"I'll get someone," said Kathy. "How much can I pay them? How's the budget on this operation?"

"As little as you can," said Garrison. "As much as you have to."

"All right, then," said Kathy. "I'll be in touch."

As she hung up the phone, Norton came in the door. "Jimmy is on his way," he said, "with the films. He got one of his pals to take over the station."

"That didn't take long," said Chet.

"I was lucky," said Norton. "Found Jimmy right away and there was this pal of his loafing around the station."

"We'll need one thing more," said Kathy. "Johnny will be calling back nine thirty or so. We'll need someone to hold the line for us until I get back here. The lines may be jammed, hard to get through."

"I think I have the man for you," said Norton. "I saw him just up the street. Old codger, name of Stuffy Grant. He'll do anything to get the price of a drink."

"Reliable?"

"If there's a drink in it."

"How much should I pay him?"

"Couple of bucks."

"Tell him I'll give him five. Impress on him he's not to give up the phone to anyone at all. For no reason, whatsoever."

"You can rely on him. He's got a single track mind. Sober now. He'll understand."

"I don't know what we'd have done without you," said Kathy. "That's all right," said Norton. "Johnny and I have been friends for a long time. Went to school together."

"There was a ear crushed under the thing that fell," said Chet. "Is it still there?"

"Far as I know," said Norton. "Patrolman is guarding it. Orders not to move it until someone shows up.

"Who's going to show up?"

"I don't know," said Norton.

"Let's get going, then," said Kathy. "I want a look at that car. Take some pictures of it."

"Go straight down the street," said Norton. "Follow the road down to the river. Not far. There's a police car with red lights. That's where you'll find it. I'll get hold of Stuffy and put him to work. See you later on."

At the end of the first block, they spotted the flashing red lights of the patrol car. When they reached the car, a patrolman stepped out of the shadows to meet them.

"Newspaper people," Kathy told him. "The Minneapolis Tribune."

"Could I see identification, please?"

Kathy took her wallet out of her bag, handed him her press card. He pulled a flashlight from his pocket, directed a beam of light on it.

"Katherine Foster," he said. "I have seen your byline."

"The man with me is Chet White. He's our photographer."

"Okay," said the officer. "Not much to see here. The thing, whatever it is, is across the river."

"How about the car?" asked Chet.

"It's still here."

"How about taking some pictures?"

The patrolman hesitated. Then he said, "I guess that would be all right. Don't touch it, though. The FBI has asked us to leave it as it is."

"What has the FBI to do with it?" asked Kathy.

"Ma'am, I wouldn't know," said the officer. "But that's the word I got. Some of them are headed up here."

They went around the patrol car and walked a short distance down the road. The crushed car lay at the end of the bridge—or rather, at the end of where the bridge had been. The bridge was gone. The ear was flattened out, as if it had been put through a rolling mill.

"Is there anyone in it?" asked Kathy.

"We don't think so, Ma'am."

Chet was taking pictures, walking around the flattened machine, the camera's light mechanism winking.

"Any identification?" asked Kathy. "A license plate, perhaps?" The officer shrugged. "I suppose there is, but not visible. It's Chevrolet. Several years old. Can't be sure of the model."

"No idea of who was in it? What might have happened to them?"

"Probably someone stopped to fish the pool under the bridge. Supposed to be some big trout in there. People often do that, I am told."

"But if that's the case," said Kathy, "wouldn't you think whoever it was would have showed up by now to tell about his big adventure?"

"That does seem strange," said the patrolman. "He might be in the river, though. The bridge collapsed when it hit. A timber might have hit him."

"Someone must have made an effort to find him." "I suppose," the patrolman said. "I don't know about that." "Did you see the thing that fell?" asked Kathy.

"Briefly. Before dark closed in. It had already crossed the river before I got here. It was there across the river. A few hundred feet beyond the river. Just sitting there. And big."

"It still was on the road?"

"On it, but extending over it on each side. Many times wider than the road. It had knocked down a few small trees."

"It's still sitting there, right now?"

"I'm almost certain it is. If it moved, it would knock down more trees. There'd be some noise. It's been quiet over there ever since I arrived."

"What's up ahead? Up the road, I mean?"

"Ma'am, that is a primitive forest area over there across the river. A stand of primeval pines. Big trees. Some of them hundreds of years old. The thing, whatever it is, is trapped, I tell you. It won't be able to get through the trees. It has no place to go."

"Any signs of life in it?"

"Not that I saw. Just a huge black box. Like a huge, awkward army tank. Except it seemed to have no treads. I can't imagine how it moves."

"And that was your impression of it? A big army tank?"

"Well, no. More like a big black box. A big oblong box that someone had painted the deepest possible black."

"Is there any way we could get across the river?" Kathy asked. "Not a prayer," the patrolman told her. "There's this deep pool under the bridge and fast water at both ends of it."

"A boat, maybe?"

"You could ask around," the patrolman said. "Probably could get across the pool in a boat. If you can find a boat."

"Up here," said Chet, "everyone's got a boat."

"I wish you wouldn't try," said the patrolman. "I'd have check on my radio. Probably I'd be told not to let you go."

"Any other way to get around?"

"Not on the roads. The roads are all closed."

"How about the people over across the river?"

"There aren't any people. That's a primitive forest area there. Miles of forest. No one lives there."

"Officer," said Kathy, "could I have your name? Could I quote some of what you've told me?"

Proudly, the officer gave her his name. "But go easy on the quotes," he said.

7. WASHINGTON, D.C

Porter stood and watched the press corps enter the room. They seemed more subdued than usual and there were more of them than he had expected. After all, this was a late hour for a briefing.

They filed in and took seats, quietly waiting.

"I must beg your indulgence for the lateness of the hour," he told them. "Perhaps we should have waited until tomorrow morning, but I thought some of you might want to know what we know. This, however, may not be a great deal more than you know.

"Basically, we only know that an object fell out of the sky near the town of Lone Pine in northern Minnesota. The Pine River flows just north of the town and the object fell so that it bridged the river, one end of it on the near bank, the other on the far bank. Curiously enough, it fell on a bridge that spanned the river. The bridge was demolished and a ear parked at the near end of it was crushed. No one, at the time, seems to have been in the car. Just before dark, the object moved across the river and, apparently, is still there.

"I think there is one additional matter to report. \Whether this ties up with the object that fell in Minnesota we don't know, but tracking stations have discovered a previously unknown and rather large object in orbit about the Earth."

The New York Times asked, "Mr. Secretary, you say large. Can you tell us how large and describe the orbit?"