suppose CGI was used to create the balls of light, how could humans
or any machine produce something so complex in such a short span of time?”
They paused to listen to the neighbors talk with Frank.
Iris noticed each of them nodding and pointing to the field in turns. They all
seemed to have experienced the same occurrence. No sooner had the lights
appeared over the field, rustlings occurred. Each wore the same confused
expressions. One said he was walking a dog when he heard the rustling, another
was out for a jog, and Frank was in the process of fixing his vegetable stand.
Apparently, Iris concluded, these lights cared little about secrecy. They could
have waited until nightfall. And it was then she realized her investigation at
the Morses’ house occurred shortly before dusk as well. Was there some kind of
connection? Had these orbs of lights somehow been involved with her
investigation too?
Everyone stopped to listen to the rustling sounds coming
from the field. One woman in a red sweat suit gasped. Seconds later, Darian and
Gavin morphed out of the field, baggies in hand. The woman sighed and continued
talking with a neighbor. “Yes, that’s the sound I heard. Only it was about a
thousand times louder.” The neighbor answered her. “And did you hear that
high-pitched whining sound? The video doesn’t seem to have captured it.” His
comment caught Frank’s attention. “Yes, that’s right. The whining
sound—it hurt my ears.”
Frank excused himself to return to the investigators.
“When you investigate these balls, can you see if they make whining noises?”
Frank asked Mitchell.
“I can tell you,” Mitchell answered, “they do. I’ve
studied many sightings, most in the UK, and witnesses have also reported to
hear these sounds. But none of these people, to the best of my knowledge, has
ever caught these balls in the process of creating a crop circle. And by the
way, we refer to these lights as OBOLs—which stands for orange balls of
light.”
“So, guys. What do we have in the baggies?” Mitchell
asked his team.
Gavin pulled out a plant stalk gingerly. “It’s definitely
strange.”
Everyone studied the stalk in silence. It appeared in
shape to be a stalk but it was colored in the hues of a rainbow, mostly in hues
of dark violet and indigo.
“There is no question, these crops have been altered,”
Mitchell stated.
Frank nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Well,
at least it didn’t get my rhubarb. I keep that in the hothouse.” The woman in
the red jogging suit consoled Frank by patting his shoulder.
Mitchell offered his apologies. He requested if it was
okay for Darian to return tomorrow during his lunch break to snap some photos
in the daylight. Frank acquiesced. “Again, anything you need to do. Just find
out what did this.”
A S THE TEAM headed to the vehicle, Iris inquired as to
just how the team would evaluate the plants. Mitchell answered without
hesitation.
“I’m going to contact MUFON—the Mutual UFO Network.
They can refer you to a lab where a botanist can hopefully inspect the plants.
And best of all, most of these participating labs are sympathetic to our
plight, so consequently, they will do the work gratis.”
Iris nodded. She wondered if their results wouldn’t be
skewed. If the scientist was already a believer and willing to do the work for
free, could their results really be unbiased. It was as if Mitchell heard her
thoughts.
“I know what you’re thinking, Iris. But these people are
serious scientists. They wouldn’t want to jeopardize their reputations with
false conclusions. If what happened to these plants can’t be proven to be
extraterrestrial, the lab report will reflect it. And you must realize that
MUFON conducts investigations in the same manner we do. We seek to disprove a
sighting or occurrence first, and then, when we can rule out natural
explanations, we isolate any unexplained phenomena for further analysis.”
Iris
or any machine produce something so complex in such a short span of time?”
They paused to listen to the neighbors talk with Frank.
Iris noticed each of them nodding and pointing to the field in turns. They all
seemed to have experienced the same occurrence. No sooner had the lights
appeared over the field, rustlings occurred. Each wore the same confused
expressions. One said he was walking a dog when he heard the rustling, another
was out for a jog, and Frank was in the process of fixing his vegetable stand.
Apparently, Iris concluded, these lights cared little about secrecy. They could
have waited until nightfall. And it was then she realized her investigation at
the Morses’ house occurred shortly before dusk as well. Was there some kind of
connection? Had these orbs of lights somehow been involved with her
investigation too?
Everyone stopped to listen to the rustling sounds coming
from the field. One woman in a red sweat suit gasped. Seconds later, Darian and
Gavin morphed out of the field, baggies in hand. The woman sighed and continued
talking with a neighbor. “Yes, that’s the sound I heard. Only it was about a
thousand times louder.” The neighbor answered her. “And did you hear that
high-pitched whining sound? The video doesn’t seem to have captured it.” His
comment caught Frank’s attention. “Yes, that’s right. The whining
sound—it hurt my ears.”
Frank excused himself to return to the investigators.
“When you investigate these balls, can you see if they make whining noises?”
Frank asked Mitchell.
“I can tell you,” Mitchell answered, “they do. I’ve
studied many sightings, most in the UK, and witnesses have also reported to
hear these sounds. But none of these people, to the best of my knowledge, has
ever caught these balls in the process of creating a crop circle. And by the
way, we refer to these lights as OBOLs—which stands for orange balls of
light.”
“So, guys. What do we have in the baggies?” Mitchell
asked his team.
Gavin pulled out a plant stalk gingerly. “It’s definitely
strange.”
Everyone studied the stalk in silence. It appeared in
shape to be a stalk but it was colored in the hues of a rainbow, mostly in hues
of dark violet and indigo.
“There is no question, these crops have been altered,”
Mitchell stated.
Frank nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Well,
at least it didn’t get my rhubarb. I keep that in the hothouse.” The woman in
the red jogging suit consoled Frank by patting his shoulder.
Mitchell offered his apologies. He requested if it was
okay for Darian to return tomorrow during his lunch break to snap some photos
in the daylight. Frank acquiesced. “Again, anything you need to do. Just find
out what did this.”
A S THE TEAM headed to the vehicle, Iris inquired as to
just how the team would evaluate the plants. Mitchell answered without
hesitation.
“I’m going to contact MUFON—the Mutual UFO Network.
They can refer you to a lab where a botanist can hopefully inspect the plants.
And best of all, most of these participating labs are sympathetic to our
plight, so consequently, they will do the work gratis.”
Iris nodded. She wondered if their results wouldn’t be
skewed. If the scientist was already a believer and willing to do the work for
free, could their results really be unbiased. It was as if Mitchell heard her
thoughts.
“I know what you’re thinking, Iris. But these people are
serious scientists. They wouldn’t want to jeopardize their reputations with
false conclusions. If what happened to these plants can’t be proven to be
extraterrestrial, the lab report will reflect it. And you must realize that
MUFON conducts investigations in the same manner we do. We seek to disprove a
sighting or occurrence first, and then, when we can rule out natural
explanations, we isolate any unexplained phenomena for further analysis.”
Iris
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