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his desk and was sitting on one of the two facing wheat-colored sofas separated by a cherrywood table. A huge presidential seal was the centerpiece of the oval carpet. Ollie McKenzie, the President’s science adviser and Dr. Jason Chang were sitting on the sofa across from him. He finished reading the report the two men had given him.
    “I tried to put it in as plain a language as I could, Mr. President,” Chang said. “I wanted you to be able to get through all the scientific jargon so you would understand it.”
    “Oh, I understand it, all right,” POTUS said. “What you are saying here is that there is a possibility that this mysterious dark force, whatever it is, is going to intersect with Earth within a matter of days? Weeks?”
    “We think less than a month. We can’t be certain.”
    “Why can’t you be certain? Isn’t it a matter of speed and distance? I am reminded of the old mathematical problem: ‘How long does it take a train doing fifty miles an hour to go from point A to point B if they are one hundred fifty miles apart?’”
    “It isn’t that simple. This dark matter is not moving in any clearly defined direction or velocity,” Chang said.
    POTUS put the folder down then held his hands together in an almost prayerlike manner. “Are you aware, Dr. Chang, that there is a gathering of the world’s religious leaders to discuss this?”
    “I’m sorry, we have tried to be very careful about letting any of this information out, in order to prevent any kind of world panic.”
    “Do you remember when you first contacted me about this?”
    “Yes, Mr. President.”
    “How long before that initial contact had you been aware of this”—he made a motion toward the manila folder—“dark matter?”
    “Only a couple of days.”
    “Would it surprise you to know that the religious leaders have been dealing with this thing for at least six months?”
    “How could they? I’ve checked all our tracking—this had not even manifested itself six months ago.”
    “And yet, more than one religious figure—and from more than one religion, I might add—were aware of this as far back as six months ago.”
    “I don’t know how to respond to that, Mr. President.”
    “Nor do I,” POTUS said. “All right, I’ll ask you again: What do you need? What can the government do?”
    “I’m afraid, Mr. President, that I just have the problem. I don’t have a solution.”
    “If you have a solution, or even a request that might help you find a solution, call me.”
    “Yes, Mr. President.”
    “In the meantime, I will do what my religious adviser has suggested that I do. I will pray.”
    “That can’t hurt,” Chang said.
    As Chang left the Oval Office, President Jackson reflected on the previous conversation. He was faced with a situation that no president, king, or emperor before him had ever faced. He was being told by scientists and religious leaders alike that there was a possibility that all humankind could be destroyed by some mysterious black cloud from outer space.
    “Just my luck,” POTUS stated quietly in an attempt at dark humor. “I get elected president and the world comes to an end.”
    He thought: This is where Superman or Doctor Who would descend and save the planet—as well they should! But what human power could save the Earth from such a destructive force? It would take every ounce of spiritual strength he—and every man and woman—possessed to find a solution. If one were to be found at all.
    God help us, every one, he prayed silently and intensely.

CHAPTER
    9
    Houston
    The director of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration had convened a meeting of the International Scientific Council in Houston, bringing together the leading scientists and those in positions of power from every continent on earth to focus on the emergence of scientific evidence of a strange dark energy that threatened the planet. After opening the meeting he turned it over to Dr. Jason Chang, who had