CHAPTER XIII
Exodus from Space
The big
question—the purpose of the saucer survey—was still unanswered. It was
likely to remain a mystery until our unknown visitors chose to reveal
it. But in a few days everybody would be clamoring for the most probable
answer. What could they be told?
1. As a
start I put down two suggestions that had been published since '47.
The unknown planet
race—perhaps more than one-may fear an eventual invasion when we achieve
space travel. Our success with atomic weapons may have increased this
fear, and our high-altitude rocket tests would indicate that we are not
far from journeys in space. This is one possibility suggested by Project
Sign.
2. The
spacemen may fear the effect of more powerful atomic explosions,
especially if this race comes from a solar-system planet. Several atomic
scientists have said that simultaneous H-bomb explosions might speed up
the earth's rotation or even change its orbit. One of these was Dr. Paul
Elliott, a nuclear physicist who worked on the first A bomb. Others have
said that a mass explosion of H bombs might tear a large chunk out of
the earth, or that a violent chain reaction might even destroy our
planet.
Any of
these effects, particularly destruction of the
225
earth, might have
serious results—or at least unpleasant reactions—on Mars, Venus, and
other solar-system planets. According to some astronomers, including Dr.
George Gamow of George Washington University, the earth's ice ages were
caused by certain unknown changes on Saturn and Jupiter. A violent
explosion which altered or destroyed the earth might have even more
disastrous results. If some other solar-planet race knew this danger
from its own atomic discoveries, it would have good reason for alarm.
Using
other suggestions I'd heard and ideas of my own, I added the following
alternate motives:
3. If
the unknown race uses atomic energy, it may be exhausting its supply of
uranium. In this case our A-bomb explosions would reveal a new source of
supply. This would explain the saucers' interest in our atomic plants
and uranium mines. It would be simple for remote-control units to locate
uranium deposits—our own Geological Survey has developed Geiger counters
for planes used in such searches. It would also explain the saucers'
concentration on the United States, the most advanced nation in this
field.
4. The
saucer race may intend to invade us as part of a program to conquer
inhabited planets.
5. They
may have some unknown plan for the earth beside plain conquest.
6. Our
planet may not be considered a menace, and it may not hold any material
interest leading to an invasion. The surveillance then could be for one
of two reasons:
A. To survey the earth with the
intention of contact, once the saucer race has convinced us of its
peaceful intentions and is sure we will not attack them.
B. To catalogue the earth as just
another inhabited planet, with no plans for immediate contact. The
survey might then subside into a periodic check until we seemed far
enough advanced for acceptance, unless meantime we developed into a
threat to space nations.
There
was one factor which might have an important
226
bearing. For almost
200 years before the 1947 sightings, strange objects and lights had been
reported all over the world. Many of the stories were undoubtedly old
wives' tales. But a few reports, by astronomers, sea captains, and
various reputable observers, sounded remarkably like the present
sightings.
This was
especially true of the sightings within the last 80 years. On September
26, 1870, the London Times reported a strange elliptical object
which was seen to cross the face of the moon. A year later, on August
1,
1871, citizens of Marseilles, France, sighted a large, round device
moving slowly across the sky, apparently at a very high altitude. At
Kattenau, Germany, on March 22, 1880, several bright, luminous objects
were sighted just before dawn, moving westward as they climbed. (This
report was published in the British Nature magazine, Vol. 22, p.
64.)
In 1885
the Bermuda Royal Gazette described a mysterious round object which had
flown over the islands, and that same year, on November 1, an astronomer
and other witnesses reported sighting a huge, round machine over
Adrianople, Turkey.
On March
19, 1887, two unknown aerial objects were reported to have fallen into
the sea near a Dutch barkentine. According to Captain C. D. Sweet, one
object was dark, the other luminous. He was positive they were not
meteors.
About a
year after this an oval-shaped disc was reported over New Zealand,
speeding at a high altitude. And in 1890 several large aerial objects
were sighted over the Dutch East Indies. Similar devices were later seen
over England and Scotland. One report, which came from a British
admiral, described a large disc with a projection like a tail.
Since
there were no airplanes or dirigibles at this time, it is difficult to
explain away the sightings, unless they are all termed hallucinations.
227
During
this period there were similar sightings in the United States. One
typical disc report came from Denison, Texas, where the observer
compared the device with a large saucer. The story was carried in the
Denison Daily News, January 25, 1878.
In 1897
a strange aerial machine with red, green, and white lights was sighted
by astronomers and thousands of Americans in several Midwest states.
Newspaper accounts were published in Chicago and many other cities.
On
February 24, 1904, a mysterious "flying light" was seen above the
Atlantic by crew members of the USS Supply. The report, attested by
Lieutenant Frank H. Schofield, U.S.N., described the object as moving
with great speed, apparently at a high altitude. (A detailed account
appears in the March, 1904, issue of Weather Review, an official
publication of the U.S. Weather Bureau.)
Another
sighting listed in the Weather Review, in 1907, occurred near
Burlington, Vermont, where a weird torpedo-shaped machine was reported
as circling the area. During this sighting a round, glowing object fell
from the machine, exploding before it reached the ground. Still another
Weather Review report described a peculiar shadow seen on some
clouds at Forth Worth, April 8, 1913. The shadow appeared to be caused
by a large machine hovering above the cloud layer. As the clouds moved,
the shadow remained in the same position. Then it suddenly diminished in
size, as if the machine had risen vertically, and quickly disappeared.
If these
reports were to be believed, I could see only one conclusion—that the
earth had been observed periodically, in a systematic patrol of
inhabited planets, but until recently had not been of great interest to
advanced races.
The
present sightings, then, might be only a new phase of a long
surveillance, though they could be observations
228
by some planet race
which had discovered the earth in the last few years. It was even
possible that both answers were right—there might be more than one race
involved in the saucer survey.
If it
was an entirely new operation, it wasn't hard to see how the unknown
race had discovered the earth. Though it could have been an accident,
during a space exploration, there was a more likely explanation.
For some
years now, our radar and high-frequency radio messages had been
traveling through space. Radio astronomers on some other planet
undoubtedly must have heard them and set about deciphering the messages.
Even if they hadn't learned their meaning, the unknown race would know
they were intelligent symbols, coming from another world. Monitoring the
wave lengths, locating their source, and following the signals to the
earth would be a simple matter for a race that had conquered space
travel . . .
That
evening, after dinner, I was trying to decide the most likely motive
when Jim Riordan called me.
"I'm in
Alexandria," he said. "Been looking at one of the Hunting Towers
apartments. If you're not busy, I thought I might grab a bus and come
out—I'd like to hear what Smith had to say."
I looked
at the clock.
"There's
no bus for an hour—I’ll run in and pick you up."
"All
right," said Riordan. "I’ll be in the lobby of the George Mason Hotel.
In fact we might as well talk here. It'll be easier for me to get a bus
back to Washington."
It was
only a few minutes' drive into Alexandria. I went into the hotel and
found Riordan smoking his pipe, watching the lobby television set. We
sat down in a corner and I gave him the main points of my talk with
Smith. Then I told him about the Utah pictures.
"They're
going to make that public?" Riordan said incredulously.
"In
about a week."
229
"It’ll
raise hell—people should have been gradually prepared."
"They've
heard the idea for five years."
"The
idea—yes. But how many have really figured out the angles? That piece in
Gusto was right—nobody's ready for it"
"I
didn't see that," I said.
"It's a
pocket mag—they had an article called 'When the Saucers Land.' The guy
who wrote it asked Civil Defense, the Red Cross, the Civil Air Patrol,
and a lot of other outfits what they'd do if saucers suddenly landed.
He certainly caught them with their pants down. Civil Defense and the
CAP said they didn't know. The Red Cross said it would send out an
alert. The mayor—it was Los Angeles, I think—said they didn't have any
plan."
"You've
got something, Jim. A sudden landing could cause trouble."
"Some
retired Navy commander got all steamed up about it," said Riordan. "He
fired letters at the White House, the Defense Department, even the FBI,
blasting the Air Force for not preparing people."
"It's
easy to take cracks at the Air Force—I ought to know. But since July
I've seen the spot they're in. If I'd been in Samford's shoes then, I'd
have done just what he did."
"I guess
I would, too. But that debunking's going to make it tougher now, when
they throw this Utah thing at the public. And they'll just have to tell
people what they think's behind the saucer survey."
"Unless
they're holding back on me, all they could do would be to give out the
possible answers."
Riordan
read over the list I'd written.
"That
last part is just wishful thinking," he said grimly. "If it's only a
general survey, why the green missiles and the red-spray bombs?"
"I’ll
admit they're prepared for an attack. But I think
230
it's only if we
don't listen to reason—probably about A-bomb explosions."
"And
that's your 'out'?" demanded Riordan.
"I know
it sounds pretty thin. But you can't ignore the time element—four years
since those tests and no attack. Take Smith's 'lost civilization' idea.
Suppose we discovered a lost race like that today. You think the United
Nations-even Russia—would go down there hell-bent on wiping them out?"
"Well—no. We'd check on them first."
"And it
might take a long time to figure them out. If it looked as if they were
getting set for A bombs and jet bombers, we'd do something—but we'd give
them a chance first. Meantime we might try out a few guided missiles
where nobody'd get hurt—maybe as a warning or even a ranging test if
they didn't accept our offers."
"It
could be the truth," Riordan said thoughtfully. "If you're right, it's
up to us whether the saucers attack or not. I'm still not sold—but it's
possible."
He
glanced at his watch, stood up. As we went outside the hotel, Riordan
looked up into the night.
"It's a
queer feeling, knowing they're up there watching everything we do—and
deciding whether they'll let us live or not"
"If my
hunch is right, Jim, it'll be up to us."
Riordan
slowly nodded.
"Maybe
it will I hope to God you're right."
It was
two days before I heard from the Pentagon. Then one morning an Air Force
PIO phoned me.
"Al told
me to give you a message—he had to rush off to a meeting. He said to ask
you to come in around 2 o'clock. He's got something to show you."
When I
saw Al, I noticed he had a worried look.
"What's
happened?" I said.
"There's
been a spurt in sightings. Only a few have gotten into the papers, but
we've had 42 military reports alone, the first 17 days of February. I've
got a few here for
231
you." He was silent
for a moment, tapping his fingers on the desk. "It's not good, Don. If
it keeps on, there may be a lot of public reports. We might have the
July trouble all over again."
"I can
guess the rest," I said. "They're backing down on the Utah film
showing."
"Nobody's backing down," Al retorted. "Anyway, not the ones who think it
should be made public. But it wasn't the Utah business I wanted to see
you about."
Reaching
into a desk drawer, he brought out a manila folder. As he opened it, I
saw several typed pages.
"This
script," he said carefully, "has been approved for publication—on one
condition. I’ll tell you what it is after yon read it."
He
handed me the pages and I looked at the title:
Planet Earth—Host to
Extraterrestrial life
I stared
at Al, then read the beginning. The key paragraphs repeated a statement
which several scientists had made: In some far-off future, when the
earth cools or our sun expands, Man's only chance for survival will be
escape to another planet. This situation, the script went on, can be
expected on any inhabited planet.
Then one
line seemed to leap from the page:
"Granted
that super-intelligents in another solar system are looking for a
suitable planet for a second home, why would earth be singled out . .
.?"
I looked
at Al in amazement.
"This is
dynamite. You mean the Air Force wants this made public?"
"It's
not an official statement," he said quickly.
"Then
what is it?"
"It's
one person's opinion—a man named W. C. Odell."
"Not
Colonel Odell, in Intelligence?"
"Well—yes. But his Air Force connection can't be used on the by-line."
232
"You'll
never keep it secret, if this gets into print. The boys in the press
room are sure to dig it up. When that hits the wires, it'll raise holy
hell."
"The Air
Force would say it was simply one man's opinion."
"But an
Intelligence colonel! Why take the risk—now of all times?"
"Odell
has the right to express a personal opinion, if it doesn't violate
security."
"For
Heaven's sake, Al! You know what this means. If this invasion idea gets
out after you show the Utah film—"
"It
won't be published then. No magazine could get it on the stands that
soon."
"You
think they'd sit on it that long? The minute the Utah story breaks,
they'd resell it to a wire service, with joint credit."
Al was
silent.
"You
want me to show this to True—is that it?"
"Yes, or
any other magazine you write for. But make it clear that Odells Air
Force rank can't be used."
"Look,
AL I've got to know what's back of this. Does the Air Force want it out
as one of the possible answers?"
Al shook
his head. "I told you it was just one man's idea. Security Review passed
it. That's all I know."
He put
the script in an envelope, along with the February cases he'd cleared.
"Show it
to your editors, and let me know their reaction as soon as you can."
I went
out, still astonished. Even if Al were telling the truth, it was
incredible that Colonel Odell’s suggestion should be made public now. On
the face of it, the Air Force was throwing caution to the winds. But
knowing the fight against even the film showing, I couldn't believe it.
There must be some other answer.
Stopping
under a corridor fight, I read over the entire script. It was quietly
written, the invasion suggestions sandwiched between discussions of
space travel and astronomy.
233
There was no hint
of a violent occupation of the earth. But nothing could reduce the
impact of Odell's suggestion.
If he
were right, unknown beings from a dying planet were considering the
earth as a possible haven—a new home in which to perpetuate their race.
Possibly, as Odell said, the long survey would prove our world was not
suitable. Otherwise, Planet Earth might become—willingly or not—a "host
to extraterrestrial life."
I went
into a phone booth to call True. Then I realized that the editors
would want to see the script and talk over all the angles. Calling the
airport, I made a reservation on a 5 o'clock flight, then I drove home
to get an overnight bag. Before I left, I phoned Riordan's hotel. Jim
was out, but I left a message for him to meet me, if he could, at the
airport. Maybe he'd have some idea of why the script had been cleared.
On the
way to the airport, I thought over Odell's suggestion. The mass
migration idea wasn't new—it had been used in dozens of stories and
plays. But I'd never taken it seriously; moving any large number of
people from a distant planet seemed impossible.
Of
course it could be done gradually, over a period of years. Even then,
the problems seemed enormous, though they might not be barriers to a
race which had long ago mastered space travel.
How
would Man, in some far-distant age, go about migrating to another
planet?
It would
depend, first, on the fate they faced on earth. There were two theories
as to how the earth would die. According to the first, it would slowly
cool, then become frigidly cold like Jupiter and Pluto. The opposite
theory held that the earth will get unbearably hot and finally bum up.
One scientist holding this belief is Dr. George Gamow, author of
One-Two-Three—Infinity! and professor of theoretical physics at
George Washington University. In Gamow's opinion the sun is producing
more energy and
234
constantly
expanding: at the last, our globe will be destroyed in a tremendous
explosion.
During
the first stages of cooling or heating, our descendants might escape
surface temperatures by building underground, air-conditioned cities,
surviving on chemically produced foods. (This was the Project Sign
suggestion regarding a possible race on Mars.) If the earth were
cooling and not threatened by an expanding sun, the human race might
exist indefinitely underground. But if there were a better alternative,
the chance of a normal, outdoor life on another planet, some earthlings
at least would undoubtedly try it.
In that
far-distant time, Man will certainly have mastered interstellar flight.
Long before the earth becomes unbearably hot or cold; our descendants
would begin to look for a new home in the universe.
Since no
solar-system planet has a climate like the earths, the nearest star
system would be explored first. Perhaps a twin of the earth will be
found; if not, the explorers would search farther.
During a
long exploration more than one earth "twin" might be found. If the
nearest one were inhabited, our descendants might choose a more distant
planet, especially if the planet race were strong enough to resist
invasion.
Once
Earth II was selected, bases would be set up and an occupation force
gradually brought in. On a planet similar to this, evolution probably
would have produced fish and fowl, also animals which the colonists
could domesticate. If not, small numbers could be brought to start such
life. Fields would be cleared and earth-type crops planted.
Even
with giant space ships, moving most of the earth's population would be
impossible. At first, probably, migration would be limited to
technicians, builders, defense forces, and their families. It might take
hundreds of years for Earth II to be fully occupied. Migration might be
voluntary, but probably it would be restricted to younger
235
age-groups—except
for key scientists and various experts.
What
would happen to the hundreds of millions necessarily left on earth? It
would be impossible to move all of them underground. Perhaps some plan
for gradual depopulation could be used—birth control enforced by
sterilization. In this case, long before the earth freezes, or begins
to roast under a blazing sun; it will in truth become a dead planet,
abandoned to its fate.
Fantastic as it sounded, this could well be the method of migration to
an uninhabited planet.
But if
the selected planet were inhabited, a different plan would have to be
used. The choice of such a planet might be forced on the earthlings; it
might be the only one on which they could survive. Or it could be a
cynically deliberate choice—the homes, industries, farms, and mineral
supplies of the planet race might offer short cuts to colonization.
Either
way, the fate of the planets' inhabitants would depend on the character
of future Man. By then, a wiser human race may have outlawed war, or
they may have degenerated into scientific barbarians.
If our
descendants were peaceful, they could suggest a friendly coexistence to
the planet race: the earth's scientific advances might be held out as
an inducement. But if future Man is a cruel materialist, he would take
one of two steps:
First,
he could destroy the inhabitants and take over their civilization.
Second, he could conquer them, then use the captive race for forced
labor.
Even if
the earthlings desired a peaceful occupation, it might not succeed. A
race too weak to resist would be no problem, but an advanced race might
fight. If the planet were the only possible choice for Earth II, our
descendants would probably use force if reason failed. Once in control,
they might persuade the inhabitants to cooperate in exchange for their
freedom.
It is
possible that the earthlings would discover a highly
236
superior race,
forcing them to renew their search for a second home. If none were found
they might, in desperation, stage a sudden attack with their most
deadly weapons, hoping surprise would overcome the inhabitants'
defenses. Should this fail, then underground life on earth would be
Man's last hope . . .
To the
world of '53, I knew the fate of future Man would be of little interest.
But Colonel Odell’s suggestion brought the exodus idea grimly down to
the present. His explanation might be mere speculation, without a shred
of evidence. But somewhere in the universe there were bound to be
planets far older than ours. If such an aging planet were inhabited, its
race—providing they traveled in space—would certainly search for a twin
to their dying world.
And that
twin could be the earth.
237
CHAPTER XIV
The Hidden Report
When
I went into the airport terminal, there was no sign of Riordan. He
came in a few minutes later, as I was leaving the American Airlines
counter. We went up to the deserted mezzanine and I told him about
Colonel Odell’s migration answer.
"Good Lord!" said Riordan. "Does the Air Force really believe that?"
"I
don't think so, but I'm puzzled at their letting Odell say it."
Riordan skipped through the typescript, pausing at the key points.
"It's fantastic," he muttered. "If an Intelligence colonel hadn't
written it—" he stopped. "There's one sure thing. If any other race
tried to muscle in here, there'd be one hell of a fight."
"It
would depend on their weapons—"
'We'd fight, anyway," grated Riordan. "I can't see Americans—or the
rest of the world, either—letting themselves be pushed off onto
reservations like the Indians. They'd have to finish us off before
they could settle here."
"I
still think one of the other answers is more likely. But even if
it's true, it doesn't mean they've definitely decided on the earth.
They may be considering some other planet.
238
They might have
trouble with our atmosphere; if they find they can't adjust to it,
they may give up. There could be a dozen reasons why they'd have
trouble settling here."
Riordan stared down at the crowded waiting room.
"It
could explain the long check-up—maybe why they haven't tried to
contact us. But somehow I just can't believe it. You don't take it
seriously, do you?"
"I'd
have to see some evidence first. Of course, this might fit Mars, if
Lowell was right about its being a dying planet. The Martians may
have developed space travel in the hope of saving the race. It's a
possible answer, but even if they did select the earth, it might be
years before they'd be able to start migration."
"And
if they tried it on a small scale, we could handle them. Also, we
might have space ships by then, maybe new weapons to hit them with.
Of course, if the earth was their only chance, they might rush
things." Riordan stopped, made a wry face. "Damn it, I still say
it's fantastic-Intelligence colonel or not."
The
loud-speakers broke in, announcing my plane's departure. Riordan
went down to the gate with me.
"The
thing that bothers me," I said, "is the Air Force clearing the
script."
"Maybe it was a fluke," said Riordan. "Could be it was passed by
some Review officer who doesn't believe in the saucers, so he
thought it wasn't important. He could've figured that taking off the
colonel's rank was enough to protect the Air Force."
"He'd have to be pretty dumb not to see what could happen."
"Sure, but that could explain its getting cleared. It's still a
hellish idea." Riordan gave me a crooked grin. "Even though I don't
believe it, I wish I hadn't heard it."
As
the Convair roared off the runway, I glanced at some of the
passengers, trying to imagine how they would take Odell's
suggestion. Judging from Riordan's reaction, most of them would
shrug it off as some scare-writer's brainstorm.
239
What difference
it would make if they knew his Air Force background, I could only
guess. Some might call it pure fantasy; Riordan had at first, and
he'd seen all the saucer evidence. Even so, releasing the story now
seemed to me a curious action.
The
airliner droned past Baltimore, and I looked down at the sprawling
city. Would this and other great American cities be coveted by that
unknown space race? Would they offer the homes, industries, food
these mysterious beings required? Or would their needs be totally
different? Even if they closely resembled us in form, they might
have developed a civilization so strange that ours would be utterly
useless to them . . .
That
night at my hotel I read the reports Al had cleared. Only one of
them added any new angle. On February 6, near Rosalia, Washington, a
saucer had circled a B-36 bomber. During this maneuver the pilot saw
a white light blink at two-second intervals. Before he had time to
blink his own lights in answer, the machine swiftly turned south and
disappeared.
The
other reports followed the usual pattern. On the night of February 1
an Air Force jet pilot had spotted several glowing saucers near
Terre Haute, Indiana. Later he saw the same group, or a similar one,
as he came into St. Louis. Three days later a Weather Bureau
observer at Yuma had tracked two discs with his theodolite. On
February 11 there had been two widely separated sightings. One disc
had paced an Air Force C-119 en route from Tunis to Tripoli. The
other had led a Marine Corps jet pilot a wild chase over Virginia.
The
last ATIC report was dated February 13, when three discs, in echelon
formation, had maneuvered near Carlstrom Field, Texas. During the
visual sighting the UFO blips had been picked up by a B-36 radar
man.
I
put the reports away. Possibly the rest of the 42 cases held clues
to the meaning of this new cycle. There were none in these six,
unless the blinking light had been some kind of signal.
240
Next
morning I took Odell's script over to True. Ken Purdy was out
of town, so I showed it to John DuBarry.
"It's a startling idea," he said. "But I'm afraid of it, the way
they've released it. Without Odell's rank, we'd be accused of
printing a scare story by some wild-eyed author. And frankly I don't
understand the setup. What's going on down there?"
I
told him about the battle over the Utah film and the new spurt in
sightings.
"This thing must be driving them crazy," DuBarry said. "Clearing
this Odell story baffles me, and it could have been a slip-up.
Anyway, even if the Air Force asked us to run it, with Odell's rank
and Intelligence connection, things are moving too fast. Before we
could get it into print, the Utah film showing will break the whole
business wide open."
"That's about how I figured it, but Chop asked me to find out."
After what DuBarry had said, I decided not to show the script to any
other editors. There was too much mystery about it.
For
two days after my return from New York, I heard nothing from the
Pentagon. Finally I called Chop, but a PIO told me he was in a
conference. I left word for him to call, and a little later the
phone rang. But instead of Al, it was Henry Brennard, the man who
had tipped me off to the Utah pictures.
"Did
you hear about yesterday's blow-up over the saucers?"
"No," I said, "what happened?"
"There's been a rush of new sightings—"
"I
know that. Chop told me."
"Well, most of them have been kept quiet. Then one hit the papers—a
huge disc over Lake Erie. It's worried some of the Pentagon crowd.
They're afraid it's the beginning of another scare like the one last
summer. Then on top of it an Intelligence colonel got an article
cleared—"
"You
mean the Odell piece? They let me see it."
241
"That set off another row," said Brennard. "Some of the Air Force
people are sore that Review passed it. They're afraid now that it
might be tied up with that AP story from the International Medical
Conference."
"I
missed that," I said. "What was it?"
"It
said they were on the track of a way to prolong life so people would
live indefinitely—hundreds of years, anyway. The AP had a statement
by Colonel J. E. Ash—he used to be head of the Armed Forces
Institute of Pathology. He said the earth would be so crowded we'd
have to start colonies on other planets."
"Oh-oh," I said.
"Yes—it's bad. If Odell’s piece gets published, some smart
newspaperman would be sure to remember what Ash said and tie the two
together. It's another argument for slamming the lid down on saucer
stuff."
"You
mean they've done that?"
"No,
but the Central Intelligence Agency recommended it," said Brennard.
"At least that's what I heard."
"How
did the CIA get into this?" I asked.
"The
Air Force gave some of their top men a secret briefing. The CIA
people advised them to put out a new report, debunking the saucers
the way they did in '49— tell the public the project was ended, and
then carry it on underground. It'd probably be top secret."
"They'd never get away with it—not with all they've let out now."
"I
don't think they'll even try. Some of the Intelligence boys were mad
as the devil at CIA for even suggesting it. Well, that's the
picture. I thought you'd like to know—it's turned into a knockdown
fight."
I
had barely put down the phone when it rang again. This time it was
Al.
"I've resigned," he said bluntly. "You'd better come in and meet my
relief."
"What the devil happened?" I exclaimed.
242
"This hasn't anything to do with the saucers," Al said quickly.
"Look, I heard there was a big row over the Utah film—" "I don't
want to talk about that now," Al broke in. "Come out to my place
tonight and I’ll tell you what I can."
Then
he hung up.
When
I saw Al that night, he told me that two Air Force groups were
deadlocked over the secret film.
"But
I'd resigned before that," he said. "I'm going out to
California—I've been wanting to get into private industry."
He
could see I didn't believe him.
"It's the truth," he insisted. "I might have put it off a while—they
wanted me to stay on. But the way this thing's worked out, I'm glad
I'm going."
"How
does the Utah deal stand now?"
"They're arguing over the statement." Al gave me a mirthless smile.
"One group wants to say the objects might have been balloons or
light reflections from gulls' wings."
"You're kidding!" I said incredulously.
Al
shook his head.
"But
the analysis!" I said. "Those speeds and maneuvers proved the things
couldn't be birds or balloons—or even jets. Both ATIC and the Navy
agreed on that"
"Yes—but the statement doesn't have to go into that."
I
stared at him.
"You
mean all the analysis conclusions would be left out?"
"It's not decided yet," Al said evasively. "They—some of the
people—are talking about running other pictures along with the Utah
film."
"Pictures of what?"
"Balloons and gulls. You know, with the sun reflecting from them."
"You
call that a fair deal?" I demanded.
Al's
face got a little red.
"It's not my suggestion—don't get mad at me." Then he
243
added, soberly,
"And don't get the idea that the officers who suggested it are just
trying to fool the public. They honestly think they're right—that
it's better to keep the thing quiet and not stir up people."
"It's a dangerous gamble, Al. If something happened suddenly and
nobody was prepared—"
He
nodded. "I know. But it isn't settled—we may win yet.
"You're still in on the fight?" I said, surprised.
"Yes, my resignation doesn't take effect for a few days." Al
squashed out his cigarette. "There's one thing they've lost sight
of, in all these arguments. The country's top newspapermen and
commentators will be invited to that showing. They're no
fools—they're bound to see through a setup like that."
I
thought it over a moment.
"You're dead right. They'll want to know why the big build-up over
nothing."
"Absolutely. They'll want to know why we've got them in for this
special showing, if the Utah film is just pictures of balloons or
birds. The film was shot in July, and they’ll ask what we've been
doing with it all this time. Even if we don't mention the ATIC and
Navy analysis, they’ll smell a mouse. Before it was over, the Air
Force would be in a real jam."
"You
going to tell them that?"
"Yes, I think somebody ought to warn them." Al gave me a dry grin.
"Maybe I'm a fool for sticking my neck out but I'll give it a try."
As I
was leaving, he told me the final decision would probably be made by
the next afternoon.
"If
you want to, come in about 4. I'd rather not discuss it on the
phone."
When
I went in to the Pentagon, next day, Al was not at his desk. It was
almost an hour before he came back.
"Is
it settled?" I asked quickly.
He
gave me a grim look.
244
"It's settled, all right—the whole thing's killed."
"They're going to keep the film secret?"
"There won't be any public showing—you can take it from there."
"How'd it happen?" I said.
"After they saw my point, it boiled down to telling all or nothing.
So it's nothing."
Al
sat down and looked dully at the floor.
"It's not right," I muttered.
"The
other side thinks it is," Al said. "They think it's the wisest
decision. But some of the Intelligence people are pretty sore. They
don't think the public's getting a fair shake."
"I
don't either. And the more I think about it—Al, I'm going to break
this story!"
"There's nothing to stop you—you got the facts cleared. And plenty
of our people will be glad to see it come out, so long as you don't
give the whole Air Force a black eye."
"Don't worry. I know it's only a small group that blocked this."
Anger over the decision, I found, went far beyond Air Force
Intelligence. Next day I received an unsigned note on plain paper,
urging me to tell the Utah film story. I recognized the handwriting
of a Defense official who knew I was writing a book. Like Al, he
asked me not to blast the entire Air Force. Then he added an acid
comment:
"There are some human ostriches in the Air Force, and outside as
well, who stick their heads in the sand and refuse to accept the
most positive evidence. It is no accident that these people haven't
correlated the saucer sightings—they obviously fear it will prove
facts they don't want to face. But there is a definite pattern, with
clues which eventually will give us the final answer."
The
tone of his letter didn't surprise me. After the licking the "A"
group had taken, they were bound to be bitter. What their defeat
would do to the clearance policy, I
245
could only
guess. The lid might go down again on all ATIC cases. But I didn't
need any more sighting reports— the evidence I had was enough to
prove the main points.
Only
one thing was missing—an Air Force report that the saucers came from
space. Considering all the facts they had, it seemed almost certain
there must be such a report. But the chance of finding out now was
about one in a thousand.
Then
it suddenly occurred to me that Brennard might have a lead. When I
phoned him, I found he already knew about the Utah film decision.
"I'm
not surprised," he said. "I never really thought they'd let that
out."
"It'll be out, all right," I told him. "I got it cleared."
"How
the devil did you finagle that?" Brennard exclaimed.
"I
just asked for it and Chop OK'd it."
"I’ll bet somebody higher up told him to, so the public would get
the story if the showing was blocked."
"Maybe, but if so he didn't let on."
"With that and all the other cases," said Brennard, "you've
certainly got proof the saucers are interplanetary."
"Everything but an Air Force admission. I've got a hunch there's a
secret report with that conclusion. Any leads?"
Brennard hesitated.
"I
heard one thing, but it isn't absolute proof. A month or so ago an
official I know was secretly briefed on the saucers. He used to
think they were a joke. But after that briefing he told me he was
convinced they were extraterrestrial."
"That's the biggest break yet! The Intelligence officer must have
said it was the Air Force conclusion."
"It
sounds like it, but it could be just his personal opinion."
"Even so, that's still a break. I'm going to ask Chop about this
before he leaves for the coast."
246
By a
coincidence Al phoned just as I was about to dial his home number—he
had already quit the government.
"I've forgotten your street number," he said. "I've got something to
mail you."
"Hold it—I’ll be right out," I said. "I want to see you for a
minute."
When
I saw Al, I told him what I'd heard about the briefing.
"Doesn't this prove there's a secret report?" I asked.
Al
was silent so long I gave up.
"I
can't violate security," he said finally, "even if I am out of the
service. But I can tell you this. Last fall there was a detailed
analysis of all the evidence. I can say that because it wasn't
classified when I saw it. After ruling out all other explanations,
it came to a definite conclusion. I can't tell you what that
conclusion was—by now it's probably top secret."
It
was maddening to get so close, only to have the door slammed. I made
one last try.
"Al,
you've seen all the evidence. Will you tell me your conclusion—as a
private citizen?"
He
gave me an odd look.
"Maybe this will be even better." He took out the folded carbon of a
letter. "This is what I was going to send you. It's our official
answer to a letter from your book publishers. Those ATIC cases you
outlined must have scared them."
"But
I told them the cases were cleared—"
"They wanted an official OK, addressed to them. They got it, also a
statement that the Air Force regarded Major Keyhoe as a responsible,
accurate reporter—but here, read it yourself."
I
picked up from where he'd left off:
"His
long association and cooperation with the Air Force, in our study of
unidentified flying objects, qualifies him as a leading authority on
this investigation.
"The
Air Force and its investigative agency, Project
247
Bluebook are
aware of Major Keyhoe's conclusion that the flying saucers are from
another planet. The Air Force has never denied that this possibility
exists. Some of the personnel believe that there may be some strange
natural phenomena completely unknown to us, but that if the
apparently controlled maneuvers reported by many competent
observers are correct, then the only remaining explanation is the
interplanetary answer."
For
a second I just stood there, staring at the last sentence.
It
was an official Air Force admission that the saucers came from
space!
There wasn't the slightest doubt that the saucers' maneuvers were
controlled—and Air Force Intelligence knew it. Hundreds of veteran
pilots, from Wing Commander Curtis Low on down, had sworn to that.
And the simultaneous radar and visual tracking reports proved it
beyond all question.
I
drew a long breath.
"This does it, Al. I've waited four years for this."
"I
thought you'd be interested," he said dryly.
"I
guess I don't have to ask what you believe, now."
"I've been convinced for a long time that the saucers are
interplanetary. There's no other possible answer."
"One
more question," I said. "Do you have any idea what they're up to?"
"No.
And I'm positive no one in the Air Force knows for sure. It could be
any of a dozen motives—including Odell's answer."
Al
paused and looked at me solemnly.
"But
one thing's absolutely certain. We're being watched by beings from
outer space. You've been right from the very start."
248
Epilogue
Five
months have passed since I learned of the secret Intelligence
analysis. Few sightings have been made public in that time, but the
mysterious surveillance is still going on. Despite all this, no
steps have been taken to prepare the American people.
We
are nearing the possibly fateful year of 1954. According to the
Joint Chiefs of Staff, Russia will then be able to stage a mass
A-bomb attack. Leaving the saucers officially unidentified adds to
that grave danger. Prior to its D Day, the Soviet might suddenly
claim these machines as secret Red weapons. By starting false rumors
of Russian saucer attacks, they might cause stampedes from cities,
block defense highways, and paralyze communications just before an
A-bomb raid.
It
is imperative that we end this added danger. At the same time we
should also try to forestall panic if the saucers should suddenly
land. To that end, I believe four steps should be taken as quickly
as possible:
1.
The secret Intelligence analysis should be made public, with all the
evidence which led to the final conclusion.
2.
The Utah film should be released, with the detailed statements by
Air Technical Intelligence and Navy Photo-Interpretation.
249
These
two steps, with their massed evidence that the saucers are
interplanetary, are almost certain to prevent any false Soviet claims.
At the very least, they would greatly reduce any chance that die trick
would succeed.
The
other two steps are equally important:
3.
Project Bluebook should be expanded, given the full-time services of
top-level scientists, and coordinated with foreign investigations. An
integrated world-wide investigation will probably reveal new facts,
especially clues to the motives of the unknown space race.
4. A
plan for communication and eventual contact should be drawn up and made
world-wide if possible. Such a plan should include standard radio and
visual signals for all aircraft, ships, and ground stations. Detailed
steps should be worked out to cover every possible development, from the
first message to the saucer landings.
If there
is any hidden proof that attack or invasion is planned, we should be
told at once. The American people have risen to supreme heights before.
They would undoubtedly meet this danger, after the first hysteria, as
bravely as they have faced all of our great crises. And with our leading
scientists working on the problem, perhaps some defense might be found.
However,
there is at least an even chance that the space race means us no
harm—they may be waiting only for proof that landing here is safe.
All of
us—every nation—should be told the truth and made ready for saucer
landings. Even if we are fully prepared, there will be tense moments. We
must accept the possibility that the saucer creatures may differ from us
in form. Even if they are utterly friendly, their strange appearance
could cause panic. But there may be no such problem. These beings from
another world may resemble us closely, in form if not in size.
Regardless of their appearance, we must be ready to match the
friendliness of any strangers from space.
Those
first meetings with beings from another world
250
could be the
greatest adventure of all time. But we must guard against fear, panic,
and violence by our own people, so that no tragic blunder will change
peaceful visitors from space into deadly enemies.
For
those first dramatic moments may decide the fate of our world.
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