The satellite picture on my tablet eliminated any doubt I had that this could be a group

hallucination. I stared down at one of eight pictures, looking at the buildings with a growing

sense of curiosity and unease. It's the strangest damn thing, Walter said from across my desk.

A town just appearing overnight like that. What do you make of it, boss?

I flipped back and forth between the photos of the buildings, which were laid out in a grid pattern.

They all looked immaculate. There were a couple of mansions with pristine yards and Olympic-sized

pools. There was what looked to be a library and a museum,

and a host of other buildings that all looked like they belonged in Manhattan or downtown Chicago.

And not one of them had been there yesterday.

I don't know yet, Walters, I said.

Bring me up to speed again.

I like to hear everything twice. Oh, and sit down if you like.

Yes, boss, Walter said. That field, or what had been a field, is located in central Texas, between

Dallas and Austin. The closest town is a little one called Penelope, population under 300, but it's also not far from Interstate 35, which is a busy highway.

I nodded. I had grown up in Texas. Of course, Walters didn't know that. I preferred to keep work at work and my personal life at home.

Apparently the field belongs to a big shot landowner out there, Walters continued.

Guy named Rick Richardson, if you can believe that.

He's got a couple of pump jacks in the area, but none on that particular tract.

And who found the buildings?

One of Richardson's men found them this morning, called it into his boss.

This Richardson fellow, called the local sheriff.

And, of course, we have a man inside with the sheriff's office.

...