"Don't you understand—the others kept up a running commentary, each saying that the disc was directly in front of him—and all the time, unknown to me—they were in a steep dive and simultaneously, they hit that peak at nine-thousand feet."

There was another long silence, broken only by muffled sounds from the field outside—the chugging of fuel trucks, shouts of mechanics, the occasional crackling hum as a jet was fired up.

"Then it is your contention," Saunders said, "That each of you was suffering from a hallucination—a mirage, in fact. A mirage which took the form of a flying disc and which caused three trained pilots to fail to notice that they were losing altitude and heading directly into a mountain peak. Is that what you're trying to say?"

"It was not a mirage," Martin said. "It was a deliberately implanted impression."

"Explain yourself," the general said hoarsely. He exchanged a swift glance with Saunders.

"The disc suddenly wasn't there—after the others had hit, I imagine. I don't know for sure—but suddenly, the thing just sort of—turned off. It wasn't there. I looked around and saw the pillar of smoke far off to my left and rear but no following ships. I swung around and tried to contact my men. No result. I went over the spot where the fires were and recognized them immediately as—the remains. I contacted the base. While I was hanging around up there, I had a lot of time to think. I realized then what I've already told you—that each of the men thought the disc was directly before him. Each followed it—to his death. I wasn't operating manually—my auto-pilot—" he smiled strangely—"isn't susceptible to—hypnotic suggestions—so it flew a straight course—at thirty-thousand."

"You believe that you—and the others—were hypnotized into thinking you were seeing a flying disc. Is that it?" the general said dryly.

"I believe that we caught someone—some thing—off guard when we took off on an unannounced flight," Martin said with firm conviction, ignoring the sudden reaction they showed. "I'm sure we were heading in a direction where some secret lay—without sufficient advance warning for whatever holds that secret to cover up. I'm positive we were hypnotized—lured away just like a mother quail pulls the broken wing stunt to get a dog away from her nest."

"Doesn't that explanation strike you as unbalanced, to say the least," Saunders said slowly. "What person could possibly 

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