The alien ship slowly made its way along the river, then sped up and followed the highway south, toward us. After circling twice, it descended out of sight below the tree line. For a moment, just a peaceful moment, things looked almost like a normal October day in rural Maine. Tom and Margie's house was tidy, he had a couple cords of firewood nicely stacked in a line behind the house. Margie had cornstalks tied around the lamp post in the front yard, getting ready early for Halloween like she always did. In the backyard, she had the bathtub Madonna decorated also, with a-

Oh. I'd better explain what a bathtub Madonna is to you uncultured types. You take an old bathtub, set it on end half buried in the ground, paint the outside white and the inside a light blue, and then you put a statue of the Virgin Mary under the arc, like a grotto. It's a homemade shrine of sorts. These days, you can buy ones already made out of concrete, but that's cheating, and God knows if you did it the lazy way. Most people put stones or flowers around it, Margie's shrine was surrounded by brightly colored mums. Or I thought they were mums, I'm not a flower expert. The Madonna had been there when Margie and Tom bought the house, and Margie spruced it up with the flowers, she also decorated it for the seasons. At Christmas time, Mary had a little Santa hat. Right now, for Halloween Mary was wearing a Jedi knight outfit, complete with glowing lightsaber that Tom had hooked up. I hope God had a good sense of humor.

Across the road, there were pine trees, lots of pine trees, and then flat fields, a glimpse of the river. It was a nice sunny day. Except for the pillars of smoke coming from town, from the smoldering potato warehouse, and the burned-out alien ship. And except for the other alien ship now climbing back into the sky, it zoomed up to a thousand feet and hovered. "Yup," I said, "they found that alien stuff we threw out of the truck, and dropped off some guys to check it out. That ship up there is providing close air support to the guys on the ground. Tom, there's," I counted on my fingers, "six, no, seven, houses between here and where they are?"

"Ten," Tom corrected me, "you didn't include the McDonald and Burgess places, back off the road. And the old gas station fruit stand that's been abandoned for twenty years. That's ten places, with multiple structures like barns and garages. They'll be thorough searching each one, right, and that takes time."