I started to reply, but found myself yawning uncontrollably. It was well past two in the morning, Dunnville time. Plus, the concentrated mental labor on the way out—going over the files, and the excitement of the Saturn encounter—was taking its toll. “I’m going to fall asleep on my feet. I need some shuteye.” I picked one of the couches, fell onto it, and was asleep within seconds.

Chapter Thirteen: Getting a Clue

Chapter Thirteen: Getting a Clue

Day 9. Saturday morning

I woke with a jerk. I’d been having a confusing dream where I kept flying over a grassy field, accompanied by a sense of urgency. I rubbed my eyes, trying to bring myself to full awareness. The thermos had been drained hours ago, so there would be no caffeine assist.

Nat and Patrick were stretched out on couches. Nat was making a light buzzing sound, like a chipmunk snoring. It was incredibly cute, and a revelation to me. I’d never realized she snored. And it was probably not something I should bring up. Ever.

I sat down at my laptop and fired it up. I stared at the folder full of videos and images, unsure exactly what I was looking for, but knowing it was important. Well, maybe if I just started looking at things, inspiration would strike.

It took less than five minutes. Something caught my eye in a high-resolution image of the outskirts of Dunnville. I zoomed in, zoomed again, then yelled, “Shit!”

Patrick snorted and grunted, then turned over.

Nat sat up. “Whazzit? What’s the matter?”

“I found something. Remember Sheldon was saying that even if he stayed invisible out in that field, he’d leave a visible trace?”

“Uh-huh.” Nat came over and sat down beside me, still blinking sleep out of her eyes, then squinched her chair around so she could see the screen.

I pointed at the zoomed-in image. “It’s hard to make out, both because they’re faint and because there are multiple overlapping traces. But those are flying-saucer prints.”

Nat squinted at the screen. “Um, I think I see it. Maybe. You sure you’re not suffering from pareidolia?”

“What’s that, an STD?”

Nat chuckled. “No, dummy, it’s a tendency to see patterns or objects in random images. It’s kind of a self-inflicted illusion.”

“Like seeing Jesus in a piece of toast?”

“Uh-huh, exactly like that.”

“Okay, let’s test that idea. Hey Sheldon?”

“Let me save you some time, Jack. I see the patterns as well. A little image processing and you get this … ” A much larger version of the image on my laptop popped up on the nearest wall panel, but this version had some colors enhanced. The result showed at least a half dozen distinct patterns that included a tripod-shaped set of depressions, centered in a circle of slightly browner grass.

“Any possibility those are evidence of Gennan landings?”