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.”
