there later by the Probeship and the difficult task of moving the cocoons to the Watership would begin. The Presidential party returned by helicopter to Shaw AFB and from there to Washington. All the other craft were well on their way to Elliot Key, where eight Marine helicopters would ferry the newly arrived visitors to Homestead AFB, and a waiting C-5A would take them to their new home in Houston.

  Everything went like clockwork, a tribute to Captain Walkly and the people in his command. The C-5A was met in the early dawn by Dr. Khawaja and his team, who now took over the responsibility of bringing new life into this old and troubled planet.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – SETTLING IN HOUSTON

  After an uneventful flight from Homestead AFB to Houston, and as the Brigade members and commanders settled into their quarters Dr. Khawaja called an emergency meeting after learning that the gas mixtures were showing signs of growing instability in the living chambers constructed for the four non Earth-humans. It was initially thought to be a computer malfunction, then a programming problem. Now it was unclear. The possibility of design and construction failures was now on the table as well. There was time to correct the situation, but not that much. Beam told those present that the off-planet beings, three males and one female, would be stable in their sealed environmental containers for another fifty-one hours. “But I do not have specific knowledge,” she told Undersecretary of Health. “My training is biology and galactic navigation. What I can confirm is that so far the basic requirements are functional.” In the end Dr. Khawaja would have responsibility for choosing the final course of action.

  The chief chemical engineer, a man Khawaja had recruited from the Army’s chemical, biological and radiological testing program at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds, was cautious. “The mixtures of gasses we had to manufacture for these folks were quite exotic. There just wasn’t time to test every condition of temperature and pressure, but we feel we are within the parameters that the Antarean scientists supplied.”

  “Perhaps,” Beam said, “but our containers are at variance with those in the chambers you have constructed.”

  “They’re small differences,” Angela Lippman, the computer specialist responsible for the program that controlled the environments said. “I think they’ll be just fine in there.”

  “We are talking about lives here, Ms. Lippman,” Dr. Khawaja interjected. “Think is not good enough.” The programmer was embarrassed by his abrupt remark.

  There was an awkward moment of silence in the room. Beam received a thought from one of her Antarean crew. “There is one being here who may be able to give us definite parameters for all the environments.” That got everyone’s attention. “Dr. Manterid, the mate of Ellie-Mae Boyd, is a chemist from Betch.”

  “Sure. But he’s in a container,” Angela Lippman said sarcastically, still smarting from Dr. Khawaja’s chiding.

  “He has been able to survive for some minutes in Earth atmosphere,” Beam said. “He did so with his mate.”

  “You’re certain?” Dr. Khawaja asked Beam.

  “Yes, sir. I am certain. You can confirm that with Mrs. Boyd.”

  An hour later Dr. Manterid was removed from his container. A scuba tank with pure nitrogen and an ultra violet lamp was supplied which that enabled him to work for the rest of the day with the engineers, doctors and chemists as they fine-tuned the off-planet living quarters. They completed his first to that once it was controlled and functioning he was able to assist in stabilizing the other three. The only unresolved problem was the intensity of ultraviolet radiation that Panatoy the Subaxian, Commander Ruth Charnofsky’s mate, required. Dr. Manterid’s examined the room that Panatoy would inhabit. He suggested they graduate the ultraviolet exposure across the room, producing different zones of radiation. When Panatoy was there he could tell them which was the most comfortable. They could then adjust the ultra violet accordingly. It worked. With ten hours to spare, the living quarters were functioning, and the off-planet visitors were comfortably in residence with their mates in adjacent Earth environment rooms.

  After the Brigade parents were settled into their quarters, the first order of business was to perform a complete physical examinations on each woman to determine general state of health, the health and development of the fetuses, and the chronological birth schedule they might expect to have. IN a part of the medical facilities on the top or green floor of the Space Medicine Center, units were converted into nine completely outfitted examination rooms. Each was staffed and equipped to perform the general examination as well as state-of-the-art ultrasound that enabled the doctors to observe the fetus in minute detail. Four highly specialized fetal surgeons in the country were also present, should any abnormality present itself. Their skills and their high-tech equipment enabled them to do lifesaving surgery on a fetus within the amniotic sac.

  Mary Green, barely four months pregnant, resisted taking up residence with the others Brigade mother on the third floor. She had conceived on Antares just before the Probeship left for Earth. She believed her time would be better spent working with the other commanders. Ben was insistent, but Mary adamantly resisted. Then she was visited by Bess Perlman. The two women had not had a chance to be alone until now. Mary’s room was bright and sunny. The President had sent a bouquet of a dozen roses to each woman, and their sweet scent permeated the air.

  Because time had been short, little attention had been paid to decoration. All of the rooms were Spartan, but neat. The couples had the choice of a large single bed or twins. They all chose the single bed. There was basic furniture and fixtures, a bath with tub and shower and a dining and living area. The Brigade traveled with little luggage, mostly personal items and uniform clothing. Their work on different planets required such a large variety of clothing that it was impossible to travel with all of it. In almost every place they visited, garments were supplied by their guests. The only exceptions were trips to unexplored planets. In those cases, the Antareans supplied the Brigade.

  One of the amenities offered by Khawaja’s staff was a large variety of clothing for the returning Earth-humans. For many of the women it was the first time they had been wearing something other than uniforms or off-planet dress. It was fun to see the latest fashions, but processing and life out among the stars had changed the Brigade. Those thi
ngs were no longer important. All they were interested in now was comfortable maternity wear. Mary Green was still in unifrom.

  “You’ll have to start wearing maternity clothing soon,” Bess Perlman commented as she watched Mary Green cross the room on her way to get more coffee. She stopped and sniffed her roses President Teller sent. Many things that they had been without for the past five years now tasted and smelled wonderfully strange.

  “I guess. This guy is going to be a buster.”

  “A boy? For sure?” “I hope so.” Mary said as she poured more coffee from the carafe supplied by the kitchen on the first floor. There was a printed menu. The visitors were served either in their rooms at any hour or in a central dining room during fixed hours. Room service was twenty-four hours a day.

  “Well, they can tell you that with the ultrasound,” Bess said as positively as she dared, knowing Mary was anxious about her pregnancy.

  “I don’t want to know. Ben doesn’t either. We want to believe it will be a boy. You know…did I ever tell you that we lost a son in Viet Nam?”

  “Yes. Scott, wasn’t it?”

  Mary nodded and sat down across from her old friend. They had not seen one another in more than three years. Telepathing was not the same as being face to face. “We should get a Mah Jong game going here,” Mary continued, recalling how the four of them, Bess, Rose, Alma and she sat for hours playing the ancient Chinese game that had been adopted by immigrant Jewish women living on the lower East Side of New York in neighborhoods adjacent to Chinatown. When shopping, the women observed Chinese women playing the game in the street and learned it Bess smiled, remembering their daily Mah Jong game at the condo in Florida.

  “What if it’s not a boy?” Bess asked. “Will you be disappointed?”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know, Bess. It’s not really important.” Mary had wondered about talking to Bess about her miscarriage. Now she felt stupid worrying about the sex of her baby when Bess had lost hers.

  “It’s important that you take care of yourself, Mary,” Bess said softly. “I wish I’d been able to get here before . . .you know…losing our baby.”

  “I’m so sorry, Bess.”

  “The said it couldn’t be helped. Nature’s way. But please don’t be foolish. Don’t take chances. We . . . you came all the way to our home-planet to have your baby. Betty, Rose Alma and I will care for the others. The men have things well in hand. You have to promise you’ll listen to the doctors.” Bess was a dear old friend, pleading and making sense. It was a voice Mary had not heard for so long, but remembered well. She smiled at her old friend.

  “Okay. I promise. And thank you.” Mary stood. Bess stood. They embraced.

  “That feel good,” Bess said. The parted and sat down.

  “Do you think that we, I mean commanders…that the special processing we had…that we might not be able to. . .” It was hard for her to ask. but Bess understood. Besides herself, Mary Green and Ruth Charnofsky were the only pregnant commanders. And Ruth had mated with an off-planet male, so her case might be the same as two Earth-humans mating.

  “I think it makes no difference. Art and I lost our baby because it was not meant to be. As Beam said, it was not part of the Master’s plan. I accept that now. You be smart. Relax and let these doctors take care of you.”

  Mary smiled and nodded. “Okay. I go upstairs tomorrow.”

  “And be sure that Beam is involved too. She seems to have definite ideas about why all of this has happened to us, to the Brigade. Her people, the Antarean council, assigned her a special mission . . aside from the medical aspect.”

  “What is it?”

  “She said some on the council believe our children are special. They call them a new race in the Master’s plan. If its true, then its one of the most powerful signs the Antareans have that they are chosen to execute the Master’s grand plan.”

  For a moment both women stared at one another. There had been little, if any, discussion about the Brigade member’s religious thoughts regarding their leaving Earth and their new life. Perhaps some of them had brought it up while making their decision to go, but as a group, nothing had been discussed openly. To hear that Antarean council considered this about the Brigade’s offspring was curious.

  “Do the others know about this?” Mary asked.

  “No. Beam said that if she is asked she will speak about it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – EXPLANATION

  The return trip aboard Air Force One had been jubilant. Alicia Sanchez and Phillip Margolin were congratulated several times by the President and Secretary Mersky. By the time they landed at Dulles International both young people were floating on a cloud of success.

  “I want to see you two tomorrow afternoon in my office,” Gideon Mersky had commanded in a friendly, fatherly voice. “We’ve still got to get that Watership and storage tank launched and out of here in a few weeks.”

  “Yes, sir,” the young scientists had said in unison. They stood next to the DOD limousine as Mersky closed the door and ordered the car to take him to the Pentagon. It was six A.M. The second DOD limo waited for Margolin. Dr. Sanchez and he walked slowly to the waiting stretch. They were euphoric.

  “I can’t sleep,” she said. “It was the greatest night of my life.”

  “It’s not over,” he replied, looking at his watch. “The boss said he wants to see us this afternoon. Why not keep the flavor going?”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “How about breakfast at my apartment, and we take it from there?”

  “To where?” she asked as they got into the limo.

  “That,” he said, “as Shakespeare wrote, is not in ourselves, dear Alicia, but in the stars.” The car began to slowly pull away as the driver waited for instructions.

  “You’ve got that backwards,” Alicia corrected him.

  “I hope so,” he answered. “The Watergate apartments,” he instructed the driver. Then he kissed her. She put her arms around him and kissed him back . . . hard, long and wet.

  The DOD, NASA and the White House had their hands full with inquiries from the press, complaints from foreign governments including NATO, and outrage from the Soviet Union about the SSP experiment. The party line was simply that the test had been for peaceful purposes, namely “An added protection for our rapidly deteriorating ozone layer . . .” NASA announced that the program looked promising, but there was much data yet to be analyzed. They stressed that unexpected meteor colliding with the larger solar screen and pulling it into the atmosphere destroyed some critical data inconclusive. Margo McNeil briefed the White House press corps the morning after what the media was calling the “Fire-in-the-Sky Show” She followed NASA’s lead and only added that, “ the President was disappointed and has asked for a review of the entire SSP project.” He felt, she went on, that perhaps we launched too soon even though it was an unexpected event, the meteor, that caused the test to be inconclusive.

  The Secretary of Defense had a different problem to handle. His counterpart in the Soviet Union, Marshal Pavel Kuzkonin, was on the hot line to the Pentagon moments after the test concluded. Their hot line was not a telephone, but a sophisticated series of word processors, translators, teletype machines and printers. The printed word is a far better tool when discussing details at a high level.

  “Good morning, Mr. Secretary,” the Marshal’s message began. “We send greetings. The purpose of our contact to you this morning is to voice, in the strongest terms possible, our dismay and displeasure at your unauthorized use of international outer space last night between 0100 and 0330 hours Eastern Standard Time. This is a clear violation of the International Space Treaty accords signed by the United States of America and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics two years ago in Phoenix, Arizona. Specifically, the agreement prohibits the use of space for weapons, or weapons defense research. The grave consequences of this flagrant violation are being discussed today at the highest levels of our government.”

  The mes
sage was clocked and answered: “Received. Please stay on the line.” Gideon Mersky was prepared for the Soviets to be annoyed, but this was very strong language. As prearranged with President Teller, he responded.

  “Good morning, Marshal Kuzkonin. To go straight to the point, we do not believe our SSP test yesterday was a violation of the Phoenix accords. In fact, we can prove they were in keeping with the stated purpose of the treaty - namely the peaceful exploration of space for the benefit of the entire planet. The Soviet Union is a major user of fluorocarbons, which research shows have a damaging effect on our precious ozone layer. The SSP is designed to protect the Earth. It is in no way a weapon or a defensive tool. The test was done on short notice because perfect weather conditions in the test area suddenly emerged, and because our scientists are predicting severe sunspot activity in the next six-month period. I trust this information will satisfy your government. In addition, may I now formally invite you and your staff to be my personal guests if and when we attempt another such test. As I am sure your scientists have reported, our test last night was a failure, due in part to the unexpected arrival of a meteor in the test zone. My best wishes to your family.”

  Mersky’s communication was answered - “Received. Good-bye.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN – STRANGE COMMUNICATION

  It took two days for all the expectant mothers to be completely tested. All of the fetuses were viable and appeared normal. The three human mothers who had mated with off-planet males and the one pregnant off-planet female, Tern, also appeared to be carrying normal humanoid babies. The only abnormal event occurred when Dr. Yee requested a second amniocentesis from Ruth Charnofsky. The obstetrician performing the procedure was Dr. Celia Fogelnest, a woman from Columbia Presbyterian Hospital’s world-renowned Obstetric and Pediatric Clinic. When the long needle was inserted into the amniotic sac and fluid extracted for the second time in so many days, the fetus, a combination of Subax and Earth-human that was being observed ultrasonically, suddenly turned and grabbed at the intrusion in its warm, safe fluid world. Dr. Yee observed the baby’s unexpected movement at the same time Dr. Fogelnest turned her attention to drawing out enough amniotic fluid. Dr. Yee, his instincts still razor-keen despite his aging body, quickly reached over the examination table, firmly grabbed Dr. Fogelnest’s hand, extracting the long needle just as the fetus grabbed at it.