better to load the pdf file of this, if you will wish to read this book. this is audio book of, UFO contact from Planet ITIBI RA, CANCER PLANET MISSION, by Ludwig F. Pallmann and Wendelle Stevens. Herr Ludwig F. Pallmann, a health food processing equipment salesman, working in Peru and hearing of a giant Arrowroot species growing in the upper Peruvian Amazon, set out to find it. He departed from Leticia in an Indian dugout and was taken up a tributary of the Mirim River. Those Indians left him at the edge of their territory and he was picked up by another tribe who took him further up to an encampment of toga garbed white skinned people living in conical structures and served by silvery 30 metre diameter flying discs. Those beings told him they came from another planet they called Itibi Ra. They were operating a plantation here where they were hybridising plants from Itibi Ra with ours. INTRODUCTION. In 1967 I delivered several Bechcraft T 34 Trainer planes, to the Peruvian Navy, making fuel stops at the last Colombian town, the river port of Leticia on the Amazon. I had to wait for the weather on the east side of the Andes to clear and so I went down to the river dock to see what was coming in. On an impulse I decided to hire some native boatmen there to take me as far as they could go up river and back in one day. The Yavari branches off the Amazon not very far downstream from Iquitos. I hired several natives with a dugout canoe to take me up the river into some wild jungle to view rare orchids and to snap some photographs. I wanted to get completely away from civilization for one day. As we putted along with their antique outboard motor tied on the rear, I remarked on the lush dense vegetation along the bank there and wondered why the natives made no plantations of some of the more rare and exotic tropical fruits that grew in great abundance, but which we never saw and most never heard of at home. I was certain there must be a market for them. It would only require a little Organization. There were exquisite species like the Chirimoya, Mamaya, Tumbo, Mandarina, Cuanabana and Guayaba, all of which I thought would find a ready market in the United States. They were available here at every fruit stand from Colombia to Bolivia. I was even entertaining some ides of hauling them back by the airplane load. The natives thought this might be too big a project for them. And then one of them said that he knew there were some Americans 3 or 4 days up the river who were doing just that. He knew of a white man who had gone up there to look for them some months ago and never came back down! These Indians had never seen the Americans and had only heard of them From wilder tribes farther upstream. We Were on the main course of the Yavari at that time. Theo he said they had airplanes up there. Gosh, my idea was already being exploited by somebody else. I asked about the man and somebody said he was Aleman (German). Americans ? What kind of Americans ? There weren t any Americans that I knew of up there and why didn t the man come back? Why hadn t they seen the Americans ? This was the only access to the region. They had to pass by here to get up there. Why hadn t the German come back? There was no other way out of the region. The natives didn t seem concerned. This was not their problem. I was always intrigued by the stories of Colonel Percy H. Fawcett who disappeared in the jungles near here many years ago. He had found the ruins of an ancient lost city and was trying to get back to it. His disappearance became one of the great mystery legends of history. Here was another disappearance and nobody seemed to care. Is that what happened to Fawcett? If I disappeared would anybody care? We went out a half day and then came back down to Leticia. I worried about that man. Back in Lima I was discussing this with Senor Robert Woods, who had heard such stories too, and he referred me to another Peruvian gentleman who was interested in such things and collected stories of that kind as a sort of hobby. I stayed over another night and arranged to meet this man at his home. Mentioning the comment by the Indians to him produced a nod of familiarity, and he hunted up a news clip in his files which seemed to refer to the event, or at least a similar one. According to the clipping a Senor Ludwig F. Pallmann, A German salesman who sold food processing equipment and health foods to a chain of stores in Lima, had gone up river from Iquitos in the Peruvian/ Brazilian border area looking for a giant Arrowroot plant species for possible hybridising for the health food business. He was looking for a greater yield by improving the strain. As the story went, when the Indians who were taking him upriver understood what he wanted, they asked him why he didn t go further upstream, about three more days journey, to where a party of Americans were doing the same thing. He could make arrangements with them. Intrigued, he decided to do just that only to Find that these Indians would not go, but one more day up river to where they would turn him over to another tribe for the rest of the trip. Unable to persuade them to change their minds, he resigned himself to the situation and accepted it when the time came. He paid off the boatmen and let them return downstream. His new paddlers took him near the place inhabited by the Americans but superstitiously would not go all the way, and they put him ashore with his equipment, pointing out where to go to find them. He reportedly walked to the camp, consisting of plastic like Tee Pee tents for shelter and found fair skinned people there. They were dressed in light toga like garments and spoke a strange language. He hailed them in English but they didn t seem to understand. Then he tried Spanish, and German with no better luck. He got a limited response in French and they welcomed him and provided him a place to stay. When he learned to communicate with them he was told that they came from another planet outside of our solar system which they called Itibi ra, that they were indeed hybridising plants and stock to be taken there. They were served by three beautifully streamlined disc shaped flying machines that were used to maintain contact with others like them. After some time in this place, he knew that his business associates would be worried about his being missing so long, and he began to make plans to leave. The Itibi raians graciously offered to deliver him to his destination in one of their aircraft and they loaded him up to go. He decided, because of his long absence, to go to his ranch in the Dominican Republic instead of to Lima and was taken there in 15 minutes. That was the story reported in the newspaper in Lima. This didn t quite fit the story at the river but it had some of the elements and more importantly to me was the reference to the disc shaped flying machines. I had been chasing UFOs for over 25 years and here was a fantastic case if there was anything to it. Now my curiosity was heightened by the double mystery. They were centered in the same place! I had to know more. I tried to get in touch with Mr. Pallmann before starting home. A couple of the specialized food stores knew of him but did not know how to find him in Lima because he came to them. My trail ran out and I had to leave for Tucson. By then I had come to accept the reality of UFOs as a phenomenon, because I had encountered phenomenal cases all around the world and there were frequent reports from everywhere. These strange objects seemed to be intelligently operated and controlled vehicles which clearly exceeded our own existing Earth technology, but I had not quite accepted the occupants, if there were any. Obviously, if they were intelligently controlled, then there must be someone intelligent aboard, but I did not know how I could deal with that problem. Anybody with any rational sense of science at all knew that the stories of human occupants was absurd because in all the miracles of creation and evolutionary adaptation for survival, the happenstance chance of life anything at all like ours evolving from the accidental stroke of Lightning in the primordial soup of chemicals of an embryonic planet at the right time, into the right mix, to start an evolutionary chain that would parallel ours in any degree at all was statistically ridiculous. Another humanity like us made the whole idea inconceivably remote, Therefore stories involving human occupants of UFOs were strictly for science fiction fans and did not deserve study, To give serious consideration to such stories was putting oneself on dangerous ground. Fuzzy balls, hairy masses and slimy blobs were much more acceptable. No, human occupants were out, but the stories persisted and were interesting, and I continued to chase the tales of UFO sightings and activities all over South America. One thing that puzzled me was the fact that very primitive people, completely out of touch with civilization, told stories very similar to others described clear around the world from them. These did not have any preconceived ideas or any concepts to be trained out of them and they simply accepted the visitors as visitors in the same way that they accepted me as a visitor, and we were both equally real to them. This may account in some measure for the seemingly higher incidence of contact with more primitives. They referred to the UFOnauts as brothers from the sky , as any investigator in those areas well knows. There were cases where they were not as brotherly, however, and they also occurred in remote locations completely out of touch with mainstream humanity. A wealthy Bolivian businessman of excellent reputation whom I have personally known for 15 years and far whom I have delivered more than a dozen air transport planes for his local cargo airline operation out of La Paz, the capital of Bolivia, confided a story that took place in the hills above one of his 17 ranches on the east side of the Andes. In 1969 I had flown a recently acquired Douglas C54 transport plane down to his ranch at Santa Rosa, just up the Rapulo River from the Rio Mamore. He had a meat processing plant at this ranch and dressed out cattle for his neighbouring ranchers also. Above his property to the west was a sheep herder with a large flock, Some of which Oscar Bowles occasionally dressed out for the neighbour and hauled to market. We were sitting around a family style table having lunch of wild ostrich egg scrambled with grated beef when I asked if they ever saw Platillos volantes around there, and demonstrated with the saucer under my coffee cup. The ranch hands said, Whooaa, muchos han visto (many have seen them). Then Oscar told me a story they were all familiar with which had taken place at the shepherd neighbour s property. The shepherd and two of his Indian helpers were watching the flock on a grassy hill one day, when they saw a silent disc shaped aircraft come out of some of the scattered white clouds in the bright blue sky overhead. It glided softly down in a curving approach as it bobbed gently on the air currents, until it was only 50 feet above their heads. It stopped and hovered a moment, and then from the bottom of the craft came flashes of white light, like electricity jumping a gap, about 30 times in quick succession, and the sheep struck by the rays fell to the ground in the Flock. As it became apparent that the flock was the target of interest, the shepherd picked up a stick and, raising it, started to run toward the slowing shiny metallic disc. With his first threatening motion of raising the club there was a flash of violet light and he suddenly was unable to continue the motion. It was like he was immersed in molasses. He could barely move and then very slowly. He could roll his eyes and look around. He saw his helpers apparently in the same kind of paralysis. He could think clearly and wondered who was in such a vehicle. The stricken sheep did not move. As he watched, the silver disc shaped craft with a shiny dome on top, descended still more, to about 5 or 6 feet above the ground, and a trap door with a built in stair opened down from underneath, and two human like feet started down the stair from the centre of the ship. First one and then another emerged, and as they reached the bottom of the stair and stepped off he was sure they were normal men in the strange suits. The suits were a bright, reflective white, one piece coverall type of garment with a transparent helmet over the head on top. The helmet was of dark glass and the suits fitted the body well. They each carried what looked like a shiny silver fire extinguisher bottle with a handle in one hand, and a black nozzle on the end of a white hose to the bottle in the other. They wore white gloves and white boots matching the suit. These two men walked around among the flock putting the fire extinguisher nozzle to each of the fallen sheep in turn, apparently showing little interest in the shepherds, They finished their task in only 3 or 4 minutes and then walked back and boarded the ship up the stairway. The stair retracted as the big circular ship, over 30 feet in diameter, drifted higher, to about 300 to 400 feet above. From that position there was a ssshhooo and the ship sped up into the blue sky at a steep angle and disappeared still going up. As soon as it was gone the sheep herdsmen came out of their paralysis and remained unsteady for only a moment and then rushed to the aid of the stricken sheep. There were 34 of them and they were all dead! The shepherd and his helpers dragged the dead sheep to one side and cut their throats to bleed them, but they did not bleed! The three men carried the carcasses to the hut and began to dress them out. They not only found them bloodless, they found certain organs considerably desiccated and spongy, including the brain, spleen and eyeballs, They decided not to eat the meat of those animals. The witnesses insisted that the UFOnauts looked like any other ordinary Earth humans in shape and size. They thought that the airplane was a marvellously beautiful piece of machinery. Those beings certainly looked human and they were quite sure that they did not come from any place on Earth. I had to agree. But what of the relatively high incidence of reporting human like UFOnauts? A turning point for me was when I investigated a UFO landing in Ecuador in 1972. And it was between Cuenca and Azogues, in the middle of the night, that a spectacular UFO landing observed by many witnesses took place. The UFO was first seen as a brilliant pinkish red star in the south west sky, many times as bright as the brightest stars in the midnight moonless blackness of that might. The owner of the first self serve supermarket in Cuenca, who lived with his wife and children east of town on the Cuenca Azogues highway, was unaccountably awakened at 01:20 after mid night and got up. Looking out the front windows, he saw this very strange star moving and got his wife up to see it. They both watched for a moment and she went and awakened their 17 year old son, who also joined them in time to see the star, now a brilliant yellow orange in color, land on a grassy meadow on their side of the river and beyond the highway. The Light dimmed down to a reddish glow with intermittent red flashes. Then two brilliant white narrow beams of light came on and shone straight up into the sky. The local Toyota dealer in Cuenca and a party of nine people in a station wagon returning from a family gathering in the countryside south of this point were just crossing the river on a bridge to the north when they saw the pinkish red star to their west. It was moving east in a slow floating trajectory below the ridge line to the south west, like it was looking for something on the ground. They observed the color change to reddish orange and the intermittent flashes of red light blinking. They reached the intersection and turned left on to the highway to Cuenca. The driver pulled over to the right and stopped and they all got out to see this orange and red light bigger than a full moon in size. As it continued to descend, they observed a ring of small blue lights on the underside near the rim and watched it until it settled behind some trees between them and the river and disappeared. Then they got back in the car and proceeded to Cuenca. About that same time of night a county highway supervisor, aged 48, and his 15 year old son were returning to Cuenca from where he worked at Azogues. They were giving another adult highway engineer who worked for the same department a ride with them. At about 01:35, as they rounded a switch back overlooking the same river and bridge to the south, they saw ahead and beyond the road bridge to the west, between the river and the road, what looked like a car that must have left the road at high speed and crashed with its headlights pointing straight up. This driver pulled over to the right and stopped and all three men got out and crawled down the bank to the meadow level a few feet below. There as they got closer they could see through the willow break between them and the crash that there were three men moving about outside of the car but this car was very different and it had not crashed. It was a dark, circular, metallic vehicle with a raised dome about the size of a Volkswagen bug on top of a sloping circular all around flange, and seemed to be resting on three cylinder like legs. It had dozens of small dim alternately spaced red and blue lights around the underside of the rim. The ground underneath dimly reflected the red and blue glow. There was a red beam like a searchlight that seemed to rotate slowly around the outside rim of the craft, which illuminated the surrounding trees and side of the mountain above the highway each time it came around. Besides that there were two brilliant, narrow, white beams of light that shined straight up from a tube like cylindrical device that projected through the metal housing just below the cockpit dome in front . A sliding door was open in the canopy and three human beings in white, close fitting, one piece, cover all jumpsuits were standing outside on the grass. One of them had his left foot up on the rim flange and stretching forward over that leg, was doing something to the cylinder that housed the two vertical white beams. The other two stood behind him and to his right, one closer to the open door of the ship. The middle one was holding some tools in his hands and handed one to the repairman doing the work. This act strangely looked like it was done in slow motion, or like under water. All three men had their heads uncovered and were breathing our air. The uniforms were all alike and of the same strangely scintillating or shiny white material. There didn t seem to be any collars or cuffs, or any buttons or seams, and no pockets, in the uniforms. The only thing that looked familiar was a kind of black epaulet on the shoulders of all three, like a Navy uniform, the witnesses said. One of the UFOnauts turned and looked right in the direction where the three men were crouched behind a raised water conduit running through the separating willow break, and at that point the 15 year old became so frightened he began to vomit. His father ordered him back to the car but he was too afraid to go alone and his dad had to take him. The other man refused to be left alone and so they all went to the car together where the father locked the youth in and went back with the other man to their viewing vantage point. When they got back of the landing place the three UFOnauts were inside the red illuminated cabin, the two bright white Lights were out, and the red rotating light had speeded up. The red and blue rim lights were much brighter and had colored beams shining down. There were several orange beams of light shining down also from the centre underneath, and the whole ship now seemed to be going through the color changes of heating up metal. It rose slowly to about 50 feet as it retracted the cylinder landing gear with round footpads on the bottom, and the red beacon sped up to a blur. It glowed through red to pinkish orange to orange and suddenly shot off, like a ping pong ball struck fiercely and ricocheting between two close walls, almost like a zigzag lightning strike. Now here was one very difficult case to dispute. I had discovered these three parties independently. Until then they each knew nothing of anybody else s experience that night. They each thought they were the only ones to witness this event, and all of them hesitated to tell anybody else for fear of ridicule. It was never written up by any of them until we did it together a few weeks after it happened. They only contacted me because I had given a UFO slide lecture in Cuenea, and I was an outsider and therefore no danger to them. They all refused to let their names be used and refused to let me publish their names in Ecuador. There has been no media coverage of this case and the witnesses are unknown to each other. There was no mistaking the humans. They were just like us! I had to revise all my thinking. First the unsupported Pallmann story. Then the Bolivian shepherd who had lost his sheep to some UFOnauts who arrived in a disc shaped craft. And twin Aymara Indian brothers meeting human beings near Lake Marcahuasi who took them inside their disc shaped space craft and to an underwater base. Other stories I had heard from the Indians of the Andes and the Amazon Basin of their brothers from the sky , which I had interpreted to mean angelic beings in their religious mythologies, all took on new meaning. When Antenio Necta, a Jivaro medicine man in the Jivaria above Sucua, in eastern Ecuador, said that the brothers were real and were flesh and blood like you and I, I had to believe him. He thought their disc shaped craft no more remarkable than our helicopters, and from his point of view I could not disagree. << this is the sketch made in my notebook by Hector Crespo M. A close up eyewitness to the repair of this landed domed disc aircraft at 01;30 am, on Aug.26, 1965. After the repair, the ship took off and flew away at prodigious speed. His analogy was an interesting one. He didn t have either creationist or evolutionist theories to worry about, and scoffed at both arguments as being very silly . When I asked him of his origins he swept his arms around over the whole jungle to the east and said their ancestors came from a great land to the west, now gone. Those, in turn, came from another world before this. He said the brothers from the sky still come from those other worlds and he knew that there were many up there. Not complicated at all to him. He did not wish to go to the United States and he did not wish to go to another planet. But why human? How many species of humans are out there? I suppose a single analogy on a world scale might be found in the insect kingdom. There are scores of species catalogued and maybe as many more not yet discovered. They are found everywhere, in the air, on the ground, underground, in and under water, under snow and dense darkness and brilliant light. Some can survive in heat and some in cold, some in dry and some in wet, and even intense radiation environments. They come in a great number of sizes and in every conceivable variety. There are great differences in eye structure, mouth, respiratory system, wings (if they have them), leg structure, etc; yet they all have 6 legs, an exoskeleton, a horizontal frame and stereo sensing. They did not evolve in a linear chain, one from another, in an unbroken sequence, and they are found in every part of the world without exception. Is it any more complicated to realize that an infinite Creator might also provide a great number of different species in the human kingdom, perhaps on an even greater scale, and endow them with the ability to propagate from planet to planet as insects propagate from locality to locality? Maybe only a few basics are common such as an erect form, a torso, a single head, and two arms and two legs, both with appendages. From there the diversity of unit adaptation, as with the insects, might be considerable. I don't think the lightning strike in chemical slime is really a tenable origin, and suggest that perhaps some of these UFOnauts may be right when they say that humanity migrates from planet to planet just as we go from continent to continent in our own small world universe. Another strange co incidence that fits exactly into this timetable, location and scene, was another special UFO research project that may, in light of later events, prove to be highly significant. Those familiar with the mysterious phenomenon more recently called synchronicity will understand better what is really going on. In any event, I met Richard Greenwell on another airplane delivery to Lima in 1968. Greenwell was teaching at the University in Lima when my friend with the newsclip collection gave me an address and suggested I get in contact with him, that he headed some kind of local organization investigating UFOs. Meeting him proved highly exciting and he had a great deal of information. We got along so well that I later sponsored him so he could come to Tucson to take over the open job of office manager for the Aerial Phenomena Research Organization (APRO) headquartered here in Tucson, a job which he held for years. This was a perfect arrangement because Richard was bi lingual, being fluent in Spanish as well as English. He had even written a thick UFO book in Spanish, one of the classic documents, though it has newer been printed in English. In 1968 Richard was spending a lot of time investigating a UFO photo case that had perhaps the best color photographs of a UFO up to that time in the whole world UFO scene. There were four photographs in all, and Richard was trying to establish the facts in this case as best that could be done under the circumstances existing at the time. Now what is so significant about all this is that those four pictures were taken near Yungay, high on the upper shoulders of the massive Mount Huascaran, which lies in a straight line from the American s plantation site up the Yavari River where they were using silver disc shaped airplanes, and another site north of Pucallpa, also being the entrance to the Weayali valley and its plantation sites, straight to the nearest waters of the Pacific. And those four pictures were taken in the same month of 1967 that the American s activity was at its busiest, and the time of the story in the newsclip on Pallmann. A few years later Yunguay was completely wiped out in a massive mud slide. Those four photographs were of silver disc shaped Flying craft with a dome on top. It was also in this same area, in 1967, that Captain Sanvitti was flying a Douglas DC6 Commercial Passenger Air Transport of the Fawcett Airling on a regular run, with a full load of passengers, enroute from Chiclayo to Lima, when it was approached from the east, from Mount Huascaran, by a large funnel shaped flying abject that flew all around the transport in flight at close range, in full view of all the passengers, and then flew out to sea. This stupendous demonstration was repeated by a second identical ship that came from the same direction, from the east to the left, as the first funnel shaped object was disappearing to the west out over the Pacific. Both of these huge machines, bigger than the airliner, came from the same area north east of Mount Huascaran where we find the Mirim River and the Ucayali Country plantations operated by the Americans . Is this simply coincidence or is there something more to it? I do not know whether the Indian at Leticia was telling his own story or relating somebody else s account. The German food processor did exist and he did have a name although it was not known by the Indians at the time. The plantation operation seemed to be accepted as fact. This would have been a sizeable project requiring too much logistical support to go unnoticed, but how were they getting in and out of there? There was no known landing facility up in that country. The Lima newspaper article apparently was making reference to the same operation, but with the characteristic errors of journalistic reporting. The man’s name was spelled Pallimann whereas it was actually Pallmann. The article called the planet of origin of the visitors Itapura when it was really Itibi Ra. Pallmann was not returned from the plantation to the Dominican Republic when he left as mentioned in the article, and he did not make his first contact with the extraterrestrials by river from Iquitos. Of course, since the Indians did not have a name, there may easily have been two different men involved, possibly even the convict who had escaped from the jail at Leticia. I searched for Ludwig Pallmann all over South America in 1968 and 69 and again in 1971 and 72. He was moving around Peru in 1968 and then disappeared. I also looked for him in West Germany in 1977 and 78 but failed to find any productive lead. The West German passport office had nothing on him. I could not get a line on him but never gave up searching. When Lou Farish heard of this book, Cancer Planet Mission from Colin Board and discovered it set in an area he knew I was familiar with, he asked me what I knew or could find out about such a case for him. I wrote back and told him what I already knew up to that time, and that I had never caught up to Pallmann, though I had looked for him in Peru and West Germany. Lou responded by sending me a copy of the book. Imagine my surprise to find that this was in fact the story that I had been chasing in 1967, 66 and 69, and the reason I didn t make contact in Peru was because the man had no office there, and I didn t find him in Germany because, though German by birth, he had become an English Citizen and was travelling on an English passport and working for an English company. Another coincidence was that Richard Greenwell was an English Citizen living on an English passport and was working for an English enterprise in Lima. As I read this book I was again struck by the mysterious phenomenon of synchronicity so often encountered in UFO investigations. I have personally been in many of the places described in this book, and some of them at the same time as Ludwig Pallmann. We could easily have eaten in the same places at the same time. I had stayed in both the Crillon Hotel, where they have the best cevichi de corbina in the world; and the Savoy Hotel, where they have a cosy cocktail lounge, In 47 to 69 I have been to other places mentioned in Pallmann s story too, and I can personally vouch for the accuracy of the descriptions. This man was actually there in person and knew his way around. Having now read the manuscript through, I could see where Pallmann had covered his tracks in the newspaper interview with the Lima reporter. He was doing the same thing I d had to do on occasion to protect my own Indian friends: from unwanted disturbance, and to keep the story simple. He had associated the location with the Peruvian town of Iquitos because you could never get to the plantation site from Iquitos by river, and the jungle there was all but impassable. He had omitted all of the earlier contacts with the Itibians as well as what was going on in Lima and elsewhere, probably to head off possible interference for them as the operation was still going on. The story I was pursuing now was much more complete and more in accord with other similar stories around the world. But the most important thing to me now is having personally approached what may have been the ancient lost city sought by Percy Fawcett and mentioned to Pallmann by the Itibians. They called it Linislan. That experience came about in a very strange way. Synchronicity again? I was on my way back to Lima and Antofagasta in my own twin engined Lockheed Learstar in 1972, and had carried my friend Lee Elders to Ecuador to leek for a huge pyramid on the east side of the Andes mountains. We had parked the Learstar at Guyaquil and I went up to Cuenca with Lee to help him get his expedition together and to see him off. In the middle of this, the country went through an armed revolution and my Learstar at Guayaquil was shot up in the airport battle and put out of commission. I had to stay in Cuenca and join Lee in his expedition. While we were getting ready was when I investigated the UFO landing along the Azogues River. We found Lee s pyramid mountain with a 300 foot high temple near the top, on the east face, and a round dome on top of that, in a society that historically did not know the science of setting a keystone and built their arches with stepped lintels. This structure clearly pre dated all known ruins in South America except possibly Tiahuanacu. Here again, the local Indians told us of seeing the ships of the brothers from the sky , and that sometimes the crowning dome of the temple structure seemed to glow with its own light, like in the darkness of the frequent night thunderstorms. In deference to our Jivaro friends who live around it we have promised not to reveal its exact location. But it was here that we learned of a great abandoned and overgrown city in the jungles to the south, which was old beyond all tribal legends. Nobody knew when this city was ever occupied or by whom. < This great city is not over 400 miles north west of Iquitos and on almost a direct line from the three Itibi plantations in the south, on the Mirim and Ucayali river Sites in Peru and the Paurcartambo plantation in Bolivia, up to the Magdalena River plantation in Colombia, and it is in the dense jungles of southern Ecuador. It covers over 20 square miles area and is completely overgrown with vegetation and cannot be seen from the air. On the ground, however, the evidence is quite unmistakable. The fractured boulevards are lined with tumbled down and overgrown remains of houses, public buildings and temples, some of considerable size. There are some features there which completely defy explanation. From a large stone hemi sphere near the river, a single stone the size of a small house, completely covered with undeciphered inscriptions, one can see of the north east about a mile away, a giant stepped pyramid. And ninety degrees around to the right in the south east, and about the same distance away, one can make out the tops of three huge stone stele set in perfect geometrical formation and covered on both sides with the strange symbols Like those on the round stone. Some of the most unusual features there seemed to have no logical explanation at all. It was found along the side of the great cobbled boulevard some distance from the public central plaza. This was a formation of three huge 200 diameter circles, flat as a table top and raised a few feet above the ground level. They were perfectly spaced 120 degrees apart on a common centre, and they were only separated by about 100 feet, with two of them paralleling the road and about 100 feet back. Each of these huge flat circular plat forms had three geometrically spaced depressions an equal distance from the centre and 120 degrees apart. All of these depressions were identical and were of uniform size about four feet in diameter and several inches deep. These circles could have been theatre stages or some kind of game court, but they were out in the open, alone, with no other building structures nearby. In response to my usual questions about UFOs, these Indians were familiar with them and saw them at times in all generations, even over the city ruins. Could these plat forms have been used for public landings of circular craft which descended and ascended vertically? Indeed that seemed then, and still seems today, to be the only logical explanation for this feature. Now, in this manuscript, I read that the extraterrestrials from Itibi Ra actually went to and searched such a ruins for a certain symbol. How many great cities of this kind lie there abandoned and overgrown in the Amazon jungle? A great curiosity indeed. This story certainly is not fiction to me, and it should not be to any sincere student of the UFO phenomenon. Remember that Pallmann was not known as a UFO fan and carried no such literature around with him, yet his story contains many of the pattern keys of significant UFO contact cases. I submit this story, which I have reason to consider real and legitimate, to you for your personal study and evaluation. If you do not agree with me I am sure that you will at least find that the principles of the Itibians are sound and worthy of emulation. Although it has been over 15 years since the time of this story, the Indians who worked the plantations will still live around there and may even have kept the plantations up. And then the Itibians may have come back by now and resumed their work. At any rate there should be plant stocks from Itibi Ra still growing in what is left of the plantations. I have been unable still, to locate Ludwig F. Pallmann since encountering the rest of his story, and I invite him or anybody who knows him or his whereabouts to get in touch with me at the address in this book as soon as possible to make some arrangements to coordinate information. We are interested in pinpointing the locations of the four Itibian plantations in South America with a view to examining the conditions of the plant stocks now. We are prepared, in return, to take Ludwig Pallmann with us on our next visit to the ruins of the ancient abandoned city, which just may be the city called Linislan visited by the Itibians when Pallmann was taken with them on that trip. We are also interested in the sequel manuscript which, up to now, may not have been published. If anybody has a copy of, or knowledge of, this manuscript we invite them also to get in touch with this publisher. Wendelle Stevens. (We offer the book CANCER PLANET MISSION exactly as it was published in its original form, without alterations of corrections of any kind. We have sought for years to contact Ludwig Pallmann, and also the original printers, The Foster Press of London, both equally unsuccessful; the Foster Press having been out of business for years according to our London contact. Nor have we been able to get a line on Pallmann. We have resorted to this move in an attempt to make connection with one or the other or both. We have added Appendices following the book.) 13 map FOREWORD. Cancer Planet Mission, the introduction to a series of books about Cosmo philosophy has to be considered a revolutionary literary work. Ever since a young man, with a pacifist heart, escaped the Gestapo and found refuge in England, the most shattering events have happened in his life. Recently, the leading London newspaper THE GUARDIAN, under the headline: TO PERU FROM SPACE, reported: I Mr. Pallmann, (the author,) was doing food research for the Agricultural University of Lima, Peru, in order to find an inexpensive high protein food. He hit on arrow root as a binding agent. Whilst biological research near the upper Amazon River . AND HERE BEGINS what some reporters call The greatest cosmic story ever told We are faced with the undeniable fact that God has created man not just on one particular planet. There are far superior men and women on other planets: superior not in pride, contempt and hypocrisy, but in health, respect and happiness. Friends of Cosmo philosophy believe it to be absurd that God should only be concerned with one particular faith and with only one particular Planet. There is this Spiral Galaxy of ANDROMEDA. It is one of a million galaxies and consists of several million suns. Most of these suns may have created billions of planets similar to ours. There, the author tells us, with the same endeavour, as on our planet (he human animal has murdered God and their fellow human beings: but also many civilisations have reached the higher form of development, the true Biological Age. On such Planets the usual glory and power seekers, warmongers, the god of myth, fear and superstition no longer exist. Cosmo philosophy tells about the wisdom of these people and their courage to new faith. How they survived the greatest disasters. How they developed their amazing space crafts in order to settle on other planets. How they achieved happiness and a longer span of life. How they finally made peace between themselves and God. Mr. Pallmann s diary speaks with enthusiasm of the amazing central energy generation of their Space craft, but most longingly he talks about their Cosmo philosophy which has long replaced the hypocrisies and superstitions of the less developed planets. Our ethics are based on love, compassion, reincarnation, threats of hell and a general theological pattern fixed and stiffened by dogmas thousands of years old. Their pattern or the future pattern for religion is based on mutual respect and because of this code, he was told that most advanced civilizations on other planets are not at all the monsters pictured by science fiction, but they are cheerful and humble people of great intelligence. They believe, that God does not punish, nor offer specific commandments, but that Gad is Nature and Their philosophy is determinist too and they know that in time when they have gone even further ahead, we shall arrive where they are now and abolish wars, as they have, and with them superstitions and factional religions. Mr. Pallmann, has Managed, if putting pen to Paper, to write an enthralling and stimulating book which is not only very readable but has given us the message of a revolutionary futuristic pattern of life: COSMOPHILOSOPHY. Ludwig Pallmann was an international salesman for machinery to pulverize grain, who travelled widely and spoke several languages. While in India, he encountered a mysterious man on a train who had the light brown skin of a Eurasian, huge dark eyes, a rather small mouth, and an unusual chin line. The lower part of the jaw looked slightly deformed. Above all, there was this peculiarity of speech, this complete reliance upon an electronic gadget to reproduce his voice. The two started chatting, and later met up again, in India, and later, when Pallmann was selling machinery to finely grind the yucca root in Peru. Eventually, the mystery man takes Pallmann on a train ride to Huancayo. Then they travel to a lake, where a UFO glides to the edge. Pallmann takes a trip to an alien plantation, where Amazon plants are being harvested and hybridized. He learns about the cosmophilosophy of the humanoid aliens, which is of a pacifist, vegetarian, socialist nature. Pallman is informed that man s highest duty is to protect women and children from violence. There is also a trip to a lost city, Linislan, somewhere northeast of Cuzco. The author vanished and the publisher went out of business soon after the book s release, adding to the mystery. This special edition features an introduction by ufology legend, Wendelle Stevens. CHAPTER 1. I Meet Satu Ra. The Cosmic story of AMAT MAYNA begins in London, Not that London, swinging or prosaic, depending upon how old you are and how you look at it, played much of a part in the shattering events that were to befall me. But it so happened that I was in London at the time, going about my lawful occasions in the normal course of my business. My business, loosely speaking, is the sale and the installation of heavy machinery used in the large scale production of food, for example, milling assemblies for the fine grinding of cereals on a vast programme. I was visiting London at the time, for my business makes me a perpetual globetrotter. It chanced that I was in London on that first day of October, nineteen sixty four. I was taking a breather, a brief pause in a heavy Latin American itinerary, and also making the necessary arrangements for the next part of my schedule: INDIA. As I recall it, the weather that Thursday morning was fine. The sun still had warmth in it, although there was a hint of approaching autumn, The streets, as usual, were packed as I made my way from the Strand Palace Hotel to India House, where I made application for a visitor s visa to visit India. The business was conducted in a very agreeable fashion with a youngish official, who wished me well and hoped that I would find it a viable proposition to install in the future a battery of machinery for cereal grinding. As he put it, anything that would help to solve India’s chronic food problem, any kind of technical improvement would be welcome. After lunch, I set about making the necessary travel arrangements. Here I met my first snag, I could not get an immediate direct flight. As I didn t want to cool my heels too long in London I settled for an alternative route, which meant that I had something like thirty six hours to kill. I passed the time boning up on India, for it was years since I had last visited that huge subcontinent. In the upshot, the flight was without interest. The last leg was from Teheran to Calcutta, and I landed at Dum Dum Airport round about mid day, the fourth of October. Although I had been to India before, I had never been to Dum Dum Airport, It has to be seen to be believed. My first impression of it was that of a mad house at carnival time. It was a Brueghel brought slap into the middle of the twentieth century and set in the heat of India. I had to force a way through the teeming crowds that thronged the concourse. There were people waiting to emplane, people waiting for incoming flights, and people just waiting. People, people, people. People of all ages. People of all shapes and sizes. People of all colors and nationalities. No wonder, I thought, as I made my way to a taxi, that India had a food problem. As I settled in the taxi, and told the driver to take me to the Oberon Grand Hotel, I remembered a story I had heard several years before. It is a story about people meeting I is alleged that if three Frenchmen got together for lunch, then they would have started a new political party before the time they had reached their coffee. If three Germans meet, then they form a protection society, and the first resolution they pass is one calling upon heaven to protect them from the competition of Japanese gadgetry. Similarly, three Spaniards would form a company to manufacture crystal chandeliers, whilst three Americans would immediately form a luncheon club and set about drafting menus for the next meetings. But if three Indians met, they would at once call in another thirty Indians and organize a religious festival in honour of their gods. I thought of this anecdote as the taxi weaved its honking way through the crowded streets. There were obvious signs of the Indian s preoccupation with his gods. I even saw a cow bring traffic to a halt just before the taxi screeched to a stop outside the Oberon Grand Hotel. The Oberon Grand is something left over from the Spacious days of the British Raj. If I were asked to give my impression of the Oberon Grand in a few words, then I would have to say that, for me, it stands as the citadel for the modern cult of servility, The Oberon Grand is vast by any standards, It never seems to have many guests in it at any one time, or, rather, there is always room to move. But however many guests there are, they are always outnumbered by the servants. I don’t know the exact ratio of servants to guests, but at an estimate, I should say that there are anything from five to eight servants to each guest in the hotel. Now, for the man who lives out of a suitcase, this surfeit of servants poses an immediate problem. Tipping, I think I m a bit of an expert on tipping, as I ve tipped my way round the world on many occasions. Some say that the word originates in France, and comes from pourboire. This means showing satisfaction for services rendered by giving the servant some money in order to buy a drink. Others say that the word derives from the initial letters of three other words: To Insure Promptness. This means that you buy quick service by greasing the servant’s palm with money. Whatever the origin of the word, a traveller staying in an hotel is still expected to tip, despite the ten per cent that is often added to the bill as a service charge. I ve tipped in many strange places, but I ve never tipped as I was expected to tip in India, Here, you are ranked according to the way you tip. A smallish tip, and you are a maharaja, Or al least a mahatma. A bigger tip, and you are a mandarin, a veritable saint. OF course, if you don't give any tip at all, then you re a dirty, mean louse, and you have to get your drinking water for yourself. In India you hear the word baksheesh a hundred times a day. You have to use your own judgment whether or not you do give a tip. The starving, wide eyed, unsmiling children of India make you think twice before you give anybody a tip, and they make you wonder why you Up at all. Certainly, in this country you never give a fat man a lip. I quickly found this out, as I just as quickly found out about the real value of money, and of life. You have to learn the art of giving the right amount of money to the right people at the right time, otherwise you would be everlastingly tipping. This was my philosophy, a materialistic philosophy, I must admit, as I went about my business in Calcutta, But I found, as I went from contact to contact, that this appeared to be the normal Indian way of life. As I moved about the business quarter of Calcutta, so I was impressed by the sheer number of people I saw. I knew that India, like China, was undergoing a population explosion, but I was not prepared for the milling crowds that thronged the streets at all hours of the day and night. They weren t happy crowds. Indeed, they did not look well fed crowds, It is common knowledge that the vastly increasing world population is making rapid inroads into the dwindling food reserves available to Earth. Some people, some governments are doing all they can to grapple with the problem. Here in India, everybody, from high government official to the lowliest of workers, seems overwhelmed by inertia, so that they were unable to do anything positive to meliorate the acute conditions of Want that prevail. Never in all my life have I seen a place like India that is screaming out for swift, efficient organization in order that people might survive, let alone enjoy a decent standard of living. And as I went from one businessman to another in the few days that I spent in Calcutta, I thought I saw the main reason why there was this inertia, this attitude of fatalism It is linked with bureaucratic red tape, but, above all, with religion. Now I m not one to knock organization and administration if it serves some useful function. Although I m not what you might call an orthodox religious person, yet I hope I respect the religious beliefs of others. I suppose you might call this the live and let live part of my basic philosophy. But out here in India I saw a country that was being strangled by its own bureaucratic red tape, a country that was dying because of its religious fatalism. I m not exaggerating when I make these, admittedly, sweeping charges. In all my wanderings over the face of the globe: in all my dealings with businessmen and with government officials, I have never met such finicky insistence on protocol, such cultivated bureaucracy for the sake of bureaucracy, such scepticism and superstition as I have encountered in India. I not only met intransigent officials and also immovable businessmen. I came up against half gods, saints, spirits and, inevitably, the holy animals by the thousand. It staggered me that it was no sin in India to let a child die of starvation, but it was a mortal sin to kill a sacred animal, even if that sacred animal was the very lowly rat, as it very often was. My good intentions towards the Indians and their food problem very soon dwindled to a resigned, albeit sentimental, detachment. Perhaps attachment is the better word, for although I could not make any progress with my business plans, yet I did become very much attached to India, and also, despite their inertia fatalism, to many of the Indians with whom I came into contact. But it was the attachment of the tourist and of the sight seer, not of the technician wanting to sell machinery. Not the attachment of an involved human being wanting to do something for starving people. After a few days of this hitting my head against the brick wall of Indian bureaucracy and religious fatalism, I decided that Calcutta was no place for me. After all, I had come all this way to India with a business proposition. I had not come as an idle spectator of the Indian scene, a rubber necking tourist. So I checked out of the Oberon Grand Hotel, having paid the tipping ransom first, and crossed the sub continent to Bombay. At least Bombay was western looking, geographically if no other way. Bombay was just as bad as Calcutta. I soon discovered that there were import and export rules by the hundred. Most western countries have this type of regulation, but here in Bombay the government had run riot with hundreds of them, each succeeding one more onerous than the previous one. If I could have entered into a business arrangement, then I found out that I would spend all my time making out endless lists, filling in countless forms, paying out duty and tax that would have beggared a philanthropic society and I represented a business concern. After I had spent a couple of days in Bombay and I d had time to size up the situation, I realized that I was getting nowhere fast. All these restrictions were understandable in the light of India’s recently won independence. She was still suffering from the mistrust of the alien, the suspicion of the undesirable foreigner. I gave up the unequal struggle, reflecting that it was pointless trying to do business in these circumstances. Every penny invested would have been at risk. The threat of nationalization was such that a businessman was always on the look out for a means of escape, even though that escape might involve a last despairing jump from a high window! Once I had made this decision, I felt a lot better in myself. I turned the business trip into a holiday, cabling my office to say that the business trip was off but the pleasure trip was on. That s the best of being the boss; you can make your own decisions and there s nobody to dispute them! In the same way that I had mingled with the crowds in Calcutta, so I now mixed with the throngs of Bombay, I remembered i lag from my school days, when we had been studying the works of Mark Twain. The famous American humorist had remarked about the bejewelled natives of India. Things must have changed since his day; for although I saw any amount of native Indians, I saw precious few jewels. Even in the hotels that I visited, jewels were conspicuous by there absence. The handful of faded old ladies who haunted such places aired nothing but their memories. I decided that the only way to see the real India, the India that is ignored by the tourists, was to travel the whole length of the country by tram, going third class in order to study the natives at first hand. So I bought a ticket for Madras, down on the south east coast, paid my hotel bill, handed out the inevitable baksheesh, and set out for the south, ruefully thinking that the whole trip had been one ghastly failure. Again, Mark Twain was brought to my mind. He had spoken about the charm and delight of travelling by train in India. Indeed, he had so rhapsodised about it, that he had asserted that the delight of it was beyond words. Once more, things must have changed since his day. There was one excellent word for it: smell. I had hardly settled in my compartment before I became aware of the smell. It was not the bottle of Scotch that I immediately uncorked once the train had started. That in itself was no mean feat: not the train s starting, but the fact that I had a bottle of Scotch to uncork. It is very difficult for anybody to get hold of whisky in India, but as I was an overseas visitor, I had been lucky. Thanks to the British, it is possible to travel pretty well everywhere in India. But as I discovered, though you can travel far and wide, you can t escape from the smell. If one has to love humanity, then in India one also has to learn how to love, and live with halitosis. <