by Glenn Campbell
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A Mostly True Story by Glenn Campbell |
[NOTE: This chapter is out of place and will probably go somewhere else in the book.]
Oh, no! I feel a temporal disconnect coming. This happens when you hang out with aliens: You begin to lose track of where you are in time. It is a temporary affliction, and things will probably be alright in a few minutes.
Begin timewarp.... now!
I am on the stage in a crowded auditorium. I am sitting at a long table facing the audience, with two men to the right of me and a man and woman to the left. It must be some kind of symposium or panel discussion; I am not sure. I am sitting on the panel, so I must be seen as an expert on something, but I don't know anything. On the other side of the stage, a man at the podium is speaking to the audience in a language I do not understand. People in the audience are asking him questions in the same language. I know I am supposed to speak next, but I don't know a word of this language, not even "yes" or "no," and I have no idea what I am supposed to talk about even if I did. I look down at myself and am relieved to find that I am wearing clothes, which is better than some dreams I have had.
But this is not a dream.
I focus on the speaker and on the questioners in the audience, all of whom are very serious. The audience is a mix of several hundred pale-skinned adults, male and female, from teenagers to the very old, but no young children. Clearly, the topic is too strong for the immature. I sense that, to these people, the fate of the universe hangs in the balance, so what I say to them is going to be very important. They have no idea who I am, and I don't know who they are, but they have questions and will be looking to me for answers.
The funny thing is, even though I don't understand the language, I know everything they are saying.
Occasionally, questions are directed to the experts sitting to my right and left. They respond with great authority in their native language. I don't know their words, but I get their meaning. I feel like I have known these experts for years, even though this is the first time I have seen them. My knowledge of the proceedings isn't something psychic; it is more like a memory. Although I have never been to this place before and have never met anyone here except the man at the podium, I feel that I have experienced all of this in another life.
The people in this room are members of a marooned race. They speak a language that is like no other. They don't know where they came from; all they know is, it is someplace far away. They don't know where they are going, but they are hoping that the experts in this room will tell them. I am supposed to be an expert, too, but I don't have any answers. I came here looking for answers myself.
The lights go down in the auditorium, and that's when things start getting weird.
They are showing a movie or video. It is in grainy black and white. The movie shows some kind of medical examination room, apparently in the middle of the 20th Century. There are several doctors wearing gowns and masks, hovering around a dead body on a table. It is not a human body. It has roughly the shape of a human child, but the torso is very thin, while the head is big and hairless, and the eyes are huge. They are not human eyes. The camera circles the body as the doctors cut it open. Internal organs are removed and weighed. They are not human organs. The autopsy continues for about twenty minutes, then the lights come up in the auditorium and the panel discussion continues.
A question is directed to the man on my far right. He is an older man with a dark demeanor who reminds me of Count Dracula. He speaks with deep, sinister intonation, obviously warning us that something bad is happening. I know -- without knowing his language -- that his reply goes something like this: "This film is evidence of a government conspiracy at the highest levels. The evil world government has known about aliens for years, but they haven't told us. They are protecting the aliens because the aliens give them the technology they need to stay in power. We are seeing this film now only because the government has chosen to release it. It is part of their plan to control us."
The woman at the other end of the table offers her own analysis. I know she is saying: "These must be the aliens who are abducting our people. During my own abductions, I have been examined by beings similar to this one. It is disturbing to see an alien cut open like that, but that is how I felt on their operating table. My abductions were terrible experiences that have affected everything in my life, and they haven't ended yet. These aliens even destroyed my marriage, because my husband didn't believe me and couldn't handle the stress. We have to make people aware of what is happening, and we need to support each other in this difficult time."
The man to my immediate right is not as angry or upset as the other two speakers. He takes a more distant view: "The alien in this film represents only one of the dozens of alien races who have visited our planet. They have been coming to this planet for millions of years, and they will probably continue to come, so there is no reason to be alarmed. To learn more about this alien, we must look at our history. When you understand how aliens have interacted with us throughout the centuries, you will know what to expect from them in the future."
Then it is my turn. I am in a difficult position: I want to tell the truth, but I also don't want to offend my host or the many people who paid good money to be here. I choose my words very carefully.
"This is a very disturbing film," I say in English, "and it deserves careful study."
The young man to my left translates for me, repeating what I just said in his own tongue. He is not a professional translator but a volunteer pressed into service at the last minute. He seems to be doing okay, but I speak slowly for him.
"If the film is genuine," I continue, "then it says important things about the aliens and the United States government's involvement with them."
My words are translated.
"Nonetheless, we must consider the possibility that the movie is a fake. Some people are making a lot of money from this video. In Hollywood, there are special effects artists who are capable of creating an alien like this."
The translation goes out, and the man at the podium begins to look uncomfortable.
Then I quickly add, "But it would be very difficult to do. It would take a lot of resources to produce a fake alien this good, and probably only the government has those resources."
The translation is made, and I try to extract myself.
"In conclusion," I say, "We have to look at this video from all angles before we make any judgments."
Thankfully, that gets me off the hook. The man at the podium picks up where I left off (in his own tongue). He agrees that the video could be fake, but he says there is so much at stake if it is real that we can't afford to ignore it. Clearly, he says, we must all keep an open mind.
The man then changes the subject and starts talking about me. He says that I am a prominent UFO expert from America, and I have come here to conduct important research. He asks me, through the translator, to describe my mission.
This is even harder than discussing the autopsy film. How do I explain something -- in short, easily translated sentences -- that I don't even understand myself?
I begin: "I have been studying a secret military base called Area 51."
Translation.
"Some people claim that the government is working with aliens and alien spacecraft at this base and others."
Translation.
"One of my sources claims that the aliens speak a form of Hungarian."
Translation.
"Ancient Hungarian."
Translation.
"Furthermore, the American military program that works with the aliens and their spacecraft only employs people of Hungarian extraction."
Translation. I sense that things are moving very slowly for the audience.
"I have come to Hungary to find out more about your culture."
Translation.
"I understand that Hungarians are very involved with UFO research, and I want to know whether there is anything different about your UFO movement."
In fact, I have already answered the last question in the course of this meeting: There is nothing different about the Hungarian UFO movement except the language.
The man at the podium cuts me off. Clearly, this is not as exciting as the alien autopsy. I am thanked for my contibution, and the show continues without further input from me.
My message to the Hungarian people will have to wait.
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