That’s when life began to change. He was reassigned to another, lesser job. Soon, he found that people were reluctant to associate with him. Still he persisted. He knew if only the right person would listen to him the mistake would be rectified. And that’s when he was enlightened, and as he stated it in biblical terms, He put away childish things.

Parker was invited to the top floor—the Citadel, the Holy of Holies, if you will—of company headquarters, for an interview with one of the senior vice presidents of the firm. The man he met was cordial—even polite—but in very few words he made it perfectly clear to Parker that if he wished to continue with the company—or, for that matter, with any other American defense firm—he would immediately and completely shut up.

The man went on to tell Parker how the business really works: that contracts are always underbid, with the certain knowledge that once work is under way it is an easy matter to pump more money out of the military. And it was also ludicrous to deliver a perfectly functional system, when one with minor glitches would ensure years and years of additional funding to polish up those little problems. Properly managed, a single program could last a man his entire career.

Parker pointed out that the problems he had enumerated were anything but minor. The vehicles, supposedly providing protection against all classes of small arms, and most battlefield antitank rockets, would light up like roman candles if hit by even medium-caliber weapons.

The vice president replied that it was a matter of opinion, a personal one, and a wrong one at that. Parker’s response was that they would see about that. When he rose to go, the VP delivered a clear and unmistakable warning. Repeat your unfounded and un-American slanders and find yourself in a difficult legal position. Or, be quiet, like a good and loyal worker, and find yourself rewarded. It was Parker’s choice to make.

So Parker chose. He tendered his resignation. Still believing in Santa Claus, he sent his findings to his congressman. The response was an injunction forbidding him to speak publicly of any matters pertaining whatsoever to his former employer. Next day the FBI came to his home with a warrant authorizing a search for classified defense materials. They found none, but to console themselves in their failure, they did manage to trash Parker’s house and confiscate his computer.