I Work On A Starship: A Fragment

     Introductory matter for a story I'm working on:

    A lot of people feel it, or dimly suspect it; they know there's something deeply wrong with the world but they can't figure out what it is.  Some people think they know it -- drunks mumble-blurting wild stories about service in a military that doesn't sound like any Movie of the Week while asking for spare change, wild-eyed, talking about events and places that don't show up on any map of Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq, Iraq (again!) or even that Caribbean island nobody remembers?  Those guys, they probably know.  The guy at the flea market, with the rack of smudgily-printed flyers warning of the Roman Occupation Government, giving tips on burying guns in your backyard (do they sprout?), fretting over flying-saucer overlords, commie Russian plots and the dangers of fluoridated vaccinations?  He probably knows and doesn't even realize he knows amid all the other noise.

     Read the whole intro at I Work On A Starship.