"Ummo Letter 906"

Madrid, June 9, 1968 Mr. VILLAGRASA Dear Sir, This letter announces the sending of one of the copies of the report dealing with the oawôléa-ouéwa-oéme, which you call flying saucers. I suppose you have received my previous letter before this one, in which I explained everything, so I do not have to repeat the reasons for this sending. I have also written to other gentlemen, of whom they gave me the list, only those who can understand from their profession as engineers. I am not obliged to do so, but these things are important and you will benefit more than I who am not targeted. I have fallen behind because of the large number of pages and I cannot give copies to any outsider, and although I have made copies, I can only repeat that that is not enough. Since then, there is no copy of the first original except the one I made from it. I copied it as perfectly as I could, because in that they are most scrupulous, you cannot imagine how much difficulty that put me in. Then one day, when I realized that they were from another planet, I had a shock and thought they were crazy, but when I realized they were telling the truth and they confided in me, they began to be more demanding about the work. One thing they never told me is why they did not type their letters on the machine since they are so intelligent; they are also in that. At first, I said nothing that could make them believe they had not learned and that it surprised me. But one afternoon, one of these gentlemen sat down and wrote a few lines, and I noticed he was typing with only one finger, the right middle finger. He typed fast like me or more, but although it is not much, because I also type fast, it is strange because if I do the work, they can do it without witnesses, since they did not know if I was going to denounce them, thanks to what they gave me. Then, they were very scrupulous about other things. They insisted that I wear elastic gloves and they themselves brought me the paper in large quantity (this one is among what remains of it) but without origin marks so I could be sure they did not give orders capriciously nor be taken for maniacs. I had the habit of leaving a margin on the left of the paper in letters and elsewhere, but they did not. Sometimes they let me put a margin but almost always at times they exhausted the sheet and not for lack of paper, to the point of getting into the spaces between words, sometimes because they insisted on putting hyphens. They did strange things, for example, my machine has two question marks ¿ and ? because although they knew that in Castilian the first one is placed on top, they made me put them backwards in certain letters, with both underneath, but in others not; at best they put none. Neither 904 / 1373 April 29, 2018 Whether to put accents or not, on the other hand there were letters where they discussed every word with me, or if I skipped one, it wasn't necessary to correct it, and all I had to do was put the paper in the cart. In the past, it was clear that they did everything gladly and without getting angry, much less scolding. They didn't want me to use my tracing paper and brought me numerous brands; each time they told me which brand to use. Everything was done to get us used to discipline, because among themselves they were very disciplined and often, although without offending me, they showed me how little discipline we had. The other gentleman, from whom I received these dictations and whom I mention in the other letter, was stricter; he wrote and then corrected until the typing was strong or weak. It seems that Mr. Dei ninety-eight came; he was the best and the most well-known because he came often. He would sit on the couch that was in the dining room or in my armchair if we passed through the office I have in my apartment, and he would close his eyes to dictate. I’ll tell you something that no one will believe, but God knows well that I am not lying. When I had spent some time writing, one day he told me: "You made a mistake." When I write, I look at the keyboard because I didn't learn the blind typing method; I look, and it's true, I was stunned, he followed with his eyes closed. I asked him if he knew by some telepathy trick and he smiled and said no, there is no mystery; it’s just that by hearing me type so much, he had noticed that each key had a different sound, and that’s how he knew where I was. Moreover, sometimes he noticed something but, so as not to bother me or to see if I would correct it, he said nothing. After that and other things, if someone tells me they are not from Ummo, I keep quiet... Well, he says I should strive to copy so as to respect the lines, hyphens, and everything as they want. He reviews the numbers in case I made a mistake and everything in general. If I made any errors, which happened sometimes since it’s inevitable, including punctuation marks—although he noticed that even the original was missing some periods and commas because until now they were rare—they correct a few and tell me not to send the others on purpose. The only things already missing in the original, I say, are censored lines, but it will be understood that I can only faithfully copy those from the other uncensored original. The only ones are notes 16 and 17; after writing everything, he wasn’t sure if they were censored or not. He found them because he had misplaced them, but since I had already done the work, I’m sending them along with these copies among the others for sending... (Translator’s Note: Is there a missing passage here?) I put black strikethroughs on my written notes that were not in the original copy, so one knows they are mine, thus (=). Since I draw poorly and, moreover, they are not equal, besides giving a lot of work, I give the drawings to my brother-in-law to make copies and then I cut the text with the machine and paste them between the sheets. And I have nothing to say about this particular point. I continue without knowing anything. Now, I believe they are here, so I don’t think I’ll move or do anything else until they call me or come back. If I have done anything to them, God knows it was not intentional, and I know they are not vindictive. And nothing more until my next letter: you already know that I regret not signing, but they will be fine with it and I prefer to follow their advice not to give my name.