“Yes, Neal, I thought I’d drop by and see how you are doing.”

Neal opened the door the width of his body, standing in the gap to hide the mess behind him.

“Hi.” said Neal.

“Neal. How are you? Listen, I heard about what happened in India. I’m sorry.” said the colonel, his hat clasped under his arm as he noted the clearly distraught Danielson.

“Yeah, it got pretty crazy out there.” said Neal, his mind still racing about the letters.

“Dr. West was a good person, I had known her for several years.” said the colonel.

They both knew that Neal had only met Laurie a few months beforehand, but somehow they also both knew that Neal had grown closer to her in that time than the colonel ever had in much longer.

“Yes.” said Neal, seemingly struggling to stay focused on the conversation.

“Well, Neal,” said the colonel into the awkward silence, “I just wanted to come by and offer my condolences, and to pass on a message from General Pickler.”

“Yes?”

“He says that you should try for that job in Washington, that he has put his name behind yours as well, and that I should help you with completing your PhD in any way I can.”

Neal nodded, obviously brought to attention by this turn, but still mute. After a sigh Colonel Milton staunchly forged ahead once more into the resilient awkwardness, “Of course, as the air force liaison to your university, an institute which relies heavily on the Array’s support, I imagine I will be able to be of very significant help, should you wish it.”

“Wow, yes, err, that would be great.” Neal said finally, realizing he was being offered help, help he sorely needed with getting his extremely rusty thesis past the university board.

Then he looked distracted for a moment, clearly thinking of something else, “Yeah,” he said to the floor, “I’ve been hearing that I should take that job quite a lot recently.”

“Well, that is because it is a very important job, and because the general, and Admiral Hamilton, I believe, have put their considerable weight behind you.”

Neal looked at the colonel, he looked into his eyes. They were brown, dark brown to be sure, but not black by any measure.

“Yes, Colonel,” he said, “it would seem to be a great opportunity. And it would certainly be very … useful.” He looked askance at the colonel to see if the word got a reaction, but was met with a blank, if slightly confused expression. One which soon changed to mild frustration.

“Yes, well, Neal. Like I said, the general wanted me to pass along that message. And I also wanted to give you this, as well.” He handed Neal a slip of paper with an address, date, and time on it just under a week from today.

Neal looked a question at the rigid officer.