20
SKIP, IN THE process of giving Mitty his evening walk, watched Nora go off to Quonset 1. As he turned to take the dog back to the trailer, he was approached by Bitan. Twilight gathered over the immense landscape and the first star had appeared in the west—actually, Skip thought, not a star but a planet: Venus, setting just behind the sun.
“Got a minute?” Bitan said. His voice was hushed, confidential.
“Sure.”
“Let’s take a walk.”
Bitan led Skip away from the encampment, walking quickly on his short, stubby legs. A fragrant spring breeze swept across the mesa, carrying with it the scent of dust and some mysterious blooming desert flower. Mitty followed them eagerly.
They walked perhaps a quarter of a mile; then Bitan abruptly stopped and turned back toward the encampment, nodding in its direction. “What do you see?”
Skip wondered if this was a trick question. “Nothing, really, just some lights.”
“Precisely,” Bitan said. “We’ve been walking for just five minutes, and covered—what, maybe several hundred meters? But already that dig is little more than a few gleams against the horizon.”
Skip nodded.
“People are funny creatures,” Bitan said. “Even the most intelligent of them—of us—are so easily swayed by self-deception. Here we are, talking about the Fermi paradox, the billions of planets teeming with potential life. But do you know something? This kind of talk is done mostly to reassure ourselves.”
“I’m not sure I follow,” Skip replied.
“We’ve walked such a short way, yet we can’t see the dig site. How many molecules of earth lie between it and us, do you think? Even this landscape, on a scale we basically understand, is staggeringly large. Can we truly comprehend the vastness of the cosmos? No. So scientists talk about parsecs and astronomical units and light-years because labels and measurements are comforting. We invent labels because, when we use them, it makes us believe we understand what’s really out there.”
“I see what you mean,” Skip said. “That’s what humans do. We label, categorize, measure, and dissect because it gives us the illusion of control.”
Bitan’s eyes gleamed in the dying light. “I had a feeling you’d understand, Skip. What are your thoughts…”
Bitan hesitated and Skip had the strong sense he was about to be confided in.
“…about alien abductions?”
This wasn’t the confidence Skip had expected. He paused a moment, then chose his words carefully. “I think some of them probably happened. Of course, some are just crazy people looking for attention. But some of the stories the abductees tell are just too grounded, too credible.”
Now a long silence ensued, and then Bitan said: “Those are my thoughts exactly.”
Another, still longer silence.
“Skip, may I speak to you in absolute confidence? About something never to be repeated to anyone?”
“Of course.” Skip could hardly believe a world-famous scientist was speaking to him like this. He felt a flush of warmth.
“You remind me of my own son, Azriel, who was killed in the 2014 Gaza War. So very curious, so full of theories. Half of the questions you ask, you answer even before they’re out of your mouth.” He went silent a moment. “Are you familiar with the Golan Heights?”
“Isn’t it the plateau that separates Israel from Syria?”
“That’s correct. It was occupied by Israel during the ’67 war. Israel retained it as protection, because Syria was shelling Israel from those heights. It is high and rugged and gets snow in the winter. It’s barely inhabited.”
Skip listened to Bitan’s low voice in the growing darkness, inflected with a pleasing Hebrew accent.
“As you probably know, most Israelis have to do a year of mandatory military service. I was no exception. Back in 1998, part of my national service was patrolling the Heights. I was a member of a small patrol. Our platoon leader divided us up for an exercise, and I got separated from the others in a place called Einot Si’on. A very remote ridge in the foothills of Mount Hermon.”
He paused to take a deep breath. Skip listened intensely.
“Toward midnight, I realized I was completely lost, so I settled down to spend the night on a ridgetop, where I had a view all around—keeping on the lookout for the lights of my patrol. I fell asleep. A few hours later, I suddenly woke to find myself in a bright, warm beam of light. I jumped up, thinking it was a search helicopter, but lost my footing and fell upward—yes, I know that sounds strange. A moment later I was inside a glowing, circular room, lying on a slab of iridescent material. Emerging from the glow came five alien creatures, humanoid in form, slender and gentle in their movements. They surrounded me. At the same time, I felt an incredible sense of peace, belonging, and oneness with these beings.”