The British reports numbered in the hundreds, in thirty to fifty locations distant from one another on the same night.
Besides, no matter what they were, they had engines, propellers, and wings, which is a pretty stupid thing to use on a zeppelin.'
'But there are more modern sightings of the discs,' said Castilano.
'Of course!' came a startled cry from Foulois. 'Back in 1880, by a French scientist, Trecul, a member of the French Academy of Science. Ah! He was a master observer, a serious and sober man, and he swore up and down he had seen a golden vessel flying overhead. More to the point,' Foulois continued, now standing as for emphasis, 'he also saw the big ship release a smaller craft that shot ahead of the golden vessel. Indy, my friend, the exact words he used were 'mother craft,' and that certainly fits what you are seeking!'
'Did he ever see it again?'
'Non.'
Indy scratched his head. 'What else do we have?'
'I was with that expedition to China in 1926,' Castilano said in a subdued tone. 'I never thought I'd talk about it, but—'
'Let's have it,' Indy pushed.
'Well, it simply never registered. I mean, an event in such a remote place. In fact, it was northern China, in the Kukunor district. That's rather close to the Humboldt Chain. To be even more specific, now that I'm rooting about in my memory, it was about nine-thirty the morning of August fifth. Not just myself, but the entire expeditionary group caught sight of something huge in the sky. Let me see, now.' He absentmindedly rubbed an elbow and tapped a foot.
'Ah, yes, we all agreed it was a large, even a huge, oval-shaped object.'
'Color?'
'Gold. Burnished gold.'
'Anyone use binoculars?'
'To be sure. At least four men. Had an absolutely clear view.'
'Any kind of exhaust trail?'
'None reported. There could have been, but—'
'Sound?'
'None that could be detected. We were in the midst of a pretty good wind, blowing snow, that sort of thing.'
Indy wanted to break things with his hands. So close! So close, and yet . . .
He studied Castilano. 'Filipo, my friend,' he said quietly, 'did anyone among your group, a research group, for God's sake, take a picture?'
Castilano looked stricken. He shook his head slowly. 'How I have wished that we did. . . . I will tell you this, Indy.
Whatever we saw was definitely oval. I have considered changing visual points, apparent shapes because of angle.
It was oval, and if I had a picture, I believe it would be the only confirmed photograph at the time of an extraterrestrial vehicle.'
'What makes you so sure it was off-Earth?' Henshaw broke in.
'We calculated distance and speed. It was moving with a velocity in excess of two thousand miles an hour.'
'So that leaves us with a memory,' Indy said sourly, 'and that's not much to go on.'
'Why do you say that?' Castilano protested. 'Fourteen eyewitnesses are but a memory?'
'That is all it is,' Indy said with a nononsense tone. 'It doesn't pin down anything but a sighting of something you cannot identify. Look, Filipo, if Will and Rene took up the Ford and did wild flying around this island and then flew away, and you had never before seen or heard of an airplane, and you had no pictures for later reference, what would you deduce from that sighting? I know, I know. Experienced, reliable observers are at hand. But when it's over, what do you have but a wild story? No matter if it's true.'
'Wait a moment,' Henshaw said abruptly. 'There is one thing that hasn't come up before. The Empress Kali incident. And that flat craft that hovered? I read in the report of one eyewitness that he said the edges of the ship, or disc, or whatever it was, weren't clearly defined. He didn't use that phrase. He said the edges seemed to waver, shift in and out of focus.'
Indy could hardly contain himself. It was exactly the kind of clue for which he'd been searching. He decided, at that very moment, to keep what he had just learned—what Henshaw's words had told him—to himself until later.
'Does that mean something important?' Henshaw asked.
'Sure,' Indy said, feigning indifference. 'Your witness has watery eyes.' He rose to his feet, making eye contact with Henshaw, then spoke to the group. 'That's it, everybody. We've gone over the ancient records and what we've come up with is that history is loaded with reports of unexplained things moving through the sky.
None of which does us any real good except that we've followed the proper rules—examine everything possible. Be ready for takeoff tomorrow morning, please.'
'What time, Indy?' Cromwell asked.
'Dawn.'
Cromwell groaned. 'You're destroying my beauty sleep,' he complained.
