Quicksilver

by Dean Koontz

Bridget said, “Is UFO activity really increasing?” Springing up from his chair with the kinetic energy of a jack-in-the-box, Hakeem Kaspar said, “It always has been, ever since the 1940s. It’s always accelerating—the activity, number of sightings—toward some end. Who knows what end? Many nights, I sit out in the yard, in a lawn chair, and I watch the sky. Many nights. If you do that, you’ll be surprised at what you’ll see. You’ll see things that never took off from an earthly airport and will never land at one, immense craft without running lights, dark forms that blot out the stars as they pass. I’ve seen them. I watch, and I see them, and I’m not mental.” His feverish gaze slid from Bridget to me to Sparky. He took a deep breath. “Don’t tell anyone what I said. My job at the power company depends on this being secret. My interest in . . . in these things is something they wouldn’t understand.”