Now I stood in that bedroom looking at the door , at the floor, at the bed.

Then I saw, behind the door, an indentation in the wall that had been made by the door being slammed open with substantial force.

Did we do that, or did they do it?

Being in the room again, my memories of December 26 grew quite distinct. I could see the visitors coming, could recall my terror, my paradoxical loyalty to their commands. I remembered how it had felt to be touched by them. They were quick and precise in their movements. I remembered the smell of them, the look of their places, and above all I remembered how it was to be with them. There was fear, awe, even a sort of love.

It was cold in the cabin, and I soon went back downstairs and built a fire. We had supper and put our boy to bed with a story, then I sat in a favorite chair with a glass of wine and stared at the flames, thinking.

I wanted to approach this from the most productive viewpoint possible. Rather than trying to decide who the visitors may be and what they may want for themselves here, I thought to concentrate on my. own feelings and thoughts about them. Absent even a scintilla of certain knowledge about them, there really was no other meaningful choice.

I looked at the black picture window across the room, seeing only my own faint reflection. How clearly I recalled sweeping off the porch beyond on the night of the twenty-

sixth, going into the air with the little people swirling around me. Remaining in my mind's eye is an image that I remembered under hypnosis of my cabin, of my dark bedroom window and my son's window below it with the night light shining faintly behind the curtains. As I left I felt a sorrow as if I had died, and that is why the moment was buried in amnesia.

Then there was an impression as if all the trees below me were suddenly swept up together in a great mass of flashing trunks and limbs. When they straightened themselves out again I was sitting in the small depression with some guards around me. I still had the thought that somebody was talking to me then, but I did not remember what was said. The voice I remembered was one that had appeared to be inside my head. This may seem like some sort of thought transference, but may also be something more understandable.

The brain is an electrical device. As such it has a faint electromagnetic field and even emits very, very weakly in the radio part of the spectrum. Specifically, it contains a portion of an extra-low-frequency (ELF) electromagnetic field wave at frequency between 1 and 30

hertz. The heart and musculature also develop electromagnetic fields in the extra-low-frequency range.