Sighting Data
Steve's living room was an excellent place to work. In fact, it was a
shade too comfortable. Rick and Scotty spent a half hour arguing over
who would do what in putting their data down on paper, and both knew
perfectly well that they were just stalling.
Finally Rick said, "Let's admit it. We're both stuffed with crab, a
little sleepy, and too comfortable in these armchairs."
Scotty waved a hand languidly. "All right. I concede the point."
Steve Ames chuckled. "Suppose you move to less comfortable chairs. Those
dining-room chairs should keep you upright. Get to work and I will too."
The boys hauled themselves to their feet reluctantly. Rick walked to the
door and looked out through the screen. He could see the creek
glistening, and, out beyond the dock where the houseboat and runabout
were tied up, he saw ripples spreading where a fish had jumped. The air
was still, and he could hear cicadas in the trees and shrubs.
"This is the land of pleasant living," he observed. "I'm surprised
anyone on the Eastern Shore ever gets a lick of work done."
"You certainly don't," Scotty retorted. "Come on over here and stop
admiring the scenery."
Steve had produced large sheets of white paper, a ruler, and pencils.
Rick sat down. "I'll act as recorder."
"Volunteering for the hardest job?" Scotty inquired. "The air must be
affecting you."
"Nope." Rick shook his head. "I have just enough energy left to be
realistic. I can't read your writing. Suppose I put down the headings.
Location, date of sighting, time of sighting, direction of sighting,
number of persons who saw object. What else?"
"Description," Scotty suggested. "Maybe that ought to be in two parts.
One for shape and one for color."
Rick nodded. "Good idea. I'll rule lines as we go." He drew lines for
the columns, printed his headings, and put in the first several
horizontal lines. "Ready," he announced.
"We'll start with the first one. Location: five miles south of Wye Mills
on Route 50."
Rick printed: "5M S Wye Mls Rte 50."
"Date of sighting, July 10. Time of sighting, between five and six in
the evening."
Rick printed industriously. Scotty read from his notes until over twenty
lines of information had been printed on the chart. Then Steve
interrupted, bringing a tray of tall glasses of iced ginger ale.
The young agent put the tray down and scanned the columns while the boys
helped themselves. In a moment Steve nodded. "There's a pattern taking
shape, at least in the descriptions. But I can't make much out of the
dates and locations, yet."
"We'll keep plugging," Rick said. "Maybe we'll need to rearrange the
columns before they make sense."
"You have a point," Steve agreed. "Use the chart for the source, then we
can fill out sheets on the individual items, or I have some
four-by-five-inch file cards that would be ideal."
"But we'll be at it all night," Scotty objected.
"I don't think so. Once the basic data are on paper, it will go fast.
Keep at it. Yell if you want refills on the ginger ale. I need to finish
my own homework."
The boys returned to logging the data while Steve settled down with a
bulky report. In another hour the notebook had been exhausted, and the
big sheet of paper was nearly full of ruled lines and columns, recording
data.
"We're done," Rick announced.
Steve put his report aside and joined them at the table. The boys waited
expectantly while the agent scanned the sheet.
"You've done a good job of collecting information," Steve said. "Now it
needs breaking down some more. The mixture in the 'color' column bothers
me. I have a hunch those colors may be related to the position of the
sun. Look."
Rick watched as Steve's forefinger touched a line that showed the color
as "dark." The finger moved across the line to the time of day, eleven
A.M. Steve pointed to another line where the color was listed as
"orange." The time of day was seven fifteen P.M., with an additional
note of "twilight."
"Got it," Scotty agreed. "You think the objects may actually be dark,
but appear in various colors depending on the position of the sun and
the position of the viewer."
"It makes sense," Rick agreed. "All of the colors listed--red, orange,
silvery, bright--could be reflections of the sun on a smooth object."
Steve walked to a bookshelf and pulled down a copy of _The World
Almanac_. "Sunrise and sunset times are listed in here. You can figure
out quickly enough where the sun was in relation to the observer. It
will take another sheet of paper and some more columns."
"You gave us an extra sheet," Rick replied. "How should I head the
columns?"
Steve thought for a moment. "Three columns for the position of the sun.
Rising, high, setting. Four columns for the position of the observer in
relation to the flying object--north, south, east, or west. One column
for color, and one for other comments such as 'shiny.' And, of course,
you want a column for the time."
Rick recorded the data as Scotty read it off, checking _The World
Almanac_ for the sun's approximate positions. Steve was obviously
interested. He started to read his report again, then abandoned it and
came back to the table where the boys were working.
When the data had been transferred, the three studied it. Rick ran his
eye down the columns quickly, getting an impression, then he went over
the data slowly. "You're right, Steve," he said finally. "It all
tallies, even at a quick look. In every case where the object looked
colored, the observer saw the sun striking it. Where it looked dark, the
object was between the observer and the sun. Or, at least, the observer
wasn't in a position to see the sun reflect off the object."
Scotty added, "In every case where the object looked red or orange, the
sun was setting or had already set. In every case marked 'bright,'
'silvery,' or 'shiny,' the sun was high and the observer could see the
sun reflecting from the object."
"It seems pretty clear," Steve agreed. "Now, we have only one really
close-range sighting, and that was Rick's. How sure are you that the
object was black?"
Rick shrugged. "I know enough not to trust my eyes completely in wind
and rain. But there certainly wasn't any light to reflect off the
object, and I'm pretty sure it was either black or very dark brown."
"That would fit all the sightings," Steve pointed out. "I'm assuming
that the objects have a smooth surface that reflects light, even though
the material may be dark colored. Didn't you suggest a kite made of dark
plastic? That would fit the bill, except that the objects don't act like
kites."
"What do they act like?" Scotty demanded.
Neither Steve nor Rick had an answer.
"Let's try for another piece of information," Steve suggested. "Put the
dates down on cards. If you have sightings by different people on the
same dates, and at about the same times, put them on the same card. If
there's a big time discrepancy--say one sighting in the morning and
another in the afternoon--put them on different cards."
Rick looked up. "What are you trying to find?"
"Periodicity," Steve said promptly. "Is there any regularity in the
sightings? Do they occur every three, four, or five days, or once a week
on Mondays? Which reminds me. You might put down the day of the week,
too. There's a calendar on the wall behind you."
"You read and I'll copy," Rick told Scotty. "Go ahead." He waited with
pencil poised over a card. In a moment he looked at his pal. "What are
you waiting for?"
Scotty was poring over the notebook again. His eyebrows knit. "You know,
there's one chunk of data on just a few sightings that we didn't put
down because we didn't have a column for it."
"What is it?" Steve asked.
"I know!" Rick exclaimed. "There were a few times when people said they
saw yellow glows in the sky after they saw the objects. Isn't that it?"
Scotty nodded. "I've been counting. There were five instances. Two
people said the glow wasn't really connected, because it came from
Wallops Island."
"Why on earth didn't you include it in the chart?" Steve demanded.
"It doesn't fit," Scotty replied. "In every single case, the glow was to
the southeast."
"Maybe it does fit," Steve said emphatically. "Boys, never leave out a
bit of data because it doesn't seem to fit. This particular chunk could
very well be the clue."
"Why?" Rick asked quickly.
Steve shook his head. "I'm not sure, so I don't want to say. But include
every sighting of the yellow glow on the date cards. I'm going to borrow
that set for a closer look."
Scotty began reading, while Rick recorded. When the cards were complete,
they ran through them. There was no periodicity. The dates seemed
completely random. Sometimes two sightings had been made at different
times on the same date. There would be two days, three, four, five, or
even six between sightings.
"Not a trace of pattern," Rick said.
"Who says stingarees have to fly on schedule?" Steve asked with a grin.
"They're not supposed to be like planes. What's the next step?"
Scotty produced the map they had used. "One more job to do, and that's
to plot the locations of the observers and draw lines in the directions
of the sightings. That will show us if there's any regularity in the
place where the flying objects appear."
"Very good," Steve approved.
Scotty took pencil and ruler and laid the map out flat. "You read
location and direction, Rick, and I'll plot the data."
"Okay." Rick began with the first. "Five miles south of Wye Mills on
Route 50. Direction, southwest."
Scotty measured the distance from Wye Mills, using the map scale in
inches, then estimated the compass direction and drew a line. "Next."
Rick read on. By the time he had reached the tenth sighting, all three
of them were waiting anxiously for each new bit of data to be plotted.
Finally the job was complete. Steve had hurried off a moment before and
returned with a pair of compasses in his hand. As the boys watched, he
put the sharp point of one compass leg into a spot on the map, adjusted
the radius, and drew a perfect circle. He adjusted the radius again, and
drew a second circle, slightly larger, then a third.
"Bull's-eye!" Rick said excitedly.
The direction lines bisected the outer concentric circles like the radii
of an orb spider's web. In the center of the web was the smallest
circle. Within the circle was the focal point of all flying object
observations.
Rick said the name aloud.
"Swamp Creek!"