Mister Foley's Encounter

January 21st, 2001

It's been almost two years since it happened, and I can just now begin to talk about it. I never could have before. It was all just too terrifying.

It all started in May 1999 when I attended the Pale Blue Dot II Astrobiology conference at Moffett Field in California. Keep in mind, I'm not looking for sympathy here. It's just that I have to get it all out of my system ... eventually... A catharsis so to speak. Perhaps relating the story will help do that. Anyway, I suppose I should introduce myself first. So you can put it all in perspective. My name is Herbert Foley. With a Ph.D. on the end. I'm a professor of astrophysics and astrobiology at Stanford University.

The reason I was at the conference was to present a paper I'd been working on for several years on the protocol of first contact. We've come a long way, you know, from the days of Dr. J. Allen Hynek who first got us started talking about what we'd do if we actually bumped into extraterrestrials. Since his early works, when our computers were fairly primitive, not a lot of real technical effort has been put into the science of first contact, despite what you may think from the movies. So when I heard that the President was forming a first contact team to be located at NASA Ames, I decided that I was going to be on that team. Presenting my paper was the first step in that journey.

Actually, the conference went quite well. My presentation was met with high enthusiasm and several commendations. Naturally, all my friends and colleagues in the field were there, and we had many pleasant and instructive discussions. It was what happened next that I have to tell you about.

And that all started when I decided to spend the following weekend with my sister, Emily, who has a ranch near Santa Rosa. So. Enough of this chitchat. Let me tell you what happened.

* * * * *

Friday, May 21st, 1999 was a cool and windy afternoon as I drove from Ames up to Santa Rosa, north of Sonoma. The temperature was in the low 60s (Fahrenheit! Ugh! Hate those units!), and I had the windows down on my pearl white A4 Audi as I cruised along Highway 101 at a leisurely pace. I adore the countryside in that part of the state, sprinkled as it is with winding, majestic two lane roads, ranches and wineries.

As I drove up the lane to Emily's house, I could see that she had just come back from a horseback ride and was taking the saddle off her horse. I parked the Audi in a stone covered parking area near the house and grabbed my suitcase from the trunk. As I walked up the stone covered walk way, feeling the gentle breeze on my face, I looked up at Emily's magnificent house. The upper level of the Redwood home was almost all glass, forming two large triangles and coming together in a prow. In the center of the prow was a stone fireplace that seemed to climb forever up into the blue sky. All around the edge was a redwood deck, and I could see some furniture -- a hammock and several lounge chairs. The sun reflected off the huge glass windows and made me squint. I brought my hand up to shield my eyes and looked back over my shoulder to see the view she has from that deck -- gently rolling hills as far as the eye can see. Fabulous.

Emily saw me approaching and ran towards me. Ah yes, Emily. She's a very tall and athletic brunette with obscenely short hair and the biggest brown eyes you've ever seen. Terrific, she looked, in those tight jeans and a red checkered flannel shirt. Emily works as a free lance commercial artist and makes more money that I will ever see on my merely adequate associate professor's salary. Why she never married again after her first, youthful and aborted marriage at age 19, I'll never know. She won't talk about it. And she seems happy enough with her horses and cats and dogs, but I'd sure like to see her find a mate one of these days.

She threw her arms around me and hugged so hard it hurt my chest. "Herb! It's so nice to see you! How was the conference? Did you have a nice drive up? How long did it take? Are you hungry?"

"Well, um ..."

"Of course! Come with me! I want you to meet Hair Trigger."

"Huh? What?"

"My horse. Isn't he wonderful?" Emily dragged me towards this monstrous tan horse. I got about a meter away and this ... this ... huge thing reared back its head and snorted at me. I think I left the ground as I jumped back.

"Whoa, there Trigger!" Emily grabbed the animal's head and ran one hand over the mane and the other down its nose. That seemed to calm it down. "He really is quite friendly, you know. Just a little nervous around strangers."

"I thought he was going to bite me!"

"Oh, he'd never do that. He's a gelding. A real sweetie pie."

I continued to back away, suddenly taken by the smell of this thing next to me that looked like it weighed at least 500 kilos. "What kind of horse is that?" I asked. (Knowledge is power, right?)

"He's a Palomino. Just like Roy's horse. Remember?"

I said I did, but I didn't really. I grew up in Manhattan, New York in the 70s and never really got into animal life. My dad was a dentist and we lived in an apartment until I went to SUNY. Hell, I didn't even see grass until I was six and we went for a stroll in Central Park. We didn't have pets either. My mom wouldn't have them in the house. At least that's what I remember.

"You must be famished, driving all afternoon." Emily announced with her usual sunshine smile. Here. Grab your suitcase and come inside. I bought some very special steaks. We'll have a sunset barbecue on the deck." As we walked around the back of the horse, to which I gave a very wide berth, it suddenly raised its tail, and there, as my eyes were transfixed upon these hideously large hindquarters, the beast proceeded to ooze out the most gigantic, steaming, three inch diameter stream of ghastly brown feces. Kaplop. Right there in the dirt next to me splashed at least an arm's length of this smelly brown ... shit. I almost threw up right then and there.

Emily saw me turn white and tugged hard at my arm. "Don't stare! Like I said, he's just a little nervous. Let's go inside and I'll get us some wine. C'mon!"

 

* * * * *

Dinner was, indeed, delightful. We nursed a pair of filets on her gas barbecue grill until they were perfect, smothered in garlic and pepper. Emily made us a feta cheese and cucumber salad, and we sipped on Merlot wine and nibbled on French bread while we sat at a small round redwood table and watched the sun set behind the rolling green hills. The air was crisp and cool, and I shivered just a little as I inched my chair closer to the grill. Emily went on and on about her latest contract with Studio 56 and gushed insanely about her newest G3 Blue and White Macintosh and flat panel LCD display. A blue computer? Sigh...

Soon we were pleasantly stuffed, so we opened the big sliding glass doors and retired inside to her great room and plopped into her sumptuous leather sofa in front of the brightly lit gas fireplace. As we chatted, I could see the sky turn from brilliant blue to indigo and the stars started to emerge. "Do you have a telescope?" I inquired, regretting that I had not remembered to throw my NexStar 5 into the Audi.

"Just a small spotting scope. An Orion 60 millimeter. It's not really an astronomical telescope. Got binoculars too. Over there on the table."

"I thought maybe I'd go out on the deck later. Maybe tomorrow, though. It's been a long day, and I'm tired."

That's when it happened. As I sat gazing at the sky through those tall, tall windows, something black and sharp jumped up onto my lap. I screamed and started to stand up, but Emily grabbed my arm and steadied me. As I focused on my lap and stomach, there appeared this large black cat, staring at me with gray-green eyes and it's tail sticking straight up. Emily held my arm as if to say everything was okay, and so I, frozen for the moment, heaved a sigh of relief and relaxed.

The cat's claws were digging into my thighs just a little, but not so much as to draw blood, and I waited while it did this strange dance, walking round and round counterclockwise on my lap at least three times before it slinked into a large ball of fluff and settled into my lap. It dropped its head into its front paws and stared at me with alien, vertical slitted eyes while its tail wandered back and forth, periodically brushing it's face.

"Go ahead. You can pet him now. That's Chewie."

"I think ... Chewie ... just shredded my slacks. At least it feels like it."

Emily reached over, lifted the cat's behind and looked at my pants. "Nope. You're fine. Here. Pet him like this." She took her forefinger and ran it along the cat's nose and up over its head. In a few seconds, the animal started making a thumping sound, as if there were some kind of motor running in its belly. "What's he doing now?" I asked, reaching out very tentatively.

"He's purring."

"That's a purr? It sounds like a small stepper motor." I put my finger out very carefully, and started to touch the cat's nose. As I touched the kinda wet furry nose, the animal licked my finger. It felt like wet sand paper.

"It's licking me!"

"Chewie. Chewie is licking you."

"Okay. Why?"

"Steak on your fingers?"

"But I washed my hands." And then ... then the damn thing bit me. "Yikes! Ouch!"

"Here, let me see." Emily took my finger in her hand and looked at it. No blood.

"Why'd he do that?" I whimpered.

"He was cleaning you first."

"Huh?"

"Cats like to clean their food before they eat."

"I'm food?"

"Well, kinda. Maybe he just likes you. See how he curled into your lap?"

As this animal sat curled up on my lap, apparently in the throes of falling asleep, I could feel it periodically clench its claws, digging sharply into a very, very private area. That was it. "I think I've had enough of this! Off!"

The cat slumbered on.

"Off!" I gave it a nudge. It lazily opened its eyelids, and I watched the vertical slits in its eyes change slightly as they adjusted to the light. The eyes penetrated me like laser beams, and yet seemed, all at once, distant and detached. "Why won't it move?" Emily leaned over, picked up the cat in both hands and dropped it, without ceremony, onto the hardwood floor. Swoosh. Hardly a sound. Then, without missing a beat, the animal sauntered over to the fireplace with a slow, arrogant, and deliberate motion, hardly revealing that it had just been picked up and dumped. And then, in one smooth motion, it collapsed on the rug in front of the fireplace and started licking its forepaws and then rubbing its eyes.

"You live with that?" I asked.

"Chewie and I are best friends," Emily gushed.

"It's a lethal weapon. Sheesh! It just about ruined my sex life!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby. Chewie is a sweetie pie."

"You know?" I sighed. "I think I'm going to bed. That was a wonderful dinner. I am totally stuffed. Thank you, sister."

"You're very welcome, brother. Geez, I'm trashed too. Horseback riding always knocks me out. See you in the morning."

 

* * * * *

The clock said 3:01 am when my eyes opened. All at once, I realized that there was a buzz in the air, a very low frequency hum that made the hair on the back of my neck start to stand up. I lay there, frozen, sweating slightly trying to figure out the source of the noise. I stared at the clock. It wasn't the clock. It wasn't a car.

It wasn't anything I had ever experienced.

I laid there, not really wanting to move, but the hum became somehow more ominous. It pulsated with a deep, electrostatic strength that seemed to agitate every nerve in my body. With some effort, I pulled off the covers and began to swing my feet out of bed. I had to know what was causing this noise, but as I sat up in bed, my mind was frozen with fear.

And then ... it got worse. Waves of pure evil swept over me. A raging, eternal, dark, foreboding evil penetrated my mind. It was as if the darkest angel of death had forced its way into my head as was trashing my psyche with abandon. I was being attacked!

What was causing this! I struggled to sit up. I had to go to the window. There was something out there.

No! NO! NOOOOO! I can't go out there!

Now you would think that a scientist would not have these kinds of feelings, right? Mister calm. Mister cool. Mister collected. In graduate school, at Cornell, they called me Mister Spock, fer chrissake!

Fight it! I rallied my mind, trying to, by force of will, deny this demonic feeling. Finally, with my knees shaking, I stumbled across the cold hardwood floor, got to the window and, fighting with all my mind, tentatively looked out. I pulled my head back, fearing what I might see and then realized my irrationality. What did I expect? I put my nose up to the glass and followed the line of the horizon, gently illuminated by the stars and distant lights.

Then I saw it. It was black. It glowed blue along the edges. I ran to the great room and almost fell over the coffee table as I lurched for the binoculars. Fumbling in the dark, terrified of what I would see, I slid the glass doors open to the deck and stepped outside, bringing the binoculars up to my eyes to scan the horizon.

Then the buzz was gone.

Completely gone.

The fear was gone.

The evil was gone.

I had to pee.

I stood on the deck for a long time, scanning the horizon, but the cold night air and my bladder forced me inside.

* * * * *

Emily and I sat on the deck the next morning and had breakfast. I was sullen and moody. I wasn't sure I wanted to talk about what had happened that night. I messed around with my croissant and orange juice, staring at the hill where I had seen the black thing. After a long, long time, Emily reached over and touched my hand. "What's wrong, Herb?"

I took a deep breath. I looked into Emily's deep brown eyes, seeing the question mark in her face. I took another breath. "I ... I ... I was up last night."

"So?"

"I saw something. Something black hovering over that hill there." I pointed.

"The night is very black here, Herb."

"It's edges were glowing blue. It scared the hell out of me. I think ... I think I saw a UFO. Maybe it was a spacecraft. It wasn't from this world."

"How do you know that?" Emily squeezed my hand.

"I sensed a presence there. Something alien. Very, very alien."

"That's pretty crazy stuff coming from an astrophysicist."

"I've never been so scared in all my life." Emily looked down and closed her eyes. I could see her taking deep breaths. "What? What is it?" I pleaded.

"Herb. There's an Air Force Base not far from here. We have that stuff happening all the time. The locals are used to it."

"Huh?" I was confused.

"Weird aircraft. Noises in the night. Stuff like that. You probably just saw one of those secret aircraft. You know. Area 51 stuff."

I gulped and took a sip of orange juice. Suddenly, I was blushing red as a beet. "Of course. Spy planes. Yep. That's what it was. Secret Air Force stuff."

Emily smiled. "Finish your croissant. I'm going to take you horseback riding today. It's a beautiful day, isn't it? That'll help you clear your mind."

"Horseback riding? Visions of Christopher Reeve flashed through my mind. "No way. No way am I getting on one of those ... those things! The stupid horse will kill me!"

"Do you plan to go galloping along at 30 miles per hour and leap four foot fences?"

"Hell no!"

"Then let me take you for a gentle stroll through the woods on Pumpkin. She's a sweetie pie."

* * * * *

My mind wandered as I drove back to Stanford through the wine country. I had survived a sunny day's gentle walk on the back of Pumpkin accompanied by Emily on Trigger. No big deal. I even took some pictures of us. The creatures are not too hard to deal with if you know how to handle them and sit on the saddle correctly.

Anyway, I figured I had some work to do when I got back to campus. Some revisions to my paper were probably in order.

I might even get a cat.

Copyright 2001 by John Martellaro, All rights reserved. Quantum Threads banner artwork by Tracy Haynes.

About the Author

John Martellaro lives in Colorado at 2,800 meters above sea level with a Ph.D. wife and two cats, Nikki and Data. He holds a B.S. in Astrophysics and an M.S. in Physics. His hobbies, include amateur astronomy, downhill skiing, bicycling, and listening to piano solos. His personal Macs are a B&W G3/400 with a flat screen Studio Display and a blueberry iBook.

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