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Saturday, 30 March 2019

Spaceman

There are strange lights in the hills near the investigators home, strange pulsing beams reflecting off the clouds and casting ghostly images on the sky above.

Strangers, hippies and other weirdos begin to appear in town, driving through in flower-painted Volkswagen buses to pick up groceries before setting off again. There are never many of them, no more than half-a-dozen at a time, but more seem to be coming every day.

In the hills is a cluttered campsite accommodating about fifty people. The inhabitants are friendly, but strangely reticent about what has brought them here, only saying that something of importance will be happening in a few days.

They all seem perfectly happy and mentally healthy. At night they set up a large strobe-light machine and gather around it wearing masks (these masks are large card constructions like the heads of the aliens in Close Encounters of the Third Kind). Most of them partake of hallucinogens to “enhance” the feeling of standing around the strobe light.

Possibilities

1 Mi-Go, through their human slaves, have spread rumours among the “alternative” community that aliens are going to land nearby and are to be greeted by “Enlightened Ones.” The Mi-Go wish to acquire several brains from that part of human society, for strange and alien purposes.

The Mi-Go leave behind them fifty corpses; men, women and children. The tops of their skulls have been removed and their brains are missing. A few are untouched and one drug-crazed survivor remains to tell his tale to the world.

2 The hippies are destined to wait in vain, until complaints from local people about littering and strange noises at night cause the police to move in and make several arrests. The group, dispirited and more than a little disappointed, moves on. All except for Mad Eddy, a solitary dope smoker who claims to have seen “the Great Ones”. He becomes a hermit and lives in the hills for several years.

3 One night the hills are lit by a very bright light – the following morning the hippies have gone. All that remains are scorch marks and crop circles.

© Eamon Honan

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