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〃You know best；〃 the President said agreeably。 He approached the ball； flexed his hands on the club； arched into a back swing； and brought the head down gracefully but entered into a rather awkward follow…through。 The ball sailed straight over the fairway and landed a considerable distance beyond the green。
A perplexed expression spread across the President's face as he retrieved his tee and climbed in the seat of the electric cart。 〃That's the first time I've ever see you call the wrong club。〃
The caddy did not reply。 He pressed the battery pedal and steered the cart toward the tenth green。 About halfway down the fairway he reached over and placed a small package on the dashboard shelf directly in front of the President。
〃Bringing along a snack in case you get hungry？〃 asked the President good…naturedly。
〃No； sir； it's a bomb。〃
The President's eyebrows pinched a fraction in irritation。 〃Not a funny joke； Reggie〃
His words suddenly choked off as the straw hat rose and he found himself staring into the indigo…blue eyes of a total stranger。
〃Please keep your arms in their present position；〃 said the stranger conversationally。 〃I am aware of the hand signal you were advised to give your Secret Service people if you thought your life was endangered。〃
The President sat like a dead tree； disbelieving； more curious than afraid。 He couldn't trust himself to speak at first； to assemble the right words。 His eyes remained locked on the package。
〃A stupid act；〃 he said finally。 〃You won't live to enjoy it。〃
〃This is not an assassination。 You will not be harmed if you follow my instructions。 Do you accept that？〃
〃You've got guts； mister。〃
The stranger ignored the remark and kept talking in the tone of a schoolteacher reciting class rules of conduct。 〃The bomb is a fragmentation type that will shred any flesh and bone within twenty yards。 If you attempt to alert your bodyguards I will detonate it with an electronic control strapped to my wrist。 Please continue your golf game as if nothing is out of the ordinary〃
He stopped the cart several feet from the ball； stepped to the grass； and glanced warily at the Secret Service agents； satisfying himself that they appeared more intent on scanning the woods around the course。 Then he reached in the bag and pulled out a six iron。
〃It's obvious you don't know crap about golf；〃 said the President； mildly pleased at gaining a small measure of control。 〃This calls for a chip shot。 Hand me a nine iron。〃
The intruder obliged and stood by while the President chipped onto the green and putted into the cup。 When they set off for the next tee； he studied the man seated beside him。
The few strands of gray hair that strayed beneath the straw hat and the lines bordering the eyes revealed an age in the late fifties。 The body was slender； almost frail； the hips slim； a good match for Reggie Salazar except this man was a good three inches taller。 The facial features were narrow and vaguely Scandinavian。 The voice was educated； the cool manner and the squared shoulders suggested someone who was used to authority； yet there was no hint of viciousness or evil。
〃I get the crazy impression；〃 said the President calmly； 〃that you staged this intrusion to make a point。〃
〃Not so crazy。 You're very astute。 But I would expect no less from a man with your power。〃
〃Who the hell are you？〃
〃For the sake of conversation call me Joe。 And I'll save you asking what this is all about as soon as we reach the tee。 There is a restroom there。〃 He paused and removed a folder from inside his shirt； sliding it across the seat to the President。 〃Enter and quickly scan the contents。 Take no more than eight minutes。 Linger beyond that time and you might arouse the suspicions of your bodyguards。 I needn't describe the consequences。〃
The electric cart slowly eased to a halt。 Without a word the President entered the restroom； sat down on the john； and began reading。 Precisely eight minutes later he came out； his face a mask of confusion。
〃What kind of insane trick have you hatched？〃
〃No trick。〃
〃I don't understand why you went to such elaborate lengths to force me to read ic…book science fiction。〃
〃Not fiction。〃
〃Then it has to be some sort of con job。〃
〃The Jersey Colony exists；〃 said Joe patiently。
〃Yes； and so does Atlantis。〃
Joe smiled wryly。 〃You've just been inducted into a very exclusive club。 You're only the second President ever to be briefed on the project。 Now I suggest you tee off and I'll flesh out the picture as you continue playing around the course。 It won't be a plete picture because there is too little time。 Also； some details are not necessary for you to know。〃
〃First； one question。 You owe me that。〃
〃All right。〃
〃Reggie Salazar？〃
〃Sleeping soundly in the caddy shack。〃
〃God help you if you're lying。〃
〃Which club？〃 Joe asked blithely。
〃A short hole。 Give me a four iron。〃
The President swung mechanically； but the ball flew straight and true； landing and rolling to within ten feet of the cup。 He tossed the club at Joe and sat heavily in the cart； waiting。
〃Well； then。 。 。〃 Joe began as he accelerated toward the green。 〃In 1963； only two months before his death； President Kennedy met with a group of nine men at his home in Hyannis Port who proposed a highly secret leapfrog project to be developed behind the scenes of the fledgling man…in…space program。 They were an ‘inner core' of brilliant young scientists； corporate businessmen； engineers； and politicians who had achieved extraordinary success in their respective fields。 Kennedy bought their idea and went so far as to launch a government agency that acted as a front to siphon federal tax money for what was to be code…named Jersey Colony。 The pot was also sweetened by the businessmen； who set up a fund to match the government dollar for dollar。 Research facilities were created in existing buildings； usually old warehouses； scattered around the country。 Millions were saved in start…up costs； while eliminating questions by the curious over new construction of one vast development center。〃
〃How was the operation kept secret？〃 the President asked。 〃Surely there were leaks。〃
Joe shrugged。 〃A simple technique。 The research teams had their own pet projects。 Each worked at a different location。 The old act of one hand not knowing what the other was doing。 The hardware was farmed out to small manufacturers。 It was that elementary。 The difficult part was coordinating the efforts under NASA's nose without letting their people know what was going on。 So phony military officers were moved into the space centers at Cape Canaveral and
Houston； also one at the Pentagon to backstop any embarrassing probes。〃
〃Are you saying the Defense Department knows nothing of this？〃
Joe smiled。 〃The easiest part。 One member of the ‘inner core' was a high…ranking staff officer； whose name is of no importance to you。 He had no problem burying another military mission in the labyrinth of the Pentagon。〃
Joe paused as they pulled up beside the ball。 T