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of the earth, the solar system—65.5 million years is but yesterday.”
    They were walking down the slope, silent. A gulf had opened between them. The students had all gone to bed, whether apart or together. Over the desert a stillness prevailed such as had done before men first entered the continent.
    The light came from the west. Bodenland saw it first and motioned to his companion to stand still and observe. As far as they could judge the light was moving fast, and in their direction. It made no noise. It extended itself, until it resembled a comet rushing along over the ground. It was difficult to focus on. The men stood rooted to the spot in astonishment.
    â€œBut the railroad’s miles distant!” Clift exclaimed, trying to keep his voice level.
    Whatever the phenomenon was, it was approaching the camp at extreme velocity.
    Without wasting words, Bodenland dashed forward, running down the slope, calling to Mina. He saw her light go on immediately in the camper. Satisfied he swerved and ran toward the trailer his son occupied. Banging on the door, he called Larry’s name.
    Hearing the commotion, others woke, other doors opened. Men ran naked out of tents. Clift called out for calm, but cries of amazement drowned his voice. The thing was plunging out of the desert. It seemed ever distant, ever near, as if time itself was suspended to allow it passage.
    Bodenland put his arm protectively round Mina’s shoulders when she appeared.
    â€œGet to some high ground.” He gave Larry and Kylie similar orders when they came up, disheveled, but stood firm himself, unable not to watch that impossible progress.
    The notion entered his head that it resembled a streamlined flier viewed through thick distorting glass. Still no sound. But the next moment it was on them, plunging through the heart of the little encampment—and all in silence. Screams rose from the Dixie students, who flung themselves to the ground.
    Yet it had no impact, seemed to have no substance but light, to be as insubstantial as the luminescence it trailed behind it, which remained floating to the ground and disappeared like dying sparks.
    Bodenland watched the ghastly thing go. It plunged right into and through one of the mesas, and finally was swallowed in the distance of the Utah night. It had appeared intent on destruction, yet not a thing in the camp was harmed. It had passed right through Larry’s trailer, yet nothing showed the slightest sign of disarray.
    Larry staggered up to his father and offered him a gulp from a silver hip flask.
    â€œWe’ve just seen the original ghost train, Joe,” he said.
    â€œI’ll believe anything now,” said Bodenland, gratefully accepting the flask.
    When dawn came, and the desert was transformed from shadow to furnace, the members of the Old John encampment were still discussing the phenomenon of the previous night. Students of a metaphysical disposition argued that the ghost train—Larry’s description was generally adopted—had no objective reality. It was amazing how many of these young people, scientifically trained, the cream of their year, could believe in a dozen wacky explanations. Many of them, it seemed to Bodenland as he listened and sipped coffee from the canteen, belonged to one kind of cult or another. Nearly all espoused explanations that chimed with their own particular set of beliefs.
    Larry left the discussion early, dragging Kylie away, though she was clearly inclined to pitch into the debate.
    One of the students who had been engaged in the previous night’s scuffle increasingly monopolized the discussion.
    â€œYou guys are all crazy if you think this was some kind of an enemy secret weapon. If there was such a thing, America would have had it first and we’d know about it. Equally, it ain’t some kind of Scientology thing, just to challenge your I.Q.’s to figure it out or join the Church. It’s clear what happened.