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小说: jak.themothmanprophecies 字数: 每页4000字

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ls of those manifestations for many years。 When a black…suited man in a Cadillac turned up; he couldn't possibly be one of the endearing space people so he had to be a rotten; sneaky government agent。 It was inconceivable to the hardcore UFO believers that the flying saucers would be a permanent part of our environment and that these men in black were residents of this planet associated with the UFOs。
  
  But this is a fact; the 〃truth〃 the UFO fans have sought for so long。 And as Daniel Webster put it; 〃There is nothing so powerful as truth; and often nothing so strange。〃
  
  You can't learn the truth by chasing UFOs helter…skelter through the skies in planes。 The air forces of several governments tried that for years。 It is vain to hire astronomers。 They are not trained in the kind of disciplines needed to investigate earthly phenomena; or even to interview earthly witnesses。 Interviewing is an advanced art; the province of journalists and psychologists。 One does not hire a parachutist to go spelunking in a cave or a balloonist to go diving for treasure。 If you need a brain surgeon you don't hire a horticulturist who has spent his life trimming plants。 Yet this is the approach our government has taken to the UFO phenomenon。
  
  I realized the folly of trying to measure the circle from some distant point; so I picked a microcosm on the edge of the circle…a place where many strange manifestations were occurring simultaneously。 And I hit the jackpot immediately; rather like the opening of an old Max Schulman novel: 〃Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Four shots ripped into my groin and I was off on the greatest adventure of my life。〃 
  
  
  
  
   2 … The Creep Who Came in from the Cold
  
  I。
  
  Friday; December 22; 1967; was bitter cold and the frayed Christmas decorations strung across the main street of the little West Virginia town of Point Pleasant seemed to hang limply; sadly; as if to match the grim; ashen faces of the townspeople who shuffled about their business; their eyes averted from the gaping hole where the Silver Bridge had stood only a week before。 Now the seven…hundred…foot span was gone。 Clusters of workmen; police officers; and assorted officials stood along the banks of the Ohio; watching silently as divers continued to bob into the black waters。 Occasionally ropes would jerk and a bloated; whitened body would be hauled to the surface。 It was not going to be a merry Christmas in Point Pleasant。
  
  A few yards from the place where the bridge had been; Mrs。 Mary Hyre sat in her office revising a list of the missing and the known dead。 A stout woman in her early fifties; her normally cheerful; alert face was blurred with fatigue。 She had had almost no sleep in the past seven days。 After twenty years as the local stringer for the Messenger; recording all the births; marriages; and deaths in the little town; Mrs。 Hyre suddenly found herself at the center of the universe。 Camera teams from as far away as New York were perched outside her door。 The swarms of newsmen who had descended on Point Pleasant to record the tragedy had quickly learned what everyone in the Ohio valley already knew。 If you wanted to find out anything about the area and its people; the quickest way to do it was to 〃ask Mary Hyre。〃
  
  For seven days now her office had been filled with strangers; relatives of the missing; and weary rescue workers。 So she hardly looked up that afternoon when two men entered。 They seemed almost like twins; she recalled later。 Both were short and wore black overcoats。 Their plexions were dark; somewhat Oriental; she thought。
  
  〃We hear there's been a lot of flying saucer activity around here;〃 one of them remarked。 She was taken aback。 The bridge disaster had dominated everyone's thoughts for the last week。 Flying saucers were the furthest thing from her mind at that moment。
  
  〃We have had quite a few sightings here;〃 she responded; turning hi her chair to pull open a filing cabinet。 She hauled out a bulging folder filled with clippings of sighting reports and handed it to one of the men。
  
  He flipped it open; gave the pile of clippings a cursory glance; and handed it back。
  
  〃Has anyone told you not to publish these reports?〃
  
  She shook her head as she shoved the folder back into the drawer。
  
  〃What would you do if someone did order you to stop writing about flying saucers?〃
  
  〃I'd tell them to go to hell;〃 she smiled wanly。
  
  The two men glanced at each other。。 She went back to her lists and when she looked up again they were gone。
  
  II。
  
  Later that same afternoon another stranger walked into Mrs。 Hyre's office。 He was slightly built; about five feet seven inches tall; with black; piercing eyes and unruly black hair; as if he had had a brush cut and it was just growing back in。 His plexion was even darker than that of the two previous visitors and he looked like a Korean or Oriental of some kind。 His hands were especially unusual; she thought; with unduly long; tapering fingers。 He wore a cheap…looking; ill…fitting black suit; slightly out of fashion; and his tie was knotted in an odd old…fashioned way。 Strangely; he was not wearing an overcoat despite the fierce cold outside。
  
  〃My name is Jack Brown;〃 he announced in a hesitant manner。 〃I'm a UFO researcher。〃
  
  〃Oh;〃 Mary pushed aside the pile of papers on her desk and studied him。 The day was ending and she was ready to go home and try to get some sleep at last。
  
  After a brief; almost incoherent struggle to discuss UFO sightings Brown stammered; 〃What…would…what would you do…if someone ordered…ordered you to stop? To stop printing UFO stories?〃
  
  〃Say; are you with those two men who were here earlier?〃 she asked; surprised to hear the same weird question twice in one day。
  
  〃No。 No…I'm alone。 I'm a friend of Gray…Gray Barker。〃
  
  Gray Barker of Clarksburg was West Virginia's best…known UFO investigator。 He had published a number of books on the subject and was a frequent visitor to Point Pleasant。
  
  〃Do you know John Keel?〃
  
  His face tightened。 〃I…I used to think…think the world of K…K…Keel。 Then a few minutes ago I bought a…a magazine。 He has an article in it。 He says he's seen UFOs himself。 He's…he's a liar。〃
  
  〃I know he's seen things;〃 Mary flared。 〃I've been with him when he saw them!〃
  
  Brown smiled weakly at the success of his simple gambit。
  
  〃Could you…take me out…t…t…take me where you… you and K…K…Keel saw…saw things?〃
  
  〃I'm not going to do anything except go home to bed;〃 Mary declared flatly。
  
  〃Is K…K…Keel in P…P…Point Pleasant?〃 〃No。 He lives in New York。〃 〃I…I think he m…m…makes up all these stories。〃 〃Look; I can give you the names of some of the people here who have seen things;〃 Mary said wearily。 〃You can talk to them and decide for yourself。 But I just can't escort you around。〃
  
  〃I'm a friend of G…G…Gray Barker;〃 he repeated lamely。
  
  Outside the office a massive crane creaked and rumbled; dragging a huge hunk of twisted steel out of the river。
  
  III。
  
  On April 22; 1897; an oblong machine with wings and lights 〃which appeared much brighter than electric lights〃 dropped out of the sky and landed on the farm near Rock…land; Texas; owned by John M。 Barclay。 Barclay grabbed his rifle and headed for the machine。 He was met by an ordinary…looking man who handed him a ten…dollar bill and asked him to buy some oil and tools for the aircraft。
  
  〃Who are you?〃 Barclay asked。
  
  〃Never mind about my name; call it Smith;〃 the man answered。
  
  The UFO lore is populated with mysterious visitors claiming inordinately mon names like Smith; Jones; Kelly; Allen; and Brown。 In 1897; they often claimed to e from known villages and cities and were even able to name prominent citizens in those places。 But when reporters checked; they could find no record of the visitors and the named citizens disavowed any knowledge of them。
  
  One of the proved hoaxes of 1897 (there were many hoaxes; largely the work of mischievous newspapermen) concern

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