"This is, you realize, complete hogwash." The voice came from a small box propped against a telephone on the only flat surface in the room not covered in books. "Space, Gravity, and the Flying Saucer, indeed. There's no actual craft in my records that looks or operates like anything in these diagrams."
"Doubtless, Mike, but ain't it wonderful hogwash?" Bubba tapped his finger against the cover of the book in question. "It's a valuable addition to the SauNA database."
Bubba Pritchert, gentleman mechanic of Virginia and president/founder of the Saucer Nuts of America, had created something of a clearing-house for pre-1965 UFO literature. In an attempt to document the early days of the saucer craze, he had begun accumulating books, magazines, and smearily mimeographed pamphlets by the hundreds; some were found through antiquarian book dealers (who were delighted to be shut of them), but most came from the SauNA membership. Eventually, he bought a scanner, and began setting up an on-line library that could be accessed by anyone.
"Leonard Cramp was a crackpot," Mike replied, "with an intuitive grasp of the fundamental pseudo-scientific method: propose a conclusion, and then tailor the facts to fit. Somehow I expected your Saucer Nuts of America library to be less ... speculative."
Bubba shrugged. "Hey, you wanted to read this stuff. Besides, until you came along, speculation was all I had. Personally, I think you just like to argue."
"A battle of wits with a human? And one only half-armed, at that? Hah."
Glancing around idly, Bubba muttered, "I wonder if that bulk eraser would work on an artificial intelligence..."
"Just kidding," Mike said quickly.
Bubba grinned savagely. "Thought you might have been."
It had been raining in Central Garage for two days, while a storm made up its mind whether or not to amble away off the coast of Virginia. Those residents not yet disconnected from the power grid had had the odd blink of electricity, but Chez Pritchert remained up and running throughout, drawing energy from a GreenHouse(tm) fusion generator. Bubba had been carefully cleaning the lens of a charge-coupled device when the conversation started.
"Seriously, Bubba," said Mike, "How much credence do you put in this stuff?"
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