“Aliens? You must be joking.” Dr. Stanford Ellis collapsed into the chair with a squeak of faux leather. The last 6 hours had rocked his world to the core. Now, in this small, grey, military office smelling of paper and the Colonel’s unlit cigar, he faced the CO of the base. Emblazoned with ‘Top Secret’ in red ink across the cover, the offending file sat in the middle of a desk that fairly bristled with military efficiency. He closed his mouth and looked back across the desk toward Col. James . . .