And then the lawyer coughed, proposed a study, and named a substantial figure for a two-year research grant. Norman saw a chance to buy his house. He said yes. “I’m glad you agree the problem is a real one.”

“Oh yes,” Norman said, wondering how old this lawyer was. He guessed about twenty-five.

“We’ll just have to get your security clearance,” the lawyer said.

“I need security clearance?”

“Dr. Johnson,” the lawyer said, snapping his briefcase shut, “this project is top, top secret.”

“That’s fine with me,” Norman said, and he meant it. He could imagine his colleagues’ reactions if they ever found out about this.

What began as a joke soon became simply bizarre. Over the next year, Norman flew five times to Washington for meetings with high-level officials of the National Security Council over the pressing, imminent danger of alien invasion. His work was very secret. One early question was whether his project should be turned over to DARPA, the Defense Advanced Research Project Agency of the Pentagon. They decided not to. There were questions about whether it should be given to NASA, and again they decided not to. One Administration official said, “This isn’t a scientific matter, Dr. Johnson, this is a national security matter. We don’t want to open it out.” Norman was continually surprised at the level of the officials he was told to meet with. One Senior Undersecretary of State pushed aside the papers on his desk relating to the latest Middle East crisis to say, “What do you think about the possibility that these aliens will be able to read our minds?”

“I don’t know,” Norman said.

“Well, it occurs to me. How’re we going to be able to formulate a negotiating posture if they can read our minds?”

“That could be a problem,” Norman agreed, sneaking a glance at his watch.