It took a moment for Bright to locate Gideon Mersky, who was still in the clutches of Annabella Costa. He caught Mersky’s eye and beckoned him. Bright was suspicious of Costa’s sexual control over Mersky. He made a mental note to look into her Brigade record.
“Duty calls,” Mersky told his paramour. “I have to see Amos Bright for a moment.” Annabella smiled, as she glanced at the tall Antarean Counsel.
“I did notice that, Darlin’. Your master calls.” Her voice was soft, but Mersky didn’t miss the cynical edge of her words. He moved away from her quickly.
Panatoy bent over and whispered to Ruth that Bright and Mersky were on the move. She watched the two meet and exchange a brief word, then walk together toward the advancing Spooner.
“Listen to them carefully, Panatoy, my love. It is most important.” The Subaxian nodded and raised himself to his full height.
“I have the great pleasure of introducing Gideon Mersky, Head Counsel Spooner,” Bright said, as he bowed respectfully. “Mister Mersky is our first non-Brigade Earth-human visitor.” Spooner extended her hand.
“Welcome to Antares, Mister Mersky. Counsel Bright has told me you will be joining the Brigade.”
“Thank you, Ma’am. It is a fascinating pleasure to be here. I had no idea...”
“No,” Spooner interrupted, “how could you?” For a moment, Mersky was taken aback. Had the Head Counsel been rude to him, or was her curt remark an Antarean joke of sorts?
“You’re right, Ma’am. I could not. Not in my wildest dreams imagine...”
“I understand you will become a Brigade commander.”
“Mr. Bright has made that suggestion. I am willing to do whatever I can to help you and your people...especially with inter-galactic communication and exploration. I am at your service.” Spooner turned to Bright.
“Counsel Bright. In view of recent developments, I suggest you proceed with processing Mister Mersky to Brigade commander as quickly as possible.”
Bright was about to inform Spooner of the Brigade commanders’ resistance to having Mersky join the Brigade, much less as a commander, but thought better of it. This was not the time, nor place, for that discussion. Brigade people might be listening. Spooner took her leave, offering Mersky her hand once more. She then moved to the front of the hall, to address the gathering. A reverberating gong sounded, drawing the gathering’s attention to Spooner. The hall grew silent. Spooner raised her hands in the universal sign of greeting.
“Members of the Antarean, Earth-human, Geriatric Brigade. On behalf of the High Council, I wish to offer my congratulations on a successful reunion, and our deepest gratitude to you for all that you have meant to our universal mission.” The hall erupted in applause. “You have the honor to be present on Antares this very special day. At this moment, for the first time, our civilization is reaching beyond our galaxy to others. This great leap, made possible by the generosity of our friends the Parmans, our superior space travel technology, and the inter-galactic communication skills of your commanders, is only a beginning. The entire universe now lies open before us. Let us continue, as we have for the past sixteen Earth-years, to travel together as partners, into the future The Master has ordained.” There was more applause, with a few whistles and shouts. “You are a very special race that The Master has delivered into our safekeeping. May The Master always protect all of you, and your progeny, through the ages.” Spooner bowed and spread her hands again in a universal sign of peace.
The Brigade members responded with several minutes of genuine applause and cheers. Ruth Charnofsky, and the other commanders present, put their hands together politely. They silently signaled to one another to meet in Ruth’s quarters after the party.
When Spooner, Bright, and the other Antarean High Council members left the hall, the partying resumed for a few more hours. Some of the Brigade could not get enough of the Earthly food. Others, the more loquacious, talked endlessly of the fascinating adventures they had enjoyed throughout the galaxy. And those parents who would soon make the journey to Earth, enthusiastically made plans and traded stories about contacts with their children over the years. But none of them, as instructed, mentioned the children of Butterfly House to Gideon Mersky. His ignorance of Butterfly House also meant that Amos Bright and the Antareans had also kept the secret.
As a professional politician, Mersky understood the importance of building a base of support. Amos Bright had suggested that he might encounter opposition to his joining the Brigade as a commander. Mersky’s plan was to mingle and renew old acquaintances with those he had met before - the parents who had their babies on Earth sixteen years ago. He also wanted to make friends with many other Brigade members he had never met. Bright had encouraged him to do this, secretly hoping that someone in the Brigade might inadvertently reveal that the children were still on Earth, and thus relieve him of having to break the vow of secrecy he had taken by telling Mersky himself.
But Annabella Costa had other plans for Gideon Mersky. She had received orders from Ruth Charnofsky.
“Besides keeping an eye on Gideon’s movements,” Ruth had told Annabella, “we would like you to see what you can learn about his plans, should he become a commander.” Annabella was a crafty woman. Her years of working as a stripper had hardened her to the advances of men, and schooled her in how to use her feminine wiles to control them.
“Listen, Ruth Darlin’,” she had replied to Chief Commander, who had been a very staid and proper woman on Earth, “Y’all have come to the right person for that mission. For sure, for sure.”
She smiled and bent close to Ruth’s ear. “If there’s one thing I can get from a man, besides attention and gettin’ his blood up, is a loose tongue and his confidence.”
“Then your being on that Shar-Bakart transport that picked him up was provident,” Ruth told her.
“Yes, Ma’am,” a smiling Annabella Costa had answered.
“Just part of the good ol’ Masser’s plan, as our Ant buddies might say.”
Annabella quietly slipped up behind Mersky a moment after Bright had left.
“I think it’s time that you and I sashayed out of here, Lover Boy,” Annabella whispered into his ear.
“Just a little while longer, Love” he answered, gently slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her close against him. “I want to talk to some of these folks about...” Annabella pulled away. Her eyes narrowed.
“Y’all decide, here and now. If’n you want to do talky-talk, I’m gonna pick myself up and do a walky-walk. And that might be a real long one, if you take my meanin’.”
Mersky saw she was serious. His libido overpowered reason. They quickly left, arm in arm. Ben Green, who had observed the exchange, smiled to himself, remembering the fascination he had with his own sexual rejuvenation. He was aware of Ruth’s orders to Annabella and admired the way she relentlessly kept her hooks in Mersky.
Ruth also noted the departure of the lovers and sent Annabella a secret message of approval and thanks. None of the Brigade commanders has lost their distrust of the retired Secretary of Defense. None had forgotten his attempt to forcefully keep the children on Earth, and even though he supposedly saw the errors of his ways, and apologized, they were still wary.
After the reunion gala ended, the five Brigade commanders met in Ruth’s and Panatoy’s suite. The Subaxian scanned the rooms for listening devices. It was clean. The Antareans, for all their intense concentration on successful exploration and trade, were, for the most part, ethical beings. They all settled into two plush sofas, facing each other. Coffee, tea and cookies were available on a silver platter that took up most of the small table between them.
“I am convinced that Spooner and the High Council have grown mistrustful of us,” Ruth began
“And the children too, I gather,” Art Perlman added as he stirred his coffee.
“You can’t really blame the Ants,” Ben Green said. “These folks have been tooling around this galaxy for millennia. They hav
e a strong, proprietary interest in keeping the status quo.”
“Yes, Ben. But apparently the kids have been doing some tooling around too,” Bess said with a grin.
“I’d say more than some,” Mary Green added.
“That’s for sure,” Ruth said. “But let’s talk about the reaction of Spooner and the High Council first.”
“Like I said, they’re used to being in control,” Ben responded. “Then, sort of overnight, Parman Guide propulsion and our communication, uh, abilities shall we say, opens up the Universe to them. And remember, not only are we their only communication link between galaxies, but they are aware we have developed a close relationship with the Parmans. I’d be nervous too.”
“I think Bess and my volunteering to handle communications from Klane, calmed their fears, don’t you, Ruth?” Art asked.
“Absolutely. And I think it critical that we continually assure them that we are on their side and eager to help.”
“How did that become such a pressing concern?” Mary asked.
“When it became known that the children have been communicating with beings throughout the galaxy,” Ruth answered. She then reiterated the total message received from Joe Finley to Bernie. “I had no choice but to make Spooner aware before Amos Bright left as Ambassador for Klane.”
“Why?” Art asked.
“Because Commander Beam learned about the children’s contact with the Sloor from Marie Amato. It was a mistake. No one warned Marie. Beam sent that information via the Antarean’s galactic communication system. If she found out that way, she would have known we were keeping important information from her and who knows what that might have precipitated. Remember, we have commanders on the inter-galactic missions. Anyway, I spoke to her a short while ago in her quarters.”
“Ruth did the right thing. She’s correct about the children,” Bess Perlman said. “Mary and I were talking about that at the dinner. Tell everyone what you thought, Mary.” Mary Green shifted uneasily on the downy pillow. She glanced at her husband, nervously. She felt a little insecure. It was a throwback to the days when Ben was a major advertising executive and she was the stay-at-home housewife/mother who couldn’t handle her empty nest when their daughters had grown up and left. She had taken to drinking alcohol and ruminating about their son, Scott, who had been killed in the Vietnam War. Now, with the prospect of being reunited with their new son, Scott, named for the one they lost, Mary didn’t want anything to interfere with their trip home to Earth.
“I was telling Bess that in the Council meeting I sensed the Antareans suspect we commanders knew something about the children and that we were keeping it from them in order to circumvent their authority. They couldn’t have possibly known about the Sloor because we got Joe’s message just before the meeting. Of course, that was before Ruth told Spooner about the Sloor and the children...”
“Yes,” Ruth admitted. “The news from Frank and Betty when they reach their respective galaxies will be ours exclusively... for the moment.” Ruth got up and stood beside Panatoy. He took her hand in his. “The contacts the children seem to have made,” she continued, “and the way they are refusing to be tested, as well as their insistence that we all come immediately, worries Spooner.” Mary Green sipped her coffee and threw a quick glance at Ben. He was listening to Ruth respectfully. She was nervous that Ruth might postpone the trip to Earth. “Even Amos Bright, whom I regard as a friend, has a different attitude toward us. He is distant and suspicious,” Ruth said.
“Not to mention he’s become a champion of having Gideon Mersky join the Brigade as a commander,” Panatoy chimed in. The tall blue Subax, whose long, white, silky hair flowed down and below his broad shoulders, had been standing quietly, holding his wife’s hand. Although the Antareans had constructed an adjacent suite to accommodate Panatoy with comfortable Subaxian environment, he chose to wear a protective garment and portable breathing device and join the meeting. “I watched them, Bright and Mersky, with Spooner. They want him to be processed as commander immediately.”
“Spooner said that?” Ben Green asked.
“Absolutely.” Panatoy smiled proudly. “They were most secretive about it, but in the thick, Earth-like atmosphere of the hall I heard all their words.”
“They are pushing him through to intercept our communications,” Art said. “You are right, Ruth. They don’t trust us.”
“We cannot allow Mersky to be processed,” Ruth stated categorically.
“How can we stop them?” Art asked. Panatoy spread his arms out to their full eleven-foot span.
“If I may say, I do not think it wise to confront Spooner now. You do not have enough information about her plans.”
“I agree,” Ben said. “We must first understand what the children have been up to and why.”
“They are being strangely tight-lipped,” Ruth said. “Even our daughter, Autumn, who speaks with the children regularly, would not share any information with us.”
“Look,” Ben then said. “The kids have found a way to reach out to the Sloor. If they can do that, then they have done it in other systems...maybe even other galaxies. So, it seems to me, that ability makes our messaging sort of obsolete, doesn’t it?” They nodded their agreement. “Then giving Mersky a commander’s abilities becomes moot.”
“Yes,” Ruth agreed. “It’s the children Spooner wants to control now.”
“Then the mission to Earth must go forward as quickly as possible,” Bess said. “We can’t allow anything to get in its way.” An uneasy silence fell over the group.
“Amos Bright is Gideon Mersky’s sponsor,” Panatoy finally said. “And Spooner is with him on making Mersky a commander. That is very clear. But why is Bright pushing so hard? We are his friends. He is responsible for our being here, and for you, the commanders, possessing the powers you do.”
“Is he doing this because he doesn’t trust us anymore either?” Bess asked.
“I don’t think so,” Art said. “It’s all been piling up...the kids, our new communication abilities, and our relationship with the Parmans... The Antareans have had a lock on the lion’s share of trade in this galaxy. Maybe we have become too important to their plans.”
“Art and Bess are right,” Ben said. “Amos put his trust in us. Now, maybe, he thinks we might use our influence and abilities to somehow take over the Antarean missions.”
“Maybe he thinks we will act like Earth-humans back home,” Mary said. “You know...driven by greed and power hungry.”
“We never gave him reason to think that of us,” Ruth said.
“No, but he was on Earth long enough the last time to become aware of those qualities in our government and leaders,” Ben said.
“You mean what Mersky did, or tried to do?” Ruth asked.
“Yes. And with Mersky showing up this way, I’m inclined to think he may be whispering in Amos’s auditory orifice,” Ben answered. “He is not to be trusted. And I agree with Ruth. We’ve got to see the children.”
“Immediately,” Ruth said. Everyone agreed. “And with Mersky,” Ruth added, “let’s follow Don Corleone’s advice to his son, Michael. “Keep our friends close, but keep our enemies closer.”
“Well,” Bess said, smiling, “I think we’re in good shape on that account.”
“How’s that?” Mary asked.
“We can’t get much closer to him than Annabella Costa already is, now can we?” Everyone, including Panatoy, had a good laugh.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - GREETINGS ON PACCUM IN MANIGRA
Brigade Commander Betty Franklin heard the angelic voices of the children’s choir of Saint Nicholas of Tolentine in her mind. “Do-oh-no, no-oh-bless, pa-a-chem, pax. Do-oh-oh-oh, no-oh-oh-bless, pa-a-a-a-chem.” She had grown up, Felicity Mary McKensey, in a Roman Catholic enclave in The Bronx. Her nickname was “Betty” because her mother thought she looked like Lauren Bacall whose nickname was “Betty”.
The Catholic Church was the center of her life in her formative years. S
he attended Catholic school, from kindergarten through 12th grade, and mass every Sunday. Then she met Murray Franklin, a neighborhood boy. They fell in love. Much to the chagrin of her family, her priest, and many friends, she converted to Judaism and married Murray.
After years of traveling the Galaxy, visiting many planets and meeting so many different beings, any organized religion, especially those espousing theirs as the “true religion”, seemed parochial and primitive to her. She witnessed the glory of creation everywhere, not just on Earth and understood that with the development of cognitive life in a peaceful, civilized society, there was no place, or reason, for divisive and bigoted religion. It was clear that on Earth, religion was nothing more than a scam, perpetrated mostly by old men, to control others, especially women.
At this moment, as she was about to step onto a planet in another galaxy, having been greeted in her native tongue by someone who knew the children of Butterfly House, Betty Franklin felt uplifted and privileged. She was at one with the Universe. She sensed being a part of the endless space around her; galaxies beyond galaxies that seemed to have no boundary; no containment; no beginning; no end. How far she had traveled from that church in the Bronx...how far she still had to go. Yet it was not strange. She belonged here.
“Do-oh-no, no-oh-bless, pa-a-chem, pax,” sang in Betty’s mind again. “Grant us peace,” she uttered as she led her Brigade landing party out of the Probeship, onto the dull gray, clay soil of Manigra-Sparkle-Plenty-Paccum-Prima-Quad-twenty-four.
The planet’s blue dwarf sun tinted the bleak landscape pale violet. Atmospheric sensing equipment indicated an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere with the presence of a few of the more exotic gases, xenon and argon, which were rare on Earth. Betty told her crew to keep their breathing devices on. A healthy variety of vegetation spread out around them. The horizon line was measured at a distance of more than two hundred kilometers, indicating the size of Paccum to be more than twice that of Earth. Its gravity was tolerable. There was a strong indication of water present, although none could be seen from their landing area. There were no beings to greet them.
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