“Because it’s not a simple answer, congressman. The very nature of asking me about extraterrestrials characterizes my work as fringe science. It’s not. Have I personally witnessed an unidentified flying object? The answer is no. Do I believe they exist? Having listened to the sworn testimonies of several hundred high-ranking military officers, jet fighter pilots, and commercial airline pilots—all of whom claim to have seen these E.T. vehicles—I’d have to say yes.

“The military must think they exist, otherwise why spend hundreds of billions of taxpayer dollars building top-secret underground facilities in the southern desert of Nevada. Again, none of this has anything to do with the Vostok power generator, which absolutely works. If it didn’t, why would Peter McLaughlin, the former CEO of General Motors, have offered us a three-billion-dollar contract two years ago to produce Vostoks for a new line of passenger vehicles?”

Congressman Brian Ullom motioned to the chair to respond. “If that’s true, Dr. Wallace, then why did General Motors cancel the deal?”

“They cancelled because the United States Patent Office refused to issue patents for our design. In fact, the patent office has turned down patent requests for over five hundred alternative energy devices, many of which, like the Vostok, would render fossil fuels obsolete. It also doesn’t help our quest to take our company public when members of this very committee threaten to issue a Section 181 order, as per title thirty-five of patent law that allows for military seizure in the event that we ever do receive a patent. You see, Congressman Ullom, the real reason we’re still polluting our air and biosphere with carbon dioxide and why wars continue to rage in the Middle East is not because we lack energy solutions. It’s because the concept of free, clean energy threatens Wall Street and its six-hundred-trillion-dollar derivatives and commodities market. That’s who your subcommittee should be protecting the American public from, not us.”

Three hours later, Susan and I walked out to a late October afternoon and were greeted by a brisk wind and a wild crescendo of cheers. A sea of humanity spread out before the entrance of the Rayburn House Office Building, covering Independence Avenue all the way to Union Station and beyond. A million strong, maybe twice that, based on a quick glimpse down the mall. Thousands bore handheld signs expressing Thank You, Dr. Wallace and Free Us from Big Oil and Save the Planet a hundred different ways.

It was as gratifying as it was frightening. I was completely at the mercy of the crowd and every wacko with a gun.