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will happen." ground. 16. The Photographer and the Red Hot Saucer "See you later, Papa," Edgar Schedelbauer said as he walked out the door of his aging father's house at Wildon, in the Leibnitz near the Yugoslav border of Austria. The stooped figure of the old man hobbled to the doorway. "You take it easy, son," the figure said raising his finger. "| don't like to have you running around on that contraption so late at night." "This?" Edgar thumped the seat of his motorcycle firmly. "It always gets me where I'm going." "But at one-thirty in the morning you never know what you're going to meet between here and Vienna." "Worry, worry, worry," Edgar said gently. "You go to bed. I've traveled this road many times. Nothing "All right," the aging man conceded. Schedelbauer kicked the starter twice before the engine caught, then he roared smoothly out of Wildon, moving toward the city and his job. He worked as a staff photographer on the Wiener Montag, a newspaper of Vienna, and he had a camera strapped over his shoulder as he powered his way over the early morning deserted roads of the Austrian countryside. The air was cool in the early morning of March 2, 1960, but the vibrating motorcycle under him gave him a feeling of power. Shortly after he had left Labuttendorf, the usually uneventful trip became one which he would not forget for the rest of his life. In front of him, he perceived a large and brightly glowing object hovering over the forest. His motorcycle cruised toward it, and as he watched, the glowing thing crossed a clearing by the road. It then traced the outline of a semicircle as it drifted closer and closer to the