Jerry Oltion: Space Aliens Taught My Dog to Knit!

The next morning Delmer called Sid’s office number, but he just got an answering machine. He called Sid’s cell number, but that went to voicemail, too. Delmer fussed around the motel room for another hour, giving Sid time to get to work, then called again. Answering machine again.

Maybe he just wasn’t answering the phone. Delmer wasn’t doing any good at the motel, and he was going to have to check out soon anyway, so he decided to risk driving over to the office in person.

When he got there, after battling Seattle’s rush-hour traffic into the downtown area, he found that he was too late. The UFO people had already been there. The office had been ransacked; file cabinets lay on their sides and papers were strewn everywhere. Delmer took one look, then spun around and rushed back to the street. The sidewalks were full of people; it was impossible to tell if anyone was watching him or not.

As nonchalantly as he could, he walked with the crowd for the block and a half to his car, then he ducked inside and started it up and pulled out into traffic, cutting off a taxi whose driver honked the horn and cursed at him as he drove to the next light and turned right. The taxi went on, so Delmer went a couple of blocks before turning right again, then he drove half a block and pulled into a parking lot where he slid into a slot between a van and a pickup camper.

He switched off the car and watched in the mirror for signs of pursuit, but it looked like he’d gotten away clean. He wondered how much longer he could elude them, though. They’d taken Sid, and Sid did this sort of thing for a living. Delmer slumped in his seat. Living. God. He couldn’t go home, and he couldn’t go to work, either. In a couple of weeks the UFO people could just start searching the park benches at night and eventually find him.

He had to do something to turn the tables. Take the initiative and put them on the run. But what could he do? Sid had kept the camera, and now the UFO people undoubtedly had it, so he didn’t even have any proof that they existed. All he had was the address of the house where the woman had gone last night.

But they didn’t know that. There could have been two cameras, for all they knew. And half a dozen compatriots.

Smiling for the first time in hours, Delmer opened the glove box and took out a pen and his car logbook, tore out a blank sheet, and began composing his message.

They met by the fountain at the Center, the old World’s Fair site in the middle of town. The Space Needle towered overhead like a flying saucer speared on the Eiffel Tower; a fitting omen, Delmer thought, for the business at hand. He waited in plain sight, trying to project an aura of confidence. Either they believed his threats of setting up blind mail drops to the press or they didn’t; skulking about and trying to spot their agents before they spotted him would only cast doubt on his story.

So he watched a couple of high-school kids tossing a Frisbee back and forth across the open bowl of the fountain until he heard footsteps approaching him from the side. He looked over casually, then felt his legs buckle when he recognized his contact.

“Leo!” The friend he’d watched die from poison in a hotel bar reached out to steady him, and Delmer wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. “Leo, how did you…” Then he noticed the blond woman dressed in imitation grunge standing behind Leo, trying not to smirk, and realization came all at once. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

“Got it in one,” Leo said, gently disentangling himself.

“Wow,” Delmer whispered as the implications hit him. If Leo was in on the conspiracy, then it had to be even more far-reaching than he’d thought. “You were trying to scare me off,” he said.

“Two for two,” said Leo. He sat down on the stone rim ringing the fountain. “It worked for your detective buddy. He agreed to keep quiet after we ransacked his office. You’re a stubborn S.O.B., though. I’ve got to admit I misjudged you.”

Delmer sat down beside him. No matter what, he had to keep playing the role. So, as gruffly as he could manage with a throat that was still all choked up with relief over finding his friend alive, he said, “Don’t do it again.”

Leo laughed. “We won’t.”

“Good.” Delmer looked over to the woman who’d come with Leo, but she was no longer standing where she’d been. As casually as he could manage, Delmer scanned the crowd, but she had disappeared. Gone home, or gone into hiding to better protect Leo? Delmer decided not to make any sudden moves, just in case.

“No, we’ve decided you’re a big enough pain in the ass, we’d be better off having you on our side.”

Delmer had to put his hands down on the stone to hold himself upright. All his preconceived notions had been smashed to splinters in an instant. The Black Space Program wanted him? Because he was a pain in the ass? He looked into Leo’s eyes to see if he could spot any hint of deception there, but he saw only friendly amusement in his expression. “Really?” he asked. “And Sid wasn’t?”

“Sid’s a detective. They learn real quick not to mess with things that’re bigger than they are. Not unless they’ve got enough leverage to deal with it, which he didn’t as soon as we found his camera.”

“Well, I’ve still got mine,” Delmer said. “Or my buddies do. But before I agree to join anything, maybe you ought to tell me just who I’d be joining.”

Leo nodded. “Fair enough. You had it pretty close, you know. NASA and the Air Force are in on it, and most of the major defense contractors. And the Catholic church; you got that right too. The only one you missed was the movie industry. We’re in it clear up to our panaflexes.”

“But—but you haven’t made any movies about it! How could you keep it quiet!”

Leo laughed. “We haven’t, really. All those nifty special effects you’ve been seeing for the last couple decades—that’s not computer-generated. Most of it’s actual footage. We’ve been making a fortune off this, but we just haven’t put it all together into one big film yet.”

“Wow,” Delmer said. “You mean Star Wars is real? There really is a battle going on out there?”

“Probably somewhere,” Leo said. “It’s a big universe. But no, Lucas just dresses up a few dozen ships to look like fighters and makes adventure movies.”

Delmer shook his head in amazement. “Special effects. Of course. Jeez, how could I have missed that?”

“Hey, don’t be too rough on yourself. You weren’t supposed to figure out any of it.”

That made him feel a little better, until he realized the one organization Leo hadn’t mentioned. “What about SETI?”

Leo shook his head. “They’re still in the dark.”

“Why? I’d have thought the alien contact people would be your top guys.”

“They would,” Leo said with a smile, “except we’ve already made contact years ago.”

Delmer nodded knowingly. “Of course. 1947, Roswell, New Mexico.”

Leo nodded. “Among others. Our base on the far side of the Moon is full of ‘em. Well, what do you say? Will you join us?”

Delmer had to fight to keep from babbling. Of course he’d join them. He’d do it just for the chance to ride into space aboard a genuine UFO—though he supposed they were no longer unidentified, at least from his point of view.

But was Leo’s offer sincere? Delmer wanted to think it was, but after the last day’s experience he realized he could never trust anyone completely again. Nor could he afford to let them think he did. So he nodded slowly and said, “I’ll join you on one condition. If I don’t like what I see, you let me go in exchange for my silence. I’ll keep my photos of your people and your ship, and I’ll keep my blind drop setup so you can’t double-cross me, and we’ll both just go on about our business as if nothing had ever happened.”