With Mac's help, the Sheriff hauled some pieces of the metal back to the ranch house in his saddle bags. When they got back to the house he placed several pieces of the metal in the trunk of the car. Mac took him out to the work shed and demonstrated what he had tried to do with the metal. He also showed him some strange markings he had found on several pieces.
“What the hell is this stuff made out of?”
“Don’t know. Listen. When you hit it, it doesn’t even make a noise,” Mac said, slamming the heavy hammer into the metal.
“I’ll be damned. That is just too strange. I’ll take that stuff in the trunk with me and maybe someone can analyze it for us,” the Sheriff said.
“509th, RAFF, Lieutenant Cody.”
“Lieutenant Cody, this is Sheriff Wilcox. One of our local ranchers has discovered what appears to be some kind of airship crash. Who would I need to talk to about that?”
“I can take the information for you and pass it along,” Cody told him.
“Well, I really would like to talk to someone about it right now. It’s kind of a strange thing. I really don’t know where to begin,” the Sheriff stammered.
“I understand sir. Let me connect you with Colonel Blanch. He is the commander for the 509th Bomber Group.”
The Sheriff had rehearsed what he intended to say but now it sounded kind of crazy.
“509th Bomber Group, Colonel Blanch, how may I help you?”
“Colonel, this is Sheriff Wilcox. A local rancher called about what he thought was a downed aircraft. I went out to his place and well sir, I’m not sure what we saw. It was not an aircraft in the usual sense.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, it is round. Like a disk. Maybe the military has such a craft but I’ve never seen one like it.”
There was a long pause on the other end before the Colonel spoke, “A disk? Are you referring to a flying disk?”
“I honestly don’t know. It is round, made out of some kind of metal I have never seen before and….”
“Yes?”
“Well, we found a body. It doesn’t look human to me.”
“Sheriff, this is on the up and up isn’t it? Not some kind of practical joke?”
“Sir. I am the duly appointed Sheriff and I can assure you that I take my responsibilities very seriously. I wouldn’t waste my time on a practical joke,” the Sheriff said, raising his voice slightly.
“All right, Sheriff. I just wanted to make sure before I sent people out to check on this thing, whatever it is.”
“Understood. So you will send someone?”
“I’ll send Major Morsel and a team out. I want to see what you are talking about as well,” the Colonel said.
The Sheriff gave him directions to the Foster Ranch and made arrangements to meet him there at 7:00 p.m. It would give the Colonel enough time to organize a team and the Sheriff enough time to go back to the crash site and look around more.
At exactly 1900 hours, Major Morsel, followed by a 6 X 6 truck pulled into the Foster ranch. The Sheriff and Mac Brazel went out to meet them.
“Where is this craft?” the major asked after introductions were made.
“About a mile back, near a creek that runs through the property,” Mac told him.
“Can you lead us there?”
“Sure. I’m not sure the truck can make it. I’ve been going on horseback. The ground is pretty soft.”
“Do you have a horse I can borrow?”
“Why sure major. What about your men?”
“They can hike back and meet us. Sheriff, if you wouldn’t mind, could you show my men where they are going?”
“Sure. I guess I can do that.”
The major seemed surprised when the Sheriff mounted a horse.
“I don’t do marching major,” the Sheriff said, and headed to where the men were standing around talking and smoking. Mac brought another horse from the barn and handed the reins to the major.
“Damn. I miss riding. If nothing else, I’m going to enjoy this part.”
“It might be the only thing you enjoy,” Mac said, starting out toward the pasture.
He pointed out where the trench started and they dismounted several times so the major could inspect some of the debris scattered around the field. When they were close to the crash, they again dismounted and tied off the horses.
“Son of a buck,” the major said, his eyes transfixed on the crashed disk.
“What do you make of it?”
“It beats the heck out of me. I’m not aware of anything in our arsenal like this thing,” he said, rooted to the spot.
“Yeah. That’s kind of what I figured.”
Finally, the major started walking toward the craft. His eyes were darting around trying to comprehend what he was seeing. No matter what his eyes reported, his brain seemed to reject the information. It looked like a spaceship and he definitely did not think it was from this world.
As a military man, this was going against everything he believed. Spaceships were a hoax, and those that said they saw them were crackpots. Now here he was, looking at what was undeniably a ship from some other world.
“Over here,” Mac said, leading him to a clump of bushes.
“My God,” he said as he looked down on the small, grey-green hairless body. The large black eyes were open but not moving or blinking.
