The Sloor young were everywhere -- in far greater numbers than that last emergence. They, too, were very different. In the prior emergence, the babies had been lethargic and disoriented, clinging to the adults as they broke the surface of the ocean. But this time they were active and aggressive, playing with one another, emitting high-pitched sounds of gleeful excitement.
As more of the Sloor swam to shore and stepped onto land, they spread their wings to allow the warm Klanian sun to dry them. They looked like huge cormorants. The larger adult males displayed magnificent multi-colored wings, framing their bodies like blazing rainbows. There was audible contact between them and the smaller females who also dried their coal-black wings in the sun. They had a language – something they had not revealed before. A startling part of their metamorphosis was that while the adults were air breathing and still retained gills, the young were breathing the Klanian atmosphere directly through air holes that had replaced gills.
Joe and Alma Finley, joined by Paul and Marie Amato, and three “Ants”, set up an observation post well back from the shoreline. One of Joe Finley’s duties was to notify the Antarean High Council of the emergence via the Brigade commanders physically closest to the council. That would be Ruth Charnofsky, now on Antares for the gathering. But Finley was moved by a force he didn’t quite understand to direct the message toward Commander Bernie Lewis, on Earth. As he sent it, he knew that the commanders on Antares would also receive the message and would understand the need to keep the communiqué secret.
“The Sloor have emerged,” he began. “They have changed radically. They are larger. They have developed audible language. We are now observing from a distance but will try to contact them directly. Since this emergence was not anticipated to happen so soon, no council member is present. Commander Beam has assumed the mantle of Ambassador. We expect her on site momentarily. What we have observed is an unprecedented evolutionary event - a quantum leap. The Sloor have metamorphosed beyond the amphibian stage. The young are air breathing and without gills. The adults are now feathered and very tall – over thirty feet tall. This is fantastic! Bernie, these advances are stunning.”
As Joe Finley watched the Sloor continue to emerge and gather on land, spreading their wings to dry, a thought entered his consciousness.
“Do not inform the Antarean High Council about our emergence. You must wait until we meet your children!” Then he realized it was not a thought, but a distinct voice. Joe felt his wife’s hand on his arm.
“It’s the Sloor,” Alma Finley told her husband. “They are contacting us telepathically!” She had received the same message. “But how can they know about the children and the council?”
“I don’t know,” Joe answered. Then the disembodied voice returned.
“We know your children. They have been teaching us for two cycles now. They have cautioned us to speak to only you, and to block the others you travel with.”
“How can this be?” Alma asked, telepathically. “How did they teach you?”
“They have visited us. They have visited many, in fact.”
“Many? Many Sloor?” Joe asked.
“Many beings. Many species,” was the incredible answer. The voice was warm and comforting, much in the same tone that their children used when they sent loving messages to their parents. “That’s why the revelation this Sloor made about the children visiting Klane and other places sounded so credible,” Joe thought to himself. But how was direct contact possible? The children had never left Earth. Or had they? With the exception of the Martindale kids, Joe knew all the children had been away from Cayman Brac for three years, ostensibly traveling around Earth for their education. But that didn’t explain how they could know the Sloor.
A large adult, whose wings had dried, made his way toward the observers.
“One of them is coming,” Marie Amato pointed out. At that same moment, the Antarean commander, Beam, arrived on the scene. She wore the flowing red and black robe of an Antarean Ambassador over her protective clothing. She stepped forward to greet the large Sloor adult. He was a giant, towering over the seven foot Beam by twenty-five feet. His wings, now folded, settled neatly along his curved, protruding spinal column.
“We are arrived,” the Sloor said telepathically, to all the visitors present. The voice was a deep, deliberate base. Beam lifted her arms above her head, palms up, fingers apart and pointed outward - a sign of greeting and non-aggression. The towering Sloor bowed slightly and spread his wondrously colored wings. Fully extended, their span was over fifty feet. The feathers were more metallic than silken. They glittered like shimmering points of multi-tinted fire in the red, Klanian daylight.
“You are welcome to our home,” the Sloor announced. He gently folded his wings.
“On behalf of the Antarean High Council,” Beam responded, “I thank you for your welcome. On behalf of all Antareans, I greet you as their Ambassador. These, my companions, are from the planet Earth. We ask permission to remain on your planet to communicate with you.”
“To what purpose?” the Sloor giant asked. Beam then solemnly uttered the ancient Antarean first-greeting, as it has been delivered innumerable times on newly discovered planets, to all newly discovered races, species and life forms.
“To develop a bond of friendship. To share our knowledge of the Universe, and all that we have discovered. To invite you to share with us, and other beings of peace, the bounty of The Master’s creation.”
“Yes. I understand,” the Sloor announced. “You may stay for now.”
“Thank you,” Beam answered.
“You are welcome until we are all arrived and mated. Then we will meet again and see to your needs. You may observe in silence.” He turned abruptly toward the sea and, as he did, he spread his great wings, flapped them twice and, with a rush of air, rose majestically and rapidly into the bright-red, cloudless Klanian sky.
His assent was a signal to the others. Hundreds of winged adults, males and females, rose into the sky with him. To Joe Finley, who had been an avid fly fisherman on Earth, the ascending Sloor appeared like a hatch of giant insects that had emerged from underwater and were rising in their mating flight.
“Are your recording this?” Beam asked Joe Finley.
“Of course. From the moment they emerged, Ambassador Beam.”
CHAPTER SEVEN - THE CHILDREN’S JOURNEY
The Lewis’s had a great deal of planning to do for the visit. First on the agenda was to test the Probeship’s electronic and guidance systems and fire up the engines. The ship had not been flown for more than a year. It would be needed to shuttle visitors from wherever the Antarean Mothership parked, should the commander of the vessel decide that an Earth landing was risky. And there was always the possibility of an emergency evacuation. The Probeship had to be ready to work as a submersible as well as an aircraft. Every contingency had to be anticipated. Should alien visitors be discovered, the media frenzy would quickly grow into a circus and become overwhelming to the visitors and their mission.
Although Bernie Lewis was the Probeship’s pilot, he had also trained Rose to operate it. Twice in the past five years they had taken the diminutive spacecraft to the moon and back. On the last trip, Rose navigated and piloted both ways, proving her proficiency.
In spite of the news of the impending visit, Alicia and Phil Margolin decided to follow the children’s daily schedule. After breakfast, the children cleaned their rooms, then gathered for their daily exercise session, to be led by Laga Martindale, As always, it would be rigorous. Laga was a physical fitness devotee. At six-foot five-inches, and two-hundred thirty-six pounds, Laga was a robust Penditan specimen. Since the children’s recent return from the outside world, Laga had taken upon himself to keep everyone in top physical condition. His motivation was not altogether altruistic. Long ago, his parents had decided that when feasible, they would bring their children to live on Turmoline, with their Penditan tribe.
To that end, Laga’s mother, Tern, made sure h
er children would be ready to take their place among her tribe’s hunters. She schooled Laga in her tribal ways and in the use of Penditan weapons - the Sharr—a large and powerful crossbow; the Banetto—a throwing club that resembled a boomerang; and the awesome Kalkacho — a fifteen-inch, double-bladed Penditan hunting knife made of metals mined, fired, alloyed and forged on Turmoline. Laga’s younger brother, Lucas, was almost old enough to begin his lessons. Their younger sister, Rode, would have to wait a few more years.
When the warm-up was finished, Laga announced the morning’s four-part program to the children.
“We will begin with a mile swim - six times back and forth across horseshoe cove.” The day was going to be a hot one and the children cheered at the thought of a cool swim. Laga, serious as ever, continued, “Then we will scale the cliffs below Butterfly House. Teams of two. Full equipment.” A few of the children groaned. “At the top of the cliff we will gather for fifteen minutes of Sento.” This was the Penditan version of Tai-chi. “And we will end today’s session with a two-mile run around the perimeter of Cayman Brac’s magnificent airport,” Laga said wryly. It was a tiny field with a dirt runway and a one-room, one-story stucco building that served as a terminal, taxi station and ticket counter. There were two planes that flew from Grand Cayman to Little Cayman, to Cayman Brac, and back.
As the Lewis’s prepared to inspect the Probeship, Bernie sensed the incoming message from Joe Finley. While developing the confidence to use the new form of communication, he was still uncertain as to its accuracy. One thing he knew. Reception required his complete concentration.
“I need to clear my mind,” he told Rose. She was not a commander, but understood what he meant, and went off to visit a tidy vegetable garden that she tended in a clearing on the southeast side of Butterfly House. Bernie hurried down to the dock and boarded the “Razzamatazz”, a forty-foot Ocean Yacht that belonged to Phil Doyle. Phil was an old and trusted friend of Jack Fischer and the Brigade. He was visiting Butterfly House from his home on Isla Morada, in the Florida Keys.
As Bernie settled down in the fighting chair, bolted firmly to the teak aft deck, he observed the children completing their swim. All twenty-two were there, led by the imposing figure of the bronze giant, Laga. “How far they have come”, Bernie Lewis mused aloud. His chest swelled with pride, knowing that Rose and he had fulfilled their promise to the children’s parents, keeping their charges safe and undetected. The children emerged from the azure water - strong and self-assured, and, he suspected, ready to strike out on their own. But whatever plans they had, they had kept secret.
The message from Joe Finley on Klane questioned something about the children that Bernie did not totally grasp. But he knew that whatever was being sent would be implanted in that part of his genetic makeup that they, the Brigade commanders, now called their “library.” The message’s detailed contents would be stored, like e-mail waiting to be retrieved, opened and read carefully. He could determine the sense of the message, which portended a change in the evolutionary order of things on Klane. And Finley suspected a link to the children. But that was impossible unless... Was it possible that the children were able to communicate with non-humanoid beings across the galaxy? How? And if so, why had they kept that a secret too?
As Bernie absorbed Joe’s message, the children assaulted the steep cliffs below Butterfly House in teams of two. He watched their lithe, sinewy bodies, linked by state-of-the-art mountaineering hardware, move up and among the steep, slippery facade like a herd of big horn sheep might maneuver along a Rocky Mountain ridge. Yes, he thought, they were certainly developed far beyond their sixteen years.
Bernie’s mind raced back through the years that Rose and he had spent at Butterfly House. The Brigade had communicated many of their experiences back to the Lewis’s and the children, but nothing could substitute for actually being out there in deep-space. Yet Rose and Bernie had no regrets.
The early years had been the most stressful, when the children were infants requiring constant nurturing, love and attention. The absence of the children’s real parents had worried Rose and Bernie. Could they be an acceptable substitute for so many? Through the years, as Antarean Motherships carried Brigade parents far from their offspring, messages of love and caring were sent back and forth from parent to child. That had eased the Lewis’s burdens somewhat.
Bernie sat in the fighting chair watching the children climb. “You guys say you’re ready to leave,” he said aloud. “Well, so are we.” He and Rose had not aged. In fact, they felt and looked much younger than when they had first settled in on Cayman Brac. “We’ve done well,” he thought. The secret of Butterfly House was secure. The Margolin’s had fulfilled their education responsibility brilliantly, although at times it was difficult to distinguish the pupils from the teachers. The physical trainers, Peter and Tern Martindale, and now Laga, had kept the children on an excellent diet and exercise plan from day one. If the approaching visit was to ascertain their ability to travel in deep-space, Bernie was now certain they had the strength and endurance necessary to pass the test.
And Jack Fischer, Phil Doyle and Mad Man Mazuski, the only Earth-humans who knew about the children, had performed their functions superbly as contacts and conduits of earthly information and supplies, as had Mr. DePalmer, their secretive Miami banker.
Within the secure boundaries of the compound, the children had flourished. Their extraordinary immune systems kept them disease-free. At the age of two years, seven months, their formal education began. But in fact, they had been absorbing knowledge since before they were born. By six, they had collectively reached the equivalent of ninth grade. By ten, they were high school graduates. By twelve, they had completed undergraduate work in Liberal Arts, Science, History, Astronomy, Biology and Political Science. All the time, they were communicated information about the galaxy from their parents and Brigade commanders. On occasion, they heard from Antarean commanders Amos Bright and Beam, although that had recently ended. Then Bernie recalled, with some trepidation, that in their thirteenth year, all of the children, except Laga, announced that they wanted to leave the island and expand their horizons. They said there was nothing more for them to learn on Cayman Brac. They wanted to explore their home planet and meet its inhabitants in person. At that point, Bernie and Rose Lewis, like most parents, knew they had to let go.
Forged high school and college transcripts were prepared through Jack Fischer. Applications were sent out to colleges, universities and businesses around the world. The children were accepted wherever they applied. For nearly three years, they had roamed the Earth, first singly, and then in twos and threes.
Some attended school, garnering their Master’s and Doctorate degrees. Others worked in business, on farms and even labored in factories. They traveled with the Bedouin; read law at Harvard; mined diamonds in South Africa; studied medicine at the Sorbonne; herded sheep in the Australian outback; taught Spanish to Russian children in Siberia; programmed super-computers in Silicon Valley; helped design hydro-electric projects in China; fed the hungry in Ethiopia and Sudan; studied the destruction of rain forests in Brazil and Malaysia; tracked El Niño from Polynesia to Texas; and confirmed the potential devastation that greenhouse gases posed to life on Earth. Their activities involved every continent, most cultures, and many languages.
They stayed away from the political, ethnic and racial conflicts that plagued humanity, as the 21st century began. With their powers they knew they could influence human minds. Although they had left the island to explore the world as individuals, what one learned, all learned; what one experienced, all experienced; what one sensed, all sensed. They studied, observed and pondered Earth’s problems, potentials and future. But they chose not to interfere. At least not yet. At least not directly.
Eight months ago, they began to return, one at a time and unannounced. They had grown, physically and in wisdom far beyond their nearly sixteen years. They had matured to a level of intellect previously unknown
in children of any age. Something profound had occurred. Before they traveled, individually the children had superior intellect. In twos and threes, their capacities increased tenfold. But now, because they all refused to be tested, their teachers and guardians could not say how much their knowledge and power had increased, especially when all twenty-two focused in concert. Laga, who had not gone on the journey with his peers, was silent on the matter. Bernie sensed the children’s abilities were far beyond anything a Brigade commander possessed, or for that matter, the power of the ten commanders combined.
The Lewis’s withheld their opinions about the changes in the children. They would wait and watch until they knew what it meant. But now, with the apparent news that the Sloor on Klane had somehow been contacted and were communicating with the children, Bernie confided to Rose that he was relieved about the mission from Antares.
“The kids know what they must do,” Bernie told his wife. “My bones tell me they have a special mission of their own.”
CHAPTER EIGHT - THE HIGH COUNCIL
While the Brigade enjoyed their reunion, the five commanders were respectfully guided to their seats facing the fifteen Antarean High Council members, and the council leader, Spooner. The atmosphere was charged. Ruth Charnofsky sensed that the meeting would be difficult. The Antareans were keenly interested in the disposition of the children. Some, including Amos Bright, questioned the wisdom of making the trip to Earth at this time.
Spooner, ever the diplomat, began by welcoming Brigade Chief Commander Ruth Charnofsky, then the Perlman’s and Green’s, thanking each for their service. She pointed out that at that very moment, Brigade Commanders Joe and Alma Finley were on Klane on an important mission; Bernie Lewis was serving on Earth at Butterfly House; and Brigade Commanders Hank Hankinson and Betty Franklin were about to initiate inter-galactic travel.
The Cocoon Trilogy Page 54