The Cocoon Trilogy

by David Saperstein

  “Your telepathing is of no concern to me.”

  “Also,” Melody continued, “the Brigade parents, Chief Commander Ruth Charnofsky, Commanders Bernie Lewis and Ben and Mary Green, and your own Commander Alya Mark and her technicians can hear and observe. That is part of our projecting ability.” Bright was stunned. He looked around the room, a conference chamber in the guest quarters of the base, designed for the ambassador’s personal use.

  “I do not see anyone,” he said suspiciously. But at the same time his threatening stance decreased substantially.

  “But they can see you,” Beam assured him.

  “Second,” Melody continued, “All the Brigade commanders are now aware of our presence here, and our eminent departure from Earth to Antares.”

  “They can all see you? Even those not on Earth?” Bright asked.

  “Yes. If you attempt to detain us, then all communication between Brigade commanders in this galaxy, plus those working in Manigra and Bezzolentine, will cease.”

  “You threaten me? You dare threaten the High Council and The Master’s work?” He paled and rose to his maximum height again. Although Antarean nature is not aggressive, they have encountered hostile beings in their travels. Almost all were, like Earth-humans, relatively primitive, so at times, the Antareans had to defend themselves, or subdue, until they could either make peace, or withdraw. Almost always, this only required an aggressive pose and the presentation of potentially overwhelming force - force that they would never use for conquest. Rarely did they have to actually engage in hostilities, and those were over quickly, with no loss of life, because Antarean weapons were designed to immobilize, never to injure or kill.

  Amos Bright’s aggressive pose did not frighten the girls. But then a voice inside his mind stopped him cold. It was the Sloor leader, Machoi, speaking to him telepathically.

  “You are not on Antares, Ambassador/Counsel Bright. This is Klane. The children are under our protection. Be warned.” Melody and Beam also heard Machoi.

  “Please, Ambassador Bright, Melody said softly. “We are just informing you. We know what a good friend you have been to the Brigade...to our parents.”

  “And we all respect the opportunity you gave our parents by offering them a life in space,” Beam added. “You had no idea you were physically tampering with a species. Like you, we mean no harm.”

  “On the contrary,” Melody added. “You have seen how we have helped the Sloor to become. We do the same for all.”

  Bright was not convinced that the children’s evolutionary ‘help’ was in the best interests of Antares, or The Master’s plan. But the idea that so many were witnessing this meeting, one that he assumed would be private, made him hesitate. Now Machoi had warned him. A hostile encounter with the Sloor would not be the best start for his role as Ambassador/Counsel. Bright relaxed. His thin lips widened across his face as he tried to emulate an Earth-human smile.

  “I cannot jeopardize the missions in the Bezzolentine and Manigra Galaxies. Losing communications might be disastrous.” He again reduced his towering physical presence and bent his thin frame down to the girls’ level. His voice was calm and measured. He bowed low and spread his arms in an apologetic pose. “I did not mean to threaten. Of course you are free to leave.”

  “Thank you, Ambassador Bright. We shall have more to say when we reach Antares. May we assume you will be returning soon?”

  “I will pay my final respects to the Sloor, with the hope that they will accept an Antarean embassy on Klane, and depart. We travel on a new Mothership with Parman Guides.”

  “Then both our journeys will be in real-time. Perhaps we will both arrive on Antares today,” Melody said, extending her hand in friendship. Amos took it in his. The young Earth-woman’s grasp felt warm and honest.

  “You said there were three things I had to know, Melody Messina.”

  “Yes,” she answered. “I want to inform you that Gideon Mersky will not become a commander, by order from High Counsel Spooner... That is, at least not for the foreseeable future.” Bright nodded his acceptance without comment. He would wait until he met with Spooner.

  It was time to leave. Melody and Beam bid farewell to the Amato’s, the Finley’s, and the other Brigade members on Klane.

  “I will see you very soon,” Beam assured her parents. “Out among the stars.” They hugged and kissed.

  Machoi had gathered the young Sloor on the beach. They were now capable of telepathing and speaking several languages they’d learned from the children. Most of the adults had already left to forage, and to enjoy their time on land. When the temperature and acidic consistency of the gray, oily liquid changed, they would return to the depths, to bear their young and wait for the next cycle.

  “We shall visit you again soon,” Melody promised the young Sloor and their leader.

  “At the next mating?” Machoi asked.

  “Perhaps even before the next emergence,” Beam told him.

  “But we shall not be emerging,” a young female reminded the girls. “We are now air-breathing. We will remain on the surface. Only our parents will hibernate to the depths.”

  Melody and Beam realized that the Sloor were now branching into two species. They wondered what the offspring of these young air-breathers would be. The girls suspected the change would be more radical than these young who were already very different from their parents.

  They speculated that the new generation, born on land, might bypass gestation in egg and be born live.

  There was much embracing and demonstration of affection. The young Sloor wrapped their wings around the girls and stroked their heads with their curved golden beaks. The girls then bowed, stepped back, and began to fade way from Klane.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - VISITORS AND DEPARTURE

  Melody and Beam projected their full selves to Butterfly House and received a round of applause for a job well done. Now it was time to move on – to leave Earth and begin their work. Commander Alya Mark’s new orders from Spooner were to transport the children and their parents to Antares as soon as possible.

  The hurricane had passed, and damage, other than to trees and some beach erosion, was minimal. Power lines on the island were down, but Butterfly House, with its two powerful generators, was electrically self-sufficient. The compound was a beehive of activity as preparations were finalized for departure. The Mothership, now six miles off shore, prepared to move closer to the cove, allowing the Probeship to deliver passengers quickly under cover of darkness.

  Scott met with Ruth, his parents, Bernie and Rose and the Margolin’s in the solarium. Joining them was Mad Man Mazuski, still visiting on the island. He sat in as an observer as the future of Butterfly House was discussed.

  “Once the word goes out that you are able to travel in space,” Bernie began, “a whole mess of Brigade couples, Earth- human and mixed-mating, will start families. Butterfly House will be a busy place for a long, long time.”

  That’s for sure,” Ruth agreed. Scott turned to the Margolin’s.

  “You two have been so important to us. I hope you will consider staying on.” Alicia Margolin looked at her husband. Phillip smiled and nodded.

  “We are delighted you asked us,” Alicia said.

  “Nothing would make us, and our kids, happier,” Phillip agreed.

  “Wonderful!” Rose exclaimed.

  “There’s just one thing...” Phillip paused to gather his thoughts, knowing he was making a life decision. Alicia’s smile encouraged her husband. “By the time we are old enough to travel in space,” Phillip began, “our children will be grown with lives of their own. We know Butterfly House’s mission must remain secret, but we don’t want our kids to have to stay here if they don’t want to. If we can work that out, then we are prepared to spend the rest of our earthly lives here...”

  “What he means is that we will impatiently wait to join you in space,” Alicia said, interrupting.

  “If you will have us, that is,” Phillip added.


  “Are you kidding? You two have meant so much to us here,” Ruth responded. She placed her hands on Alicia’s and Phillip’s shoulders. “You will be a great asset to the Brigade, and welcomed with open arms.”

  “Remember that we chose you from the womb to be our teachers,” Scott added. “You guys are the best!”

  “Thank you. All of you.” Phillip was emotionally choked. “The kids... I mean they might opt to stay here and maybe take over our roles. Or they might not. Are you open to that eventuality?”

  “Anything and everything is possible,” Scott said. “As far as I am concerned, the answer to both your questions is yes. Am I right, Aunt Ruth?”

  “Yes, Scott. We trust Alicia, Phillip, and their children to keep the secret of Butterfly House. Just as we do Mr. Mazuski, Jack Fischer, Phil Doyle, Mr. DePalmer, and President and Mrs. Teller,” she said.

  “And don’t’ forget the doctors who helped us with the births,” Rose added. “Although they, along with Mersky, never knew the children were here, they did keep the secret of their existence well.” Everyone agreed, nodding their concurrence.

  “Good,” Bernie said, rubbing his hands together. “Then that’s settled.”

  “I’ll need to know what to tell them all,” Mad Man said. I mean I know it’s not my place to interrupt, but with you all gone and...uh...”

  “Of course,” Ruth said. “That’s why we arranged for you to have your boat here. Soon it will become clear.” Mad Man nodded and listened, wondering exactly what would “become clear”.

  “Did you contact Jack Fischer?” Scott asked Bernie.

  “Everything is waiting on Siesta Key.” He looked at his watch. “In fact, I think it’s time for you to fire up the Probeship and pick them up,” he told Rose. She got up and gave Bernie a kiss on his cheek.

  “Trusting your wife to take it out solo?” she teased.

  “My dearest,” he answered, “after soloing twice to the moon and back, and picking up our visitors on this trip, I’d trust you to take it anywhere.”

  All through the mild, moonless tropical night, illuminated only by starlight, the children of Butterfly House moved their belongings down the steep steps to the beach. Their parents helped, excited to be a family together and on the move.

  A while later, Scott and his parents gathered with the Erhardt twins and their parents, Lillian and Abe, the Margolin’s, Ruth, Bernie and Mad Man Mazuski on the patio. Excited sounds of activity filtered up from the beach below. They sat at the table that the Lewis’s, Margolin’s and Martindale’s had breakfasted at every sunny morning for the past sixteen years. Four Tiki lamps on brass stands served as illumination.

  “Rose will be back within the hour,” Bernie told the group.

  “Is everyone on board?” Ben asked.

  “Everyone. Jack Fischer said it was a tight schedule, but they all made it.”

  “Good old Jack. He’s been there for us since the beginning,” Mary recalled. There was fondness in her voice for the Miami fishing charter captain who had been the first Earth-human to help the Antareans twenty-one years ago when Amos Bright and his crew came to retrieve their cocooned army.

  “And he’s kept in touch with all the families who believed why we had left, and where we all went,” Bernie added.

  “Jack sure did a great job helping us get out into the world,” Scott added.

  “So, Jack’s coming here?” Mad Man asked.

  “And others,” Ruth told him.

  “Others?”

  “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”

  “Jack and surprises. That’s how we met all of you,” Mad Man joked.

  “Yes,” Ruth said. “And someday, when you’re old enough to be processed, you all might join us. But for the foreseeable future, we will need your good services, Mr. Mazuski.” Mad Man shrugged and smiled.

  “My pleasure,” the ex-chopper pilot said.

  Bernie was sitting between Ben and Mary Green. He reached over and took their hands in his. “Now... Rose and I have had sixteen wonderful years here with the children. As you can see we have not aged the way raising twenty-two children might do to unprocessed folks.” Everyone laughed. “We love each and every one of them. You must be very proud that Scott has been chosen to be their leader.”

  “We surely are,” Mary said. She smiled at her son.

  “And I am delighted,” Bernie went on, “that you two have volunteered to return to Butterfly House, to teach and protect the next group of our babies, which I am sure are already being conceived, light years from here.”

  “Absolutely,” Ruth agreed. “Word has gone out that it is safe to begin families.”

  The announcement that the Greens would take the place of the Lewis’s was news to Scott and the Margolin’s.

  “That’s great,” Alicia Margolin told Ben and Mary.

  “Awesome,” Scott added as a loud cheer rose up from the beach below.

  “I gather Rose and her charges have arrived,” Bernie announced.

  Rose’s passengers had rendezvoused on Siesta Key, on Florida’s west coast. She had maneuvered her craft underwater, up a wide canal to a posh mansion. It was after midnight. The neighbors, mostly wealthy retirees, were asleep. Jack Fischer greeted her with a warm hug. The trip back to Cayman Brac was uneventful. Rose had kept the sleek, supersonic craft just a few feet above the calm Caribbean, avoiding radar and evading any boats that might cross her path. She zoomed past Cuba before its defenses could identify the Probeship as an aircraft and not an electrical anomaly. As she approached Cayman Brac, she submerged and brought the Probeship into the cove below Butterfly House. Only the front edge of the craft was exposed on the smooth, sandy beach.

  As the people from the patio made their way down the steep steps to the cove, Rose led her passengers out through the Probeship’s forward hatch onto the beach. First out was Malcolm Teller, ex-President of the United States, and his wife, Margo “Honey” McNeil Teller. She had been his press secretary sixteen years ago when both were enlisted to help organize safe, secure and secret locations for the births of the children. The Brigade parents and children greeted the Tellers warmly.

  Next out were three doctors. First was President Fuller’s medical advisor, Dr. Michelangelo Yee. Next, a former Chief of Obstetrics and Gynecology, Dr. Khawaja. Finally, a pediatric surgeon/fetal specialist from Albert Einstein Medical Center, Dr. Robert Chollup. They had been lead members of the staff at NASA Houston’s Building 11. Their team had delivered the children now gathered on the beach, and the three that had been taken off-planet to the homes of their non Earth-human fathers. The doctors were amazed to see that the parents had not aged, but looked years younger. When they saw the children, knowing they were only sixteen, their maturity and physical development astounded the physicians.

  Next to exit the Probeship were two old friends of Butterfly House, the Brigade and the Antareans — Jack Fischer and Phil Doyle. Both were retired Miami charter boat captains. They were greeted by their good friend, Mad Man Mazuski, who had, by then, arrived on the beach with the rest of the people from the patio.

  The last to emerge was a man known only to a few as Mr. DePalmer. He was a shadowy figure, a private banker who had handled the finances and special logistics for Antarean and Brigade visits to Earth, as well as the expenses of running Butterfly House. He stood aside quietly, in suit and tie, as the other passengers from the Probeship mingled with the children and their Brigade parents and commanders.

  While all this was happening, Alya Mark and her team of Antarean technicians quietly boarded the Probeship. Rose piloted them to a rendezvous with the waiting Mothership, offshore.

  The reminiscences, joy and pride among everyone on the beach continued for nearly a half-hour. Excitement in the cool night air was palpable. The great accomplishment of protecting and raising this very special group of children was coming to an end. A new life for them was about to begin. Bernie Lewis quieted everyone down and motioned for them to gather around
.

  “Alya Mark has informed me that the Mothership is now safely parked on the dark side of the moon. They are ready to receive us. The Parman Guides are in place, eager to meet the children, and delighted that they are the ones to bring them out into the Universe.” A cheer rose up from the children. It echoed off the cliffs, across the calm cove, and out to the open sea. “Before those who are leaving go on board, I have a few people to introduce and a few words to say.” Another cheer, but this time the excited children were joined by their parents. Bernie gestured toward the new arrivals. “You all know Jack Fischer, Phil Doyle and Mad...uh, that is, Mr. Mazuski. They have been stalwart in their support of the children and Butterfly House.” More loud applause. The three men had been meticulously careful as liaisons. They transported the children to the mainland and escorted them to the various colleges and universities they’d attended. They also kept the families of the Brigade members updated on their loved ones. The fact that these families had kept the secret of the Brigade was miraculous. Then again, talk of alien abductions and visitors from outer space was met with skepticism and scorn on Earth. No one wanted to be labeled a nut. Jack, Phil and Mad Man now had the certain knowledge that when they reached their 60’s, they had an open invitation to join the Brigade.

  “They are here with Mr. DePalmer,” Bernie continued, “who most of you don’t know.” The quiet banker waved shyly to the crowd. “Mr. DePalmer handles our finances.” Bernie then pointed to the three doctors. “These men knew you kids from the moment you appeared.” A nice round of applause welled up.

  “They are Dr. Michelangelo Yee, Dr. Shariat Khawaja and Dr. Henry Chollop.” The doctors nodded and smiled. Dr. Khawaja spoke in a soft voice. Everyone strained to hear him. Even the sound of the waves gently lapping on the beach seemed to abate.

  “We are so extremely pleased to see all of you so...so well. All grown and healthy, and quite beautiful. Knowing you at birth, and now understanding a little about the journey you are embarking upon, makes us proud to have been part of your lives. We wish you Inshallah, great success.”