As I was leaving, Purdy gave me a summary of sighting reports.
“Some of these were published, some we dug up ourselves,” he said. “We got some confidential stuff from airline pilots. It’s pretty obvious the Air Force has tried to keep them quiet.”
“All right,” I said. “I’ll get started. Maybe things aren’t sewed up so tightly, now this report is out.”
“We’ve found out some things about Project ‘Saucer,’ said Purdy. “Whether it’s a cover-up or a real investigation, there’s a lot of hush-hush business to it. They’ve got astronomers and astrophysicists working for them, also rocket expects, technical analysts, and Air Force Special Intelligence. We’ve been told they can call on any government agency for help—and I know they’re using the F.B.I.”
It was building up bigger than I had thought.
“If national security is involved,” I told Purdy, “they can shut us up in a hurry.”
“If they tell me so, O.K.,” said Purdy. He added grimly, “But I think they’re making a bad mistake. They probably think they’re doing what’s right. But the truth might come out the wrong way.”
“It is possible,” I thought, “that the saucers belong to Russia.”
“If it turns out to be a Soviet missile, count me out,” I said. “We’d have the Pentagon and the F.B.I. on our necks.”
“All right, if that’s the answer.” He chuckled. “But you may be in for a jolt.”