"General Taylor, sir—"
He forced the thoughts from his brain with almost the same physical force with which he shoved his tired body erect.
"Yes, yes, thank you, sergeant. Good morning, gentlemen. Sorry to have kept you waiting."
There were perhaps thirty of them, all civilians, all crowding for a spot nearest the huge desk, all with stub pencils and sheafs of rumpled newsprint in their hands. A couple of flash-bulbs went off.
"General, can you tell us what the aliens' intentions are?"
And it had begun.
"I'm authorized to tell you that the alien space ship is hostile. But, under the circumstances we are convinced with reasonable certainty that their hostility may be ... mollified to an appreciable degree."
He watched them as they got the official double-talk down word for word. And then, "In other words, General—we are counter-attacking?"
"Sorry. That information is classified."
"About how high is the alien, sir?"