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"Well, gee." Toby wrestled with his thoughts.
"Toby," Gramp said sharply.
Tell him, a small voice in Toby's mind urged. Startled, he jerked erect, at
the same time realizing that the speaker had been Barlo. Barlo had been
reading their minds! Then he realized the danger from the vigilantes. He saw
his grandfather's waiting expression. Linda was clasping her hands nervously.
"It's just a friend," he answered desperately.
"A friend, eh? Do you generally keep your friends in the barn?"
"Well, gosh," he sputtered.
Gramp cocked his head quizzically. "I don't suppose he would happen to be that
fellow they're looking for?"
It's all right, Barlo said silently. Tell him.
"I guess he is," Toby admitted.
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"From the ship Murdock claimed he saw?"
"Well, yes."
"Russian?" Gramp peered at him.
"Heck, no!" Toby exploded.
"What kind of a critter is he?"
"He's just a little fellow," he blurted. "He's real nice. I met him in the
hills after the hunters tried to kill him."
"He's trying to find a safe place to stay," Linda broke in.
Gramp asked sharply, "Where's he from?"
"The stars," Toby whispered.
"The stars, eh? Well, well." Gramp lifted his face toward the sky. "I
always held there had to be someone smarter than us in this universe."
"His name is Barlo," Toby rushed on. "You'd like him."
"I would, eh? How come you know his name?"
"Well, he knows our language."
"He does?" Gramp's voice sharpened.
"He reads our minds," admitted Toby.
"Looks inside our heads, is that what you're saying?"
"You might put it that way. He's a telepath."
"Sounds like a right smart critter," observed Gramp. "How long does he plan on
being around?"
"Only a few days." Toby explained about the disaster in space that had brought
the alien to the valley and the rescue operations which were certain to
follow.
"We have to keep him hidden until then," Linda broke in.
"I suspect so." Gramp gazed at the throng surging around the general store.
"But the barn's no place to hide him. You'd better talk to your mother about
keeping him in the house."
Toby shook his head. "He won't go in."
"Why not?"
"He's afraid he'd cause us trouble." He explained the alien's fear of what
might happen if someone found out where he was.
"He's probably right." Gramp frowned at his shotgun. "But we can't leave him
in the barn with those crackpots around. Besides, that danged hound tracked
him; they know where he is."
Toby asked worriedly, "Think they'll come back?"
"I suspect they will. Where's his ship?"
"Hidden in a gully."
Gramp shook his head dolefully. "They'll sure enough find it. When they do,
the whole countryside will be here."
"We could hide him in my barn," offered Linda.
"How could we get him there without being seen?" demanded Toby. The
complications seemed flowering on every side. He looked to Gramp for guidance.
"You'd have to wait until after dark."
"I could take him there tonight," he urged.
Gramp shook his head. "Tomorrow night, maybe. Cleator's gang will be watching
this place tonight. It's just the kind of a move they'd suspect." He peered at
Linda. "What would your folks say about it?"
"I don't know," she confessed. "I don't believe they'd mind, not if I
explained the whole situation."
"Could cause them a lot of grief," Gramp observed. "You wouldn't want to do
that."
"We have to do something," she insisted.
"Why don't we leave him where he is?" suggested Toby. "They don't know for
certain that he's there. If they come back, we won't let them on the land."
"And if they stir up a mob?" asked Gramp.
"I thought of that, but I don't believe they will. The vigilantes want the
credit, want to catch him themselves."
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"Probably." The old man gazed toward the wash. "We ought to tell Dan.
He'd keep those varmints away."
"We can't," Toby countered. "I suggested that, but Barlo doesn't want him to
know."
"Doesn't trust the sheriff, eh?" The old man peered sharply at him.
"It isn't that, it's the people above the sheriff." Toby explained about the
star drive and what might happen if the people of Earth suddenly realized that
an alien was among them who held the key to the stars.
"I can see that," admitted Gramp. "Sure wouldn't want some of these varmints
goin' to the stars."
"I'd feel better if the sheriff did know," said Linda. "He'd keep a watch."
Gramp shook his head. "Dan would have to make a report on it, do whatever the
law required him to do." He gazed thoughtfully at the barn.
"Think that critter could learn to play two-handed pinochle?"
"I believe he could," said Toby.
"Well, well." A smile creased Gramp's face. "Think I'll mosey in and get the
cards."
FIVE
San Diego Union
San Diego, California, July 27, 1974
FLYING SAUCER, RUSSIAN SPACECRAFT OR HOAX?
REPORTS OF THE SIGHTING of a strange spacecraft in Eklund Valley, nine miles
east of El Cajon, yesterday sent thousands of motorists flocking to the scene.
The state highway patrol and the sheriff's department dispatched units to
control the heavy flow of traffic that for more than eight hours clogged the
eastbound lanes.
George Murdock, a valley storekeeper, told the press that the spacecraft bore
Russian markings. "I could see it as plain as a hand before my face,"
Murdock said. At least a dozen eyewitness accounts labeled the vehicle a
flying saucer.
Bernard Olson, a valley resident, described it as "discus-shaped, with small
circular portholes around the perimeter." He gave its color as "an odd shade
of green." Olson said he believed it landed in the nearby hills. He told
reporters that he had spotted similar vessels in the area on other occasions.
Rear Admiral Carson M. Turlow, USN (Ret.)' Coronado, told newsmen that
"except for the circular shape and the portholes, the description of the
vessel fitted that of the sky sleds the Russians have developed to deliver
their fractional orbit nuclear warhead" (FONW). Turlow warned that this might
be an even more advanced design.
A high-ranking officer of the Eleventh Naval District refused to comment on
the report that helicopters from the Imperial Beach Naval Air Station had been
rushed to the scene. Reports from Eklund Valley indicated that at least two
helicopters were scouring the nearby gullies and brush-covered hills. At least
a dozen private planes were in the vicinity.
Two hunters, Thomas Carley and Harry Weaver, both city residents, told
reporters that they had been fired at by a giant gorilla with a ray gun when
they attempted to approach it. Carley said that when the flames burst out
around them, they escaped by fleeing through a ravine too narrow for the
gorilla to follow. He estimated its height at 14 feet.
Carley and Weaver led a search party back to the scene of the alleged
encounter. A reporter with the group said that while an area of recently
burned brush had been located, the searchers were unable to find any
footprints in the area aside from those probably made by the hunters.
An Air Force spokesman has denied any knowledge...
Another flying saucer!
Major General John J. Parman, USAF, let the report flutter to his desk.
The file cabinets already overflowed with such nonsense. Yet, uneasily, he had
to admit a difference. This flying saucer -- if he could call it that -- had
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been tracked from the Pole down to a final destination in the foothills a
dozen or so miles to the east of San Diego. Moreover, it had changed both
course and altitude several times, thus eliminating the possibility that it
might have been the reentering debris from some space shot or other. But a
flying saucer? He smiled skeptically. He was just thankful that no one had
panicked, pushed the button.
Still, an investigation would have to be made. The numerous eyewitness
accounts, sensationalized by the news media, demanded official action, if for
no other reason than to still the growing hysteria. If it wasn't Russians, it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]