viewing piece, side by side. The attendant is ready to enter coordinates into
the scope, has his hands over a keypad, and looks at the amateur expectantly.
The amateur has his piece of paper out and unfolded. He reads the coordinates
off.
Right Angle 5.151245, Declination +16.55743.
The attendant says,
Orion, eh? Lots of interest in that area lately.
The telescope hums and moves to a different angle. The attendant leans back
and says,
Take a look.
The amateur curls over the viewing piece, pulls back, moving away from the
eyepiece with a scrape of his stool. He gestures toward the eyepiece with his
hand.
Can we center on that light blob just to the left of
center? Is that supposed to be there?
In the viewfinder are several bright to medium bright stars with a light blob
off to the left hand side. The blob is lightest toward the center of the blob,
the light diminishing toward the outsides of the blob. The blob overall is
larger than the stars, which tend to be pinpoints of light.
The attendant leans forward to view. He adjusts the telescope to center the
object, takes note of a reading, and then gets up and walks to the side of the
room where large star charts are laid out on a table. He pulls one to the top
of the pile and locates the coordinates by checking the top and side numbers,
running his finger first down from the top and then in from the side. He turns
to answer the question, surprise in his voice.
No.
_______________________________
Out in space, Niburu, aka Planet X, the Planet of the Crossing, is seen
approaching. The whole scene is bathed in red, with red dust swirling about,
filled with debris. Stones and a type of gravel are on occasion seen in the
swirling mix. The planet appears to be a water planet but this is not obvious
because the red dust does not give it a blue hue. There is little land, less
than 10% land in various small continents, basically islands.
The tail, seemingly never-ending, has an occasional moon sized object, most
often in a dance with another such moon sized object. The debris continues,
but always the swirling red dust. A number of moons swirling around each other
curl like the tail of a scorpion. The red dust tail itself, electrically
charged, is likewise whipping and curling. Gray gravel and fine debris forms
its own cloud in the tail, and reacts to the motion of the moon swirls and red
9
dust swirls by swirling itself. The whole complex is a writhing monster as it
moves off into dark space.
_______________________________
Helicopter blades can be heard pulsing as the chopper looks down through
whispy clouds at a broad wheat field, golden in color. As the clouds part the
crop circle laid into the wheat is exposed. The wheat has been bent at the
nodes, not broken. Some grasshoppers are hopping across the bent wheat, trying
to avoid the approach of the noisy chopper.
A crop circle investigator is sitting next to the pilot of a helicopter. The
investigator has a video camera up to his face, but has pulled this away from
his face in order to speak. He has a distinct British clip. Through the
chopper window the wisps of clouds are still clearing in the early morning
light. The investigator says,
What are they trying to tell us?
The pilot says something almost unintelligible, given the background noise of
the chopper, and the investigator responds.
Yes, yes, overnight. . . There’s not a foot print down
there. We’re the first here. . . This is huge!
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_______________________________
Red and Martha are sitting on the porch swing just after dusk. It is summer
and the night is filled with the thrumming sound of singing insects. Red has
his elbow on the armrest and is holding a can of beer, one foot resting on the
knee of his other leg. Martha is adjusting her hairpins, and sighs by way of
saying that at last the end of day has arrived and she can rest as she drops
her hands into her lap and looks out on the view. Martha points to the horizon
at her left, at a Half Moon rising.
Dad, has the Moon ever come up over there? It’s always
more . . over there . .
Martha gestures toward the right, more centered in the view from the porch
swing. Red says,
Been that way lately . . but not in all my years
here, no. Damned peculiar.
Big Tom’s muffled voice comes from within the house, but we can barely hear
what he is saying.
. . bath night, kids . .
Martha springs up and dashes off, with Red not able to catch her with his free
hand as he gropes to catch her arm.
Rest awhile. Martha!
Martha throws a comment over her shoulder on her way into the house.
He always forgets their ears . .
Red smiles affectionately at the backside of his hard-working daughter, as
though he should have known better than to stop her. His gaze returns to the
rising moon while his face gets somber.
What’s chasing you lately?
Red sighs, as though to say that there is something amiss, but he doesn’t know
exactly what it is.
11
-Theories-
Zack Maya, the editor of the Daily News, moves slowly around his crowded
office. His baggy pants, wrinkled around the seat and sagging unevenly below
the knee announcing without fanfare the editor's priorities. The Daily is
successful, but the margin, as with all products that depend upon the fickle
public, required a nervous eye. Maya found he had to be a politician more
often than a reporter, and where this did not set well with his perfunctory
personality, he had learned to accept this as a fact of life. Some news came
with a price, when printed.
Maya eases into his worn leather chair, flipping the pages of a story laid on
his chair seat with barely time enough to grasp their meaning. Glancing up
through his bifocals at Danny, who has been watching from his desk and has
come to lean in the doorway, the editor is brief and to the point. Maya points
a finger at Danny.
This won't fly. I won’t print the story. He has no
proof! It’s just a crazy idea. Can I remind you that
you write for a conservative newspaper? You could
start a panic with this stuff.
Danny frowns and slips into a wooden chair in front of the editor’s desk - the
defendant's chair, not meant to be comfortable. Danny is listening but we can
see he's not buying this explanation. Maya continues,
Who's going to pay the merchants for damages, for the