Part I: Aboard A Flying Saucer!
Late in July, 1952, Truman Bethurum received a frantic
long distance telephone call from his friend E. E. "Whitey" Edwards insisting
that he leave the cool comfort of Santa
Barbara, California, where he was waiting out an Operating
Engineers strike, to sign on as Batch Plant operator and night mechanic
at Edwards' asphalt mixing plant under the blistering summer heat of Mormon
Mesa, Nevada. He accepted reluctantly, compelled by his friendship
with Edwards, as well as his strike-strained finances, and soon found himself
sweating between the blacktop and the merciless desert sun.
Bethurum had heard about flying saucer sightings in the
Desert Southwest by 1952, everyone had. But he was not a believer,
nor could he have suspected that by responding to his friend's call, he
had taken his first step toward the greatest adventure of his life extraterrestrial
contact.
STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT
On July 27th, after completing an evening work shift at
the asphalt plant, Bethurum set off into the desert in his small truck.
His wife loved the sea, and he had heard that the vast Nevada wasteland
had once, long ago, been covered by ocean. He hoped to locate a variety
of ancient, fossilized shells for her collection. But even with a
bright full moon and a flashlight, he had no luck. After a long day
under the blazing sun, the cool desert night lulled him toward sleep, and
he decided to take a short nap under the stars before turning back empty
handed to the work camp and another day of labor.
As he dozed in his truck, a soft hum broke through
his dreams, and, as he came fully awake, he was shocked to find his vehicle
surrounded by a group of small men, each
between 4 and 5 feet tall. The men were mumbling
to each other in a low, unintelligible language, the "hum" which had awakened
him. Each wore an unfamiliar black uniform, a black-billed cap, and
trousers that reflected a blue-gray cast under the bright moonlight.
The flesh of their dark faces was taught and hard, free of any wrinkle
or blemish. No weapons were apparent.
Bethurum froze with fright and noted the truck's open
windows with alarm. One of the men stepped close and spoke to him
in the strange language. Bethurum indicated as best he could that
he did not understand, at which point the man nodded, then said in clear
English, "You name it!"
Hearing his own tongue spoken sent a wave of relief rushing
down Bethurum's spine, and he climbed out of the truck, his hand extended
in friendship but what he saw next sent him once again into stunned paralysis,
freezing his greeting in his throat hovering low behind his truck was
a flying saucer!
A monstrous disc of burnished steel, the saucer meas-ured
300 feet across and six yards deep at its center. A three foot metal
rim encircled the craft. Wingless and free of any visible means of support,
the disc floated as if weightless several feet above the scrubby desert
brush.
The little men crowded around him, anxious to shake his
hand. One fellow identified himself as the group's leader and, grasping
Bethurum's arm firmly, agreed to introduce the Earthling to their ship's
captain. As they moved together toward the waiting craft, Bethurum
asked his guide what country they called home. Like a character from
a Brothers Grimm fairytale, the little man answered cryptically, "Our homes
are our castles in a far away land."
As they neared the saucer, the whole disc tilted toward
them, revealing a landing step with a single hand rail. They ascended and
entered the vehicle through a topside
doorway. They walked fifteen paces down a brightly-lit
corridor, then Bethurum was ushered into a furnished cabin, where he fell
once again into stunned silence to behold the ship's captain - a beautiful
woman.
THE LADY CAPTAIN
She was shorter than the men he had seen thus far. Black-haired,
olive-skinned, she wore no jewelry or makeup. Her uniform was a bright
red skirt, velvety black blouse, and a black and red beret. Her proud
eyes considered Bethurum for a long moment. Apparently satisfied,
she dismissed his escorts, then gestured for him to take a seat on a long
couch which lined the far wall.
She began by explaining that she and her crew were interplanetary
travelers who had only very recently begun their contact with Earth.
Amazed, Bethurum asked about their planet of origin and how they managed
to survive the great lengths of time required to traverse the void of space.
She responded that time and distance we inconsequential to her people,
and that such questions held little meaning for them. She made it
clear that her
race had already, in their short stay, divined Humanity's
warlike nature, and warned that, although theirs was a peaceful, religious
and understanding people, they were also cautious and well-equipped to
evade attack or capture by Earthly military powers.
He watched her striking figure as she talked, and again
made note of the strange, taught quality of the skin he had noticed in
the little men. Her face was gaunt and sharp-boned, almost as if
some sort of plastic sheet had been drawn tight over an underlying frame.
Her dark eyes reflected great understanding, and seemed to guide his questioning,
leading him psychically toward certain questions, away from others.
In a hypnotic, sing-songy voice, like someone reading Mother Goose stories
aloud to a child, she questioned him about his work, and about the men
building structures in the desert (the asphalt plant).
She answered his questions, too, explaining that, while
some of the flying saucers being sighted in American skies belonged to
her people, the more bizarre news stories involving monsters with hooks
or grotesque tails were creations of liars seeking publicity.
As if in response to some imperceptible signal, the lady
captain rose without warning and led Bethurum back down the long corridor
and out of the saucer. As they emerged into the desert air through
the topside portal, he was shocked to discover that the sun was already
well over the horizon. Many hours had passed in what seemed to him
like mere moments.
He thanked his interplanetary hosts for allowing him
to come aboard the "Admiral's Scow," as they had referred to their ship.
The captain promised to return soon to visit him again all he needed
to do was to think the place and the day. She and her crew would
hear his thoughts and keep the appointment.
The great saucer dipped again toward the sandy desert
floor. Bethurum stepped off and the door closed silently behind him.
As the disc rose away into the dawn sky, he examined its immensity end
to end in the sunlight. No propellers, rudders or exhaust vents dimmed
its gleaming exterior. It made no sound at all as it drifted toward
the clouds then vanished suddenly, without leaving so much as a vapor trail
in its wake.
SPILLING THE BEANS
Bethurum resolved not to tell anyone about his experience.
On the long ride back to the work camp, he imagined the ridicule and persecution
he would receive if his fellows knew what had transpired the same ridicule
and disbelief he would have heaped on anyone telling him the same story
only the day before.
The last thing he expected was corroboration of his experience.
When he got back to the camp, he was surprised to find Whitey Edwards waiting
anxiously for his return. Had an airplane landed or crashed in the
desert? His boss had personally witnessed something huge and metallic descending
toward Bethurum's location in the night. What was it? Had Bethurum
seen it land?
"It...," Bethurum admitted reluctantly, his natural honesty
getting the better of him in the face of his friend's genuine concern,
"... It was a flying saucer!"
The rest of the day he got the jokes and jibes he expected
as his fellow workmen teased him about "little green men," and questioned
his sobriety and sanity. But, to his surprise, a few of the men asked
him serious questions, too, allowing themselves to wonder at the possibility
of life on other worlds.
When the workday was done, Bethurum returned to his small
hotel room. He was still so highly charged from the encounter that,
with shaking hands, he located stationary and pen, wrote out a letter,
and placed it carefully on the nightstand before retiring to his dreams:
"If I am found dead in my bed," he wrote, "it will be
because my heart has stopped from the terrible excitement induced by seeing
and going aboard a flying saucer!"