The Cocoon Trilogy

by David Saperstein

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN - AN ANCIENT CODE BROKEN

  Joe Finley stepped out of the shower and slipped into a white, terrycloth robe. He dried his feet and walked into the sleeping quarters he shared with his wife, Alma, who was resting on their bed.

  “That felt good,” he said. Alma smiled at Joe, and stretched. Her own lavender silk robe slipped open, revealing her svelte body. Joe smiled.

  “What?” she asked coyly, knowing full well why he was smiling. She enjoyed the moment.

  “I will be forever stunned seeing my love, now a woman of eighty, possessing a body like that.” Alma, who during her life on Earth had been a TV news-anchor on a local Boston station, chuckled and shyly closed her robe. She got up and slid off the bed.

  “Why thank you, Sweetheart,” she said. She let her robe slip open again as she walked over to her husband, embraced him, and then kissed him softly on the mouth. “You ain’t so bad looking yourself, Joe Finley,” she whispered. She touched him, feeling the strength of his muscular arm through his robe. “You’re what the kids used to call a hunk.” Joe blushed. His wife had always been the more sexually aggressive during their years of marriage on Earth. “Now for the important question,” she continued, taking her hand away from his arm. “Did you leave me any hot water? I’ve got the smell of that oily, ammonia-laced Klanian Sea on me.”

  “All you want,” he answered. As she walked away toward the bathroom, he lovingly patted her rear.

  “Hold that thought,” she said, over her shoulder. “I don’t believe we’ve ever made love in daytime in this system.”

  “Nothing like another first,” he responded.

  In the Antarean quarters of the Klane base, Commander Beam pondered the day’s events. After the Sloor had departed on their mating flights, the juveniles remained behind. They had kept their distance from the landing party for nearly an hour. Then one of the larger females began to communicate with Marie Amato, who was recording the activities with the Antarean equivalent of a digital camera. Beam had developed a strong attachment to Marie and Paul Amato since they had honored her by naming their daughter, now at Butterfly House, after her.

  “I am not mating, Mrs. Amato,” the high pitched, gentle voice told Marie. “May I approach you?”

  “Yes. Of course. It is welcomed,” Marie answered politely, in the manner the Antareans had taught her years ago. Their approach to contact with newly discovered living beings was always polite and non-threatening. The Brigade was also taught to give the appearance of subservience, by bowing their heads and avoiding eye contact, should the being have visible ocular organs.

  “I bring greetings from Beam,” the young Sloor announced.

  “Oh,” Marie said. “Do you mean you want to communicate with our Antarean commander who is named Beam?” Marie then deferred to Beam, who was nearby. “This young Sloor wishes to talk to you, Commander Beam.” Beam opened her mind to the Sloor, but heard nothing. When she tried to communicate, she met a wall of resistance. The Sloor was blocking.

  “No,” the young Sloor told Marie. “It is your daughter Beam that sends her greetings to you.” Marie was at first confused. “This is to you, and to your husband, Paul,” the young Sloor assured her. “Your daughter tells that she is well and awaits the Mothership visit.” Marie Amato was stunned. She called out to Paul, who was back at the lab, and told him what she had just head – not only about their daughter, but that a Mothership was going to Earth!

  Later, when they had returned to base, Commander Beam questioned Marie Amato as to what had transpired. The Finley’s had not told Beam of the children’s contact with the Sloor. Marie had not been instructed to keep that a secret. She told Beam about the greeting the Sloor had from her daughter. The Antarean commander was very disturbed. If, what Marie Amato said was true, it meant that the children at Butterfly House had developed capabilities far greater than any Antarean knew. And, she reasoned, if the children had been in contact with the Sloor, perhaps they had contacted other beings and species. If so, how many? Where? And why? Had they developed the same communication abilities their parents possessed? Was it possible that they might reach out beyond their own galaxy? And why hadn’t the Brigade shared this information until now?

  Most disturbing of all, it meant they had broken the ancient code of greeting that the Antareans practiced, and had carefully taught the Brigade. True, the children were not officially Brigade members, but she was certain that Bernie and Rose Lewis had been instructed to teach the children the Antarean ways and codes. This code was why Counsel Amos Bright was coming to Klane – to officially greet the Sloor and welcome them into the Antarean circle of allies, friends and trading partners.

  Alma Finley emerged from her shower, eagerly anticipating making love with Joe. She dried herself, and applied a touch of White Shoulders perfume. It was her last bottle from Earth. She only used it for special occasions. One day soon, she planned to wear it when they conceived a child. The Mothership going to Earth was surely a sign that the children were ready to leave. That meant it would be safe to conceive a child and have it raised on Earth for only sixteen years, maybe less, before it could join them in space.

  Alma turned off the light in the bathroom and slipped off her robe. She ran her hands down her rib cage and over her hips. Yes, she did have the body of a woman forty or fifty years younger. “Sooo delightful,” she mused aloud. She opened the bathroom door, expecting to find Joe in bed, feigning sleep to tease her, but eagerly awaiting her presence. Instead, she found him fully dressed, lacing up his boots.

  “Now that’s romantic,” she grumbled. He looked up and blinked, like a deer caught in the headlights.

  “Jesus! You’re gorgeous!” he said, and meant it.

  “Are we going on a hike first?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Huh? A hike? Oh no, Sweetheart. I’m sorry. While you were in the shower, Paul Amato came by. We have to do some damage control. You’d better get dressed, pronto.”

  While Alma dressed, Joe explained what had transpired between the young Sloor and Marie, and how Marie had told Beam about the children’s contact with the Sloor.

  “Darn it, Joe! I told you we should have informed everyone to keep things close to the vest,” Alma scolded.

  “You were right,” Joe agreed. “My goof. Let’s find Beam, and see if we can smooth things over.”

  Joe and Alma apologized, but Beam was not willing to let it go. “I am shocked that you didn’t come to me with this news. Without sharing openly, there is no trust. This is an Antarean mission. You are under my command. We must work together.” Rather than a chastisement of the Finley’s, it sounded as though Beam was trying to assure herself that she was in control of the situation.

  “Of course, Commander Beam,” Alma said. “We are so very sorry.”

  “Yes,” Joe added quickly, “we were going to...”

  “But the code is clear!” Beam interrupted, now more agitated. It was obvious the apology had no effect. “All official welcome into the Antarean circle of trade and friendship must be made by a member of the High Council or a designated ambassador.”

  “We know that,” Joe said. “It was as great a surprise to us as...” Beam interrupted again.

  “Was it? Was it really?” Alma tried again to assuage her anger.

  “Commander Beam, we had no idea the children could communicate this way... Or this far.” Beam ignored her plea.

  “They broke the code of greeting. That is a serious offense.”

  “That seems to be true,” Joe responded. “But we didn’t know... The Sloor inferred that the children greeted them into a much larger family. A family beyond Antares.”

  “Beyond?” Beam was concerned. More questions to be answered. Beyond? Had the children of Butterfly House contacted and allied with other space travelers? From where? And how far did their contact go? Could they, like the Brigade commanders, communicate across galaxies? “Who else knows about this?” she asked.

  “No one off-pl
anet,” Joe lied. Alma understood why. They had to consult the other Brigade commanders, especially the Lewis’s, before this went any further.

  “I want you to message these events to Antares,” Beam ordered. “I want Counsel Bright, Ambassador to Klane, to have this news before he departs for this planet.” She was certain the High Council would have new orders for him and for all intra-galactic missions; perhaps even the inter-galactic ones now underway. “Who knows?” she continued in an accusatory manner, “Who knows what other damage these children might have done, or what mischief they are up to?”

  As Joe and Alma Finley formed a response to Beam’s accusations they were all interrupted by a communication from Paul and Marie Amato, on duty at the site of the Sloor emergence.

  “The Sloor are returning from their mating flight!” There was palpable excitement in Marie Amato’s voice. “Oh, my dear God! The sky is filled with them. There are thousands. Thousands. And they are singing! Joyfully! Can you hear them?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN - ARRIVAL ON LIAST

  A few moments before dawn, the landing party of five Brigade members, led by Commander Frank Hankinson, exited their shuttlecraft and set foot on Bezzolentine-Auerbach-Musial-Prima-Quad-nine. The Finder had chosen a reasonably flat basin surrounded by rolling hills and sparse vegetation. In the distance, were forested mountains. The atmosphere was oxygen rich and breathable; the climate temperate. Humidity readings confirmed an abundance of water on the planet. Gravity was comfortable.

  As they gathered in a circle around their leader, dawn broke. Because of the size of the planet’s red giant star, it was a dawn that went from blue-black, to pink, to bright red, in less two minutes – their first sunrise in a new galaxy. Frank spoke with emotion and ceremony.

  “We are travelers from the Milky Way Galaxy, representing the Antarean High Council and our Brigade. It is with humility and a sense of great privilege that I announce our arrival on this, the first planet reached from our galaxy to this one. We come in peace and offer friendship.”

  The landing party patiently awaited contact from the inhabitants who had greeted them aboard the Mothership when they first entered a planetary orbit. Frank sent out the Antarean universal greeting every five minutes, but there was no response. The red sun rose higher in the sky. There were sightings of bird-like creatures and some evidence of small land animals scurrying about.

  Above, the Mothership completed her nineteenth orbit of the planet and a detailed topographical mapping of the surface. There were indications of several cities and towns. Mission Commander Duartone studied the information and then passed it down to Frank Hankinson.

  The data regarding the planet’s flora and fauna was transmitted to Andrea Hankinson, who was the mission’s biologist.

  “This is a rich planet,” she told her husband as he pondered a route to the nearest settlement. Frank was growing impatient, anxious to meet the being who had greeted him. “More than two thousand various life-forms have already been identified and catalogued,” Andrea continued. Frank wasn’t too surprised. The atmosphere, soil, water, and sunlight, albeit in the red spectrum, held all the necessities for abundant life. It was a familiar occurrence in his own galaxy.

  As Frank was briefing four Brigade members for a scouting party, a land vehicle appeared on the crest of a hill to the east. As before, a voice greeted them in English.

  “Welcome to Liast, Geriatric Brigade Commander Frank Hankinson. Welcome on behalf of our government and leaders. May we approach?” The sight and sound of beings in another galaxy sent a shiver down Frank’s spine. Adrenaline coursed through his body. This was the first time a Brigade commander was allowed to greet a new species on behalf of the Antareans.

  “Yes. Please approach.” The vehicle, a diminutive metallic hover transport, glided down the hill toward them. As it did, Frank forwarded the planet’s name that the inhabitant used, Liast, up to the Mothership’s Finder. Bezzolentine-Auerbach-Musial-Prima-Quad-nine immediately became Bezzolentine/Auerbach/Liast/Prima-Quad-nine. The information was logged in and coded Bezo/Auer/Liast-Pr-Q-9.

  The vehicle came to a stop and settled to the ground. Its engine shut down. A door in the front opened and two Liastans emerged. Compared to Earth-humans, they were very small; about three feet. Their two eyes were wide apart and large, wrapping around their nearly perfectly round heads, giving them the ability to see forward three dimensionally, as well as individually on either side, like birds. Their mouths were small and close to the bottom of their faces. They had no chins. Frank could not see any nostrils until one Liastan turned around. They were in the rear of their heads, and quite large, with flaps that opened and closed with each deep breath, much like a whale’s blow-hole. One of the Liastans stepped forward and spread his short, stubby arms. He then extended his surprisingly large, seven-fingered hands outward, palms up, in the universal sign of greeting and peace.

  “Welcome to Liast, Commander Frank Hankinson. We welcome you and send you greetings from the children of Butterfly House.” Hank was stunned. Duartone, who was monitoring the conversation aboard the Mothership, knew nothing of the children. He thought the Liastan was referring to the young people on Liast.

  “We thank you,” Hankinson answered while returning the universal peace sign to the Liastan. “Now I understand how it is you know my native language.”

  “Yes. Your children taught us. We are anxious to meet them in person. Do you know when they are coming?”

  “What is this one talking about?” Duartone telepathed down to Frank. “What children?”

  “It’s a long story. If the High Council approves, I’ll fill you in later,” was his silent answer. As he sent it, he wondered if the Liastans were telepathic beings. Frank studied their features for a sign that they had heard his telepath to Duartone, but there was nothing apparent to suggest they had.

  Duartone, who had been so disturbed that the Liastans invited only Brigade people down to the surface, was now doubly annoyed that Commander Hankinson and the Antarean High Council had withheld important information from him. Who were these children and what was Butterfly House? But he accepted that this was not the time, nor place, to press for explanations. The primary mission was to make friends with this newly discovered race on behalf of the Antarean civilization and its interests. Yet, as this was an initial inter-galactic mission, he did not want to set precedent either. The dilemma was solved graciously by Frank Hankinson.

  “I am not the leader of this mission,” Frank explained to the Liastan. “So, on behalf of the Antarean High Council, and my leader, Mission Commander Duartone the Antarean, I greet you and offer you the friendship and the inter-galactic facilities of the Antarean race.” Both Liastans stepped forward and bowed.

  “I am Tellic,” the one who had been speaking responded.

  “And I am Shinner,” said the second, “the leader of our city. We welcome you. It would please us if you would come with us now.”

  “That will be out pleasure,” Shinner. Tellic then touched a device on his clothing. A much larger hover craft appeared on top of the hill and descended toward the group.

  “This vehicle will accommodate your landing party,” Tellic said. “The journey is short.” The larger craft settled to the ground and its door opened.

  “Please enter,” Shinner said. As the Brigade members walked toward the vehicle, Shinner walked with Frank.

  “There are others from our galaxy, and three other galaxies, in residence with us at this time. They knew of your journey and are here to greet you. Like many beings in our Universe who have been contacted by your offspring in Butterfly House, they have many questions to ask regarding your children.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN - THE GATHERING CONCLUDES

  The Brigade’s reunion gala was winding down by the time Head Counsel Spooner and the rest of the Antarean High Council made their entrance. They were met with applause and cheers for the up-coming trip to Earth. Panatoy was still observing Amos Bright’s activities. Ruth had aske
d him to keep an eye on Spooner as well. He enjoyed the role and was happy to oblige. Being a chemist wasn’t nearly as much fun as using his ultra-sensitive sight and hearing to gather information for his dear mate and her Brigade. So, with his tall, thin, blue body, now covered with a suit that protected his sensitive skin from the hall’s incandescent light, and towering above everyone in the hall, Panatoy feigned boredom and tuned in on the activities of Amos Bright, Spooner, and if they were close, other members of the Antarean High Council.

  Spooner graciously greeted as many Brigade members as she could. Her thin lips spread across her narrow face in a frozen, perpetual smile. Her narrow, tapered fingers barely touched Earth-human flesh as she glided through the hall.

  Amos Bright, who had been seated with Ben and Mary Green and three of the parents of children at Butterfly House, noted Spooner’s arrival and excused himself to join her and the other council members. As he did, Bright scanned the hall. His senses delineated between the body temperature of Earth-humans and the cooler Antareans. His height, well over seven feet, allowed him a good view of the crowd. Many had returned to dancing and eating. He looked to see if any Brigade commanders were watching him, but all were involved in conversation. He ignored Panatoy, whose height was a bit more than Bright’s. He took notice that the Subax chemist stood next to Ruth and seemed bored.