Nine Hard Questions about the Nature of the Universe

On a Wednesday in November of 1957, nine-year-old Danny Armbruster disappeared from a subdivision outside Mesa, Arizona. His parents had expected him back since nightfall. Danny, meanwhile, had picked up a bullhead in the front tire of his bike and was having to walk it home.

The sun had just gone down when Danny saw the light in the sky. For a second he thought he'd gotten turned around and it was the moon. Only it was the wrong shape for the moon, longer than it was tall. And the color was an intense blue-white, like the glow of the welding torches at his father's plant.

The light continued to grow and began to wobble slightly. Danny caught a glimpse of a deeper, reddish color on the underside. Suddenly he knew he was looking at a flying saucer.

He could make out the shape of it now, like two dinner plates front to front. A cone of light sprang out of the bottom and swept toward him over the desert. His common sense told him to head for home, but he was afraid to run under the ship. He thought of a kangaroo rat he'd seen once, paralyzed by the lights