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29 "[ heard you're working on the flying-saucer problem," he said quickly. "I may have some information that would interest you." "No one, directly. I just happened to hear it mentioned at the Press Club. Frankly, I've been curious about the flying saucers ever since '45." {p. 53} "I may be way off," said Steele. "But I've always wondered about the 'foo fighters' our pilots saw over Europe near the end of the war." I thought for a second. "Wasn't that some kind of antiaircraft missile fired from the ground?" "No. Intelligence never did get any real answer, so far as I know. They were some kind of circular gadgets, and they actually chased our planes a number of times. We thought they were something the Nazis had invented--and I still think so." "Well, it's obviously either Russia or us. If it is the Soviet--well, that's what's worried me. I don't think it should be treated like a joke, the way some people in the Pentagon take it." "T've given you about all I know," Steele answered. "There was an Intelligence report you might try to see--the Eighth Air Force files should have it." I waited. He hesitated a moment. "Mind telling me who told you I was on it?" I asked. That startled me, but I didn't tell him so. "Do you have any idea what they are?" Mr. Steele said. "No, I've just begun checking. But I'd be glad to hear what you've got." "Then who's launching them now?" I stared at the phone, trying to figure him out. "T'd like to talk it over with you," I said. "Maybe you've got something." "Wait a minute," I said. "Give me your number, in case I find anything." He gave it to me without apparent hesitation. I thanked him and hung up, still wondering.