”
“And he promised to send you each a print?”
“That’s right.”
“Then he must have taken your names and addresses.”
“Well, sure. Otherwise, how would he know where to send them?”
Robert stood still, a feeling of euphoria sweeping over him. Serendipity, Robert, you lucky sonofabitch! An impossible mission had suddenly become a piece of cake. He was no longer looking for seven unknown passengers. All he had to do was find one photographer. “Why didn’t you mention him before, Mr Beckerman?”
“You asked me about passengers.”
“You mean, he wasn’t a passenger?”
Hans Beckerman shook his head. “Nein.” He pointed. “His car was stalled across the highway. A tow truck was starting to haul it away, and then there was this loud crash, and he ran across the road to see what was happening. When he saw what it was, the fellow ran back to his car, grabbed his cameras and came back. Then he asked us all to pose in front of the saucer thing.”
“Did this photographer give you his name?”
“No.”
“Do you remember anything about him?”
Hans Beckerman concentrated. “Well, he was a foreigner. American or English.”
“You said a tow truck was getting ready to haul his car away?”
“That’s right.”
“Do you remember which way the truck was headed?”
“North. I figured he was towing it into Bern. Thun is closer, but on Sunday all the garages in Thun are closed.”
Robert grinned. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”
“You won’t forget to send me your article when it’s finished?”
“No. Here’s your money and an extra hundred marks for your great help. I’ll drive you home.” They walked over to the car. As Beckerman opened the door, he stopped and turned toward Robert. “That was very generous of you.” He took from his pocket a small rectangular piece of metal, the size of a cigarette lighter, containing a tiny white crystal.
“What’s this?”
“I found it on the ground Sunday before we got back on the bus.” Robert examined the strange object. It was as light as paper and was the colour of sand. A rough edge at one end indicated that it might be part of another piece. Part of the equipment that had been in the weather balloon? Or part of a UFO? “Maybe it will bring you luck,” said Beckerman, as he placed the bills Robert had given him in his wallet. “It certainly worked for me.” He smiled broadly and got into the car.
It was time to ask himself the hard question: Do I really believe in UFOs? He had read dozens of wild newspaper stories about people who said they had been beamed up into UFOs and had had all kinds of weird experiences, and he had always attributed those reports to people who were either looking for publicity or who should have thrown themselves on the mercy of a good psychiatrist. But in the past few years there had been reports that were less easy to dismiss. Reports of UFO sightings by astronauts, Air Force pilots and police officials, people with credibility, who shunned publicity. In addition, there had been the disturbing report of the UFO crash at Roswell, New Mexico, where the bodies of aliens had purportedly been discovered. The government was supposed to have hushed that up and removed all the evidence. In World War II, pilots had reported strange sightings of what they called “Foo fighters”, unidentified objects that buzzed them and then disappeared. There were stories of whole towns that had been visited by unexplainable objects speeding through the sky. What if there really were aliens in UFOs from another galaxy? Robert wondered. How would it affect our world? Would it mean peace? War? The end of civilization as we know it? He found himself half hoping that Hans Beckerman was a raving lunatic, and that what had crashed was really a weather balloon. He would have to find another witness either to verify Beckerman’s story or refute it. On the surface, the story seemed incredible, and, yet, there was something nagging at Robert. If it were only a weather balloon that had crashed, even if it did carry special equipment, why had he been called into a meeting at the National Security Agency at six o’clock in the morning and told that it was urgent that all the witnesses be found quickly? Was there a cover-up? And if so … why?
Later that day a press conference was held in Geneva, in the austere offices of the Bundesgasse, the Swiss Ministry of Internal Affairs. There were more than fifty reporters in the room, and an overflow crowd outside in the corridor. There were representatives from television, radio and the press from more than a dozen countries, many loaded with microphones and television gear. They all seemed to be speaking at once.
“We’ve heard reports that it was not a weather balloon …”
“Is it true that it was a flying saucer?”
“There are rumours that there were alien bodies aboard the ship …”
“Was one of the aliens alive?”
“Is the government trying to hide the truth from the people …?”
The press officer raised his voice to regain control. “Ladies and gentlemen, there has been a simple misunderstanding. We get calls all the time. People see satellites, shooting stars … Isn’t it interesting that reports of UFOs are always made anonymous? Perhaps this caller really believed it was a UFO, but in actuality, it was a weather balloon that fell to the ground. We have arranged transportation to take you to it. If you will follow me, please …”
Fifteen minutes later, two busloads of reporters and television cameras were on their way to Uetendorf to see the remains of a crashed weather balloon. When they arrived, they stood in the wet grass, surveying the torn metallic envelope. The press officer said, “This is your mysterious flying saucer. It was sent aloft from our air base in Vevey. To the best of our knowledge, ladies and gentlemen, there are no unidentified flying objects that our government has not been satisfactorily able to explain, nor to our knowledge are there any extraterrestrials visiting us. It is our government’s firm policy that if we should come across any such evidence, we would immediately make that information available to the public. If there are no further questions …”
Hangar 17 at Langley Air Force Base in Virginia was locked in complete and rigid security. Outside, four armed marines guarded the perimeters of the building, and inside, three high-ranking Army officers stayed on alternate watches of eight hours each, guarding a sealed room inside the hangar. None of the officers knew what he was guarding.
Besides the scientists and doctors who were working inside, there had been only three visitors permitted in the sealed chamber.
The fourth visitor was just arriving. He was greeted by Brigadier General Paxton, the officer in charge of security. “Welcome to our menagerie.”
“I’ve been looking forward to this.”
“You won’t be disappointed. Come this way, please.”
Outside the door of the sealed room was a rack containing four white, sterile suits that completely covered the body.
“Would you please put one on?” the General asked.
“Certainly.” Janus slipped into the suit. Only his face was visible through the glass mask. He put large white slippers over his shoes, and the General led him to the entrance of the sealed room. The marine guard stepped aside, and the General opened the door. “In here.”
Janus entered the chamber and looked around. In the centre of the room was the spaceship. On white autopsy tables at the other side lay the bodies of the two aliens. A pathologist was performing an autopsy on one of them.
General Paxton directed the visitor’s attention to the spaceship.
“We’re dealing here with what we believe to be a scout ship,” General Paxton explained. “We’re sure it has some way of communicating directly with the mothership.”
The two men moved closer to examine the spacecraft. It was approximately thirty-five feet in diameter. The interior was shaped like a pearl, with an expandable ceiling, and contained three couches, resembling recliner chairs. The walls were covered with panels containing vibrating metal discs.
“There’s a lot here we haven’t been able to figure out yet,” General Paxton admitted. “But what we’ve already learned is amazing.” He pointed to an array of equipment in small panels. “There’s an integrated wide-field-of-view optical system, what appears to be a life-scan system, a communication system with voice-synthesis capability, and a navigational system that, frankly, has us stumped. We think it works on some kind of electromagnetic pulse.”
“Any weapons aboard?” Janus asked.
General Paxton spread out his hands in a gesture of defeat. “We’re not sure. There’s a lot of hardware here we don’t begin to understand.”
“What is its source of energy?”
“Our best guess is that it uses monoatomic hydrogen in a closed loop so its waste product is water that can be continually recycled into hydrogen for power. With all that perpetual energy, it has a free ride in interplanetary space. It may be years before we solve all the secrets here. And there’s something else that’s puzzling. The bodies of the two aliens were strapped into their couches. But the indentations in the third couch indicate that it was occupied.”
“Are you saying,” Janus asked slowly, “that one may be missing?”
“It certainly looks that way.”
Janus stood there a moment frowning. “Let’s have a look at our trespassers.”
The two men walked over to the tables where the two aliens lay. Janus stood there, staring at the strange figures. It was incredible that things so foreign to humanity could exist as sentient beings. The foreheads of the aliens were larger than he had expected. The creatures were completely bald, with no eyelids or eyebrows. The eyes resembled ping-pong balls.
The doctor performing the autopsy looked up as the men approached. “It’s fascinating,” he said. “A hand has been severed from one of the aliens. There’s no sign of blood, but there are what appear to be veins that contain a green liquid. Most of it has drained out.”
“A green liquid?” Janus asked.
“Yes.” The doctor hesitated. “We believe these creatures are a form of vegetable life.”
“A thinking vegetable? Are you serious?”
“Watch this.” The doctor picked up a watering can and sprinkled water over the arm of the alien with a missing hand. For a moment, nothing happened. And then suddenly at the end of the arm, green matter oozed out and slowly began to form a hand.
The two men stared, shocked. “Jesus! Are these things dead or not?”
“That’s an interesting question. These two figures are not alive in the human sense, but neither do they fit our definition of death. I would say they’re dormant.”
Janus was still staring at the newly formed hand.
“Many plants show various forms of intelligence.”
“Intelligence?”
“Oh, yes. There are plants that disguise themselves, protect themselves. At this moment, we’re doing some amazing experiments on plant life.”
Janus said, “I would like to see those experiments.”
“Certainly. I’ll be happy to arrange it.”
The huge greenhouse laboratory was in a complex of government buildings thirty miles outside of Washington, DC. Hanging on the wall was an inscription that read:
THE MAPLES AND FERNS ARE STILL UNCORRUPT,
YET, NO DOUBT, WHEN THEY COME TO CONSCIOUSNESS,
THEY, TOO, WILL CURSE AND SWEAR.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Nature, 1836
Professor Rachman, who was in charge of the complex, was an earnest gnome of a man, filled with enthusiasm for his profession. “It was Charles Darwin who was the first to perceive the ability of plants to think. Luther Burbank followed up by communicating with them.”
“You really believe that is possible?”
“We know it is. George Washington Carver communed with plants and they gave him hundreds of new products. Carver said, ‘When I touch a flower, I am touching Infinity. Flowers existed long before there were human beings on this earth, and they will continue to exist for millions of years after. Through the flower, I talk to Infinity’ …”
Janus looked around the enormous greenhouse they were standing in. It was filled with plants and exotic flowers that rainbowed the room. The mixture of perfumes was overpowering.
“Everything in this room is alive,” Professor Rachman said. “These plants can feel love, hate, pain, excitement … just as animals do. Sir Jagadis Chandra Bose proved that they respond to a tone of voice.”
“How does one prove something like that?” Janus asked.
“I will be happy to demonstrate.” Rachman walked over to a table covered with plants. Beside the table was a polygraph machine. Rachman lifted one of the electrodes and attached it to a plant. The needle on the face of the polygraph was at rest. “Watch,” he said.
He leaned closer to the plant and whispered, “I think you are very beautiful. You are more beautiful than all the other plants here …”
Janus watched the needle move ever so slightly.