The night was cold and silent. A few clouds were dancing around the moon. Slowly, drifting forward and back. Lake Park in Minnesota was quiet, as usual at this time of the day. A couple of hopeless romantics were walking in the moonlight, and a small number of ducks were swimming around in the lake. None of them saw the light that was getting closer and closer.

At the same time in Minnesota Military Camp, corporal Bill Watson was on radar duty. He was monitoring every aircraft that entered Minnesota airspace. Right now he was keeping an eye on a little privat plane, that was flying around the area of Lake Park. "Plane 667, plane 667 over Lake Park: Identify yourself." The speaker crackled. "This is 667, AE500. I’m just cruising." Watson smiled: "Cruise on 667, and have a pleasant time." In that very moment, a second aircraft appeared on the radar, and it was heading straight for the first plane. "Aircraft 668, over Lake Park: Identify yourself." There was no answer. "Aircraft 668, over Lake Park: Identify yourself." Still no answer. "667, 667 AE500!!! Get the hell out of there. An unidentifiend aircraft is heading straight for you, with a speed of 750km/h." "Mayday, mayday. This is AE500. Something is coming this way, and it’s coming real fast. Mayday…holy shi………" The speaker went dead. Watson saw the two flashing dots on the screen disappear.

One week later. Army reporter Denzel Goodworth is examining the place of the happening. With him, he carries a tape recorder: "Case update 01. Remains after the plane were found 2 km from the lake. So far, not a single person has been found. It is not yet known what the second aircraft was, or where it crashed. So far, there are only three witnesses to this "UFO". Goodworth out."

The first two witnesses is a couple. They were walking around Lake Park the night it happened. When Goodworth arrives at 31 Marionette Street, he smiles. There is nothing like an old fashioned house. The house is more like a hut, actually. Only one floor high. Red, and with white frames around the windows. He knocks at the door. A man who looks like he is in his late forties, opens up. Goodworth is escorted into a little livingroom. The man’s name is Henry Jenkins. His wife Anita, is also present. "Let’s cut right to the case." Goodworth isn’t much of a talker. "What did you see on Friday night, last week?" "Well", Henry started, "my wife Anita and I, were having a little trip in the moonlight. We do that some times. All of a sudden, we hear these strange noises, I must admit I got pretty scared, and when we look up, we can see this sigarshaped aircraft hovering over the lake. It had lots of lights and gizmoes over the entire body. Well, much more than that we didn’t see, because we got away from there as fast as possible." The Jenkins couldn’t tell more than that. Goodworth thanked them for their time, and set off to the next witness.

He was, judging by the looks, a hippie. Long, red hair, and a dredful clothing. Purple sunglasses and beardstubs all over the face. "Hey man! Are you here to ask me about that UFO?" Goodworth nodded. "May I come in?" "Sure thing, man. I’m glad someone finally wanna ask me about it." "Ok, let’s start." Goodworth sat down in an orange chair. Brett Zalo started telling. "Last Friday night I was outside the forrest that surrounds the lake. I saw a small private plane flying around the other side of the forrest. And all of a sudden I saw this huge sigarshaped UFO, with lots of lights, coming in from west with incredible speed. But it didn’t make any sound at all, except from this "swisj" when it flew over me. Two seconds later, there was this huge explosion. It was the little plane. It fell down on the other side of the forrest. Man, was I scared. Suddenly, there is this really bright light in front of me, in the forrest. That’s all i could see before I ran away like a chicken. Aliens, man!!! I’ll bet that the aliens landed that ship in the forrest." Goodworth was thinking. Finally a lead. If the UFO really did land in the forrest, there had to be some sort of a mark or something. He got the directions from Zalo, and set course for Lake Park.

After one hour of searching, he finally found something; four holes in the ground. It was at least 20 metres between them. They were only a couple of inches deep, and 20 cm in diameter. Goodworth started looking around the whole area, surrounding the holes. And quite right; about 50 metres away, four new holes appeared. Then Goodworth noticed a hand, sticking out from under some bushes. It was the corpse of the pilot from the private plane. Apparently he had been tossed out of the plane in the air. Goodworth kept searching. He found another set of holes. It seemed as if there were holes all the way over to the lake. Maybe there was something in there. Denzel Goodworth is not a man of patience. He drove back to the military camp, and picked up some diving equipment. He got back to the lake, and jumped into the cold, blue water. It was freezing, but he didn’t notice. He had an obsession.

A light. A small light! Far away, down there. The closer he got, the bigger and brighter the light grew. It was the UFO. Goodworth felt his adrenalin pumping. He must have been at a 100 metres depth, when he finally reached the UFO. It was about 50-60 metres long. Goodworth was heading towards what he meant to be the cockpit. He could see a glasswindow. His heart was beating faster than ever as he looked inside. It sat there, staring at him with big, shining, black eyes. It was an alien!!! Goodworth’s heart stopped beating, he was so excited. Then all of a sudden, a hatch opened up beside him. Without thinking, he floated inside. Then Goodworth lost his consciousness. The UFO started trembling. It was floating to the surface. It flew up in the air, and into the night. No one has ever heard from Denzel Goodworth since.

Denzel wakes up. He is strapped to a white table, and he can’t move. All he can see is a drill, coming down towards him. Then pain. Horrible pain. He screams, but for no use. In space, no one can hear you scream.