‘Maybe so.’ ‘You’re dead, I guess you know?’ ‘Sir?’ ‘After all that nonsense out in Santa Monica, the funeral at Arlington. The countr... thinks you’re dead. Maybe a handful of people in the world know you’re still alive. Have you considered your position?’ ‘Ah.’ ‘I have reports you’ve been with them.’ ‘Sir?’ ‘Well? Have you met them? The aliens?’ ‘Yessir. Several of them, as a matter of fact. About all I can add is that, in my opinion, you have no reason to fear them.’ The President snorted. Jack’s roommate, Sylvester (who went by the nickname of Siller, rhymes with Killer, he would always say), was a black guy from New York who was also really sweet. Even better (under the circumstances) he had a girlfriend who lived out in town and he rarely spent a weekend night in the suite. Like Siller, a lot of the other suitemates were away on weekends, and this one was no different.I drove my little Chevy up to the parking lot at Jack’s dorm and Jack, unsurprisingly, was sitting on the. More

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