My piece outlined
some valid, hard-hitting points that the media refused to discuss,
and I received a number of letters expressing support for my expose.
But one letter stood
out. Interesting piece it read in part Youre
on the right track, but youre not thinking big enough. If
you want the real truth about the moon, meet me for lunch tomorrow
at the Green Hill café. Signed, Kent Drake, Retired Military
With some trepidation,
I showed up at the café the next afternoon. A man with
a black top-hat and dark glasses nodded at me as I walked in.
Mr. Drake? I asked cautiously. He nodded again, and
I sat down.
He stared at me coldly
for a few seconds, stirring his drink, which appeared to be a
gin and tonic. I fidgeted awkwardly, averting my eyes from his
glare, and then he spoke. What does the moon mean to you?
he said, finally taking a sip from his drink.
I paused I guess it doesnt really mean anything. Its
its just there. An inanimate object
He cackled, a low noise
that sounded more like a hiss than a laugh. Oh, its
just there, now is it? he shook his head, and
leaned in close Listen close: there is no moon He
sat back in his chair and repeated himself, this time slowly and
deliberately There is no moon