What do you do, when the world stops making sense? Where do go, when you don't know your direction? Such questions divide those who rise to challenges from those who fall under history's unending tread.

Earth

2113

Richard knelt by his bed, hands folded. The news of intelligent life outside of humanity had been … earthshattering. To say the least.

Newspapers lay scattered around his room, folded to various headlines.

"Aliens Watching Earth?" Dominated the beginnings of one headline.

"Humanity No Longer Alone!" Ruled another headline.

A smaller paper lay next to him, by his knees. It was dog-eared, creased with many folds. Much smaller print than the attention-grabbing headlines spelled out a new title, circled with ink and question marks. It wasn't written in a particularly strenuous fashion even. It still held deep implications.

"Intelligent Life = No Creator?"

The ramifications for religions worldwide had been obvious. Half of the African continent alone had erupted in riots. Exactly what the riots were attempting to accomplish was up for debate, but he knew the cause was easy to find. The protestors in Egypt had been carrying signs with catchphrases like, "Lies from the Skies!" and "Praise Allah, Curse the West!"

Richard clenched his fingers, turning the knuckles white. What is happening? All I knew … gone. If I can't believe my faith … what is there to trust?

He shifted position, trying to understand. Cold sweat stained his collar … he hadn't changed since coming home from the Pentagon. The entire staff had been working unpaid overtime ever since the discovery had broken out. There had been no time for personal thoughts; existential crises had been put on hold. At least, as so far as people had been able.

"Daddy?" a small voice called from the entrance of the dark room.

Richard sighed and rose to his feet. Joints popped as he eased his way towards the door. I should get back into my routine, he gave a resigned thought. Not like there's anything else out there for me to do.

His daughter was perceptive though. "What's wrong, daddy?" she asked.

Richard smiled down at her. Stooping, he scooped her into his arms, giving her the little toss that made her giggle every time. "Nothing, Annie. Just some grown-up things you don't need to worry about." He gently mussed her hair, supporting her weight with one arm.

"Oh," Annie shrugged away the question. "Then can I ask you something?"

"Sure pumpkin," Richard walked slowly into the hallway. "Is it a big question or a small one?"

Annie scrunched up her face, thinking. "It's a big question," she finally decided.

"Oh …" Richard took longer steps, speeding up without jostling his precious cargo. "Then why don't we take this to my study where we won't be interrupted?"

"Okay daddy." Annie smiled up at him with the same heart-warming grin she'd always had. When she'd been born seven years earlier, he'd been glad his heart had already been claimed by her mother. Otherwise, he'd have lost it all over again.

His study was a contrast of leather and sober woods. He'd been a military man for over ten years, a career man like his father before him. Beside the door, his fathers' medals hung on the wall right next to his grandfathers. Similar displays graced the wall, going back to the ancestors whom had fought in World War II, and before.

Richard set his daughter on "her" chair, a miniature wooden rocking chair his father-in-law had made. She had insisted it be brought into his study so she had somewhere to sit when she "worked."

He swiveled his own office chair to face her, and let it sink to the lowest point before sitting. He didn't bother kneeling; children were smart, they knew when grownups were talking down to them.

"What's your question?" he asked, his tone becoming a fatherly serious.

"At school today, some of the other girls said that God couldn't exist because they found some old buildings on Mars. They can't be right, can they daddy?"

Father, why did she have to ask that particular question? Richard prayed silently. Then he caught himself … praying … to Someone whom I am doubting exists now? Is this … Logical? He took a few seconds to consider. Faith versus Logic … you do not need to surrender your mind because you Believe. But if logic disproves my faith, need I abandon it?

He slowly nodded to himself. If logic dictates that a belief is unreasonable, than there is no logic in keeping that faith … God forgive me.

"Well, let's play Asking Questions," he hated himself for changing the venue, but couldn't see much of an alternative. Years before, when Laura had become pregnant for the first time, they had promised to always treat their children's questions seriously.

Annie brightened, showing the gap where she'd lost her first tooth. "Okay, ask me! Ask me!"

Richard sighed, making sure his daughter couldn't see it, Good Lord, now what do I do … maybe … I can ask her questions … for me? A verse floated to the front of his mind. Something about "From the lips of children …."

He smiled and began. "Very well Ms. Williams, what is the focus of the question your friends have been asking?"

She frowned, furrowing her brow. "That people discovered buildings on Mars?" Richard waited, watching her puzzle through the problem. She looked down again, thinking. "That … that buildings prove God doesn't exist?"

He smiled sadly, "That would be one point of the question. But that's an odd question, can buildings stop an omnipotent Being?"

Annie giggled, "Of course not!"

Smart girl, Richard thought, most children her age would still be wondering about what "omnipotent" actually meant. "Then why would people think buildings disprove the existence of God?"

She looked puzzled on that one. To be fair, it was a bit of a logical side-step, but it was important that she understood an effort had to be made.

"Um, I don't know …." She finally admitted.

"It's because we've always defined God as being for mankind," he explained, "so long as we were the only people in the universe, we were special. When we were special, we had to have a special beginning. When we discover more people, we have to face the possibility that they exist outside of God's will, which means we were wrong." Over two thousand years of being wrong, he silently added.

Annie frowned, "But that's silly! If there are other people out there, why couldn't they be special too?"

Richard relaxed his shoulders, they'd gotten tense. "Because they weren't made by God, sweetie. They came from somewhere else."

His daughter got a stubborn glint in her eye, "But that's what you said wasn't good thinking. If God didn't make them, who did?"

He sighed, almost holding his head, "Possibly, no one."

Annie snorted, a very un-ladylike action they'd been trying to wean her off of. "Everything starts, daddy. You told me yourself. Maybe God made them a long time ago, and didn't tell us? "

Richard considered the idea. Couched in those terms, it did seem less ridiculous … "Tell you what, sweetie, how about I read about it and get back to you on it?"

She nodded, smiling, and bounced out the door, leaving the rocking chair to slowly stop on its own. He watched the chair settle for a long moment. That, in and of itself is a lesson, I suppose. But what is the answer?

Richard turned to his desk, pouring over a copy of Strongs' Concordance. It had always been a great help in time of trouble. He'd never studied Greek or Aramaic, and Hebrew baffled him almost as much as programming the AutoChef. Since he didn't know the language, he had to trust those who did, and check their references for something applicable.

The pages flew under his fingers, first by subject, then by alphabet. Nothing had been written under "worlds," or "stars," at least, nothing in the context for which he'd been searching.

"Aliens" showed up a few times, usually referring to guests in the homes of the Children of Israel. Good to keep in mind, should we encounter any living aliens, but still not what I'm looking for …. he thought.

He turned to another section, searching for terms referencing groups. Crowds, gatherings, Pentecost … then, something popped out at him. Luke 2, verse 10 … tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

He froze, all people. Not "all mankind," or "for humanity" … what's the original greek text? Richard thought for a moment, then grabbed his concordance again. Differs from "demos" which means "one's own people" therefore meaning … peoples. Indiscriminate.

The chair creaked under his weight, So no limiting agent is placed on this … any people are considered potential recipients of the Good News. I have to make some calls, he quickly grabbed the phone and started dialing his pastor … then stopped. No, first, I need to find my daughter. And thank her.

He bolted out of his chair, feeling as if the entire world had just slipped off his shoulders. If that daughter of his was still in the house, he was going to make her the best cake he'd ever made!

A/N: Okay, this was not originally part of what I was writing, but I received a few reviews requesting a bit more depth to this particular segment of history. In particular, Aeternix was highly articulate. I will be adding a few more chapters as time allows. It's thrown off my schedule a little, but I think it's worth it.

Questions or comments? Leave a review or PM me. I respond to both, although I'm a little slow sometimes. Thanks for reading!