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Diablo Mesa(32)

Author:Douglas Preston

They each looked through the binocular eyepieces, examining the grains under high magnification. Nobody said anything, and it was soon Nora’s turn. At first, all she could see were the giant grains of sand, bits of fluffy dirt, and fragments of plants and roots. But mingled among them were some round spheres of a greenish, transparent glassy material.

Nora stepped back. She wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, exactly—but the implications were not lost on her.

“All right,” said Banks. “What did you see? Let’s start with you, boss.”

“Well, I saw a lot of dirt and sand.” Tappan laughed. “I’m not sure I know what to look for, frankly. Some of that sand came in interesting shapes, like crystals.”

At this, Banks’s eyebrows went up. He exchanged glances with Skip, who seemed to be in the know. “Anyone else see anything?” He went around the room, but nobody had noted anything unusual beyond the crystals in the sand, some of which, when magnified, looked rather like diamonds.

Banks began to grow impatient. “Crystals! My friends, all sand under magnification looks like crystals. It’s mostly silicon dioxide, after all. Forget the bloody crystals! What about the microspheres?”

A silence settled.

“How did those grains become perfectly spherical?” He paused, looking around.

“Because they’re molten droplets?” Nora asked.

“Finally!” Banks broke into a grin. “They’re molten droplets that cooled in the air. Perhaps some of you also noted the greenish color? That’s a typical color of sand that’s been melted or vaporized. If you look closely, you’ll see faint swirling lines on some of the droplets. Those are called Schlieren flow lines. They’re typical of sand that’s been vaporized and then condenses in the atmosphere and falls back to Earth while cooling from a molten state.”

Tappan raised his head. “What does it mean?”

“Such droplets have a name: microtektites. Up until now, they have only been associated with powerful meteorite strikes. Yet I’ve found microtektites in every sample of dirt we’ve looked at so far. They’re everywhere—millions of them.” He looked around, the drama building. “So I wondered: Is there any evidence of a meteorite strike in this vicinity? I looked into that, and the answer is no.”

Another dramatic pause.

“The conclusion is inescapable: something struck the ground here with such violence that it vaporized a mass of sand. Such an impact could not come from a terrestrial crash of any kind—a missile or plane. There’s not enough energy in such situations to melt sand. It therefore had to have come from outer space. Something that entered Earth’s atmosphere at very high speed and struck the ground here.”

“Could it have been a satellite?” asked Nora.

“Yes, a satellite falling out of high orbit would be fast enough to melt sand on impact. The problem, Nora, is that in 1947, which is evidently when this impact occurred—judging by these artifacts you’ve found—there were no satellites. Sputnik wasn’t launched until 1957.”

A silence filled the room as the implications sank in.

“Well,” said Tappan, “that’s pretty stunning, Greg. I’d say we’ve just found the smoking gun, or something close to it. Proof that this was extraterrestrial.”

“Could it have been,” Nora asked weakly, “an unknown meteorite impact?”

“It’s possible,” said Banks. “But these microtektites seem to be associated with the groove you’re excavating, and it’s highly unlikely a meteorite made that trench. We would have found fragments. I’ve looked at numerous dirt samples, I’ve raked them with magnets, I’ve done chemical tests. There isn’t a trace of meteoritic debris, neither nickel-iron nor chondritic. No—whatever plowed that groove did not break up into fragments. It may have left subtle chemical traces, however. I’m having that tested now—I should have the results in a few days.”

Nora swallowed. This was pretty stunning evidence in favor of an extraterrestrial UFO. She glanced around the room and noticed an unusual expression on Bitan’s face. It was almost beatific with excitement. The others, in varying degrees, also expressed elation. These were by and large true believers, and they’d just been handed the proof they so fervently desired.

Tappan stepped over and gave Banks’s hand a vigorous shake, clapped him on the back, and turned to the group. “This is a big moment. This proves we’re on the right track.” He lowered his voice. “We need to keep this discovery under wraps. Absolutely under wraps. Do you all understand? You’ve signed NDAs, but I want to emphasize that we say nothing to no one. Because if word leaks that we’ve found proof this is a UFO crash site, the press will be all over this, the government might intervene—and our work will be disrupted, at the very least.”

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