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Description
“Honey, look at this.” Angelica approached her beckoning husband and peered over his shoulder. The thing he was pointing at was a small balloon of steam floating close to the ground, stemming from a small pile of rocks. “That's Yellowstone Park for you!” she clapped in delight. This trip had been so romantic, just the two of them exploring nature together, in the wild, left to their own devices. “There's all kinds of interesting things to see here. And look, there's more of them.” Now she was pointing, waving her hand excitedly at the row of small steam outlets, stretching out in a straight line to either side of them. “So, what are they Jacob?” she asked and Jacob's chest puffed up just a little bit, preparing to bear the weight of expectation placed on it yet again. He tugged at his eyebrow a little bit, a little gesture that was prone to escaping from him when he was thinking hard “Well, I'd say it's gas escaping from the great pressures underneath at weak points in the ground.”
“How come they're all in a straight line?” The wide eyed innocence waiting for an expert answer from her beloved left little room for doubt as to whether he could deliver the ultimate judgement on this important matter.
“Well, well”, the eyebrow had to suffer a little bit further, “that must be where a fault in the ground lies. You know, like how tectonic plates meet at certain places and they make a line where there's volcanoes and earthquakes.”
“Oh, yes, I see, I see, it makes sense.” Both of them nodded at each other and took out their digital cameras to record the marvellous discovery. It took thirty four individual pictures of each of the steam balloons and about fifty more from different angles before they were satisfied they had done the phenomenon justice and that they could move on to the waterfalls. Which were breathtaking.

***

Stuart turned off the radio in a bad mood. Work was not going well, not that it was his fault, but it would be difficult to convince his boss of that. There were bills to look at, but delaying that seemed like a much better choice than facing the tough decisions that were to come. He poured himself a glass of beer and poured out his rage on the latest thing he had heard.
“Why is everyone going on about this? Do they have nothing better to report on? Is not enough going on in this country that needs to be dealt with that we must constantly discuss various random ongoings suitable only for the tabloids? How is this relevant to me, and to us?” This last addition was in deference to his wife who was meant to be listening to what he was saying so needed to be referred to and drawn in. She was clearing the table after dinner, but it was important that she heard what he said and understood its importance. He was just about to start questioning whether she was, indeed, listening when she said “yes, dear,” and nodded sagely.
He nodded sagely as well, this was a very serious matter. “This is just like throwing dirt in our eyes so we wouldn't think about politicians not doing their jobs and taking all our money. Probably something thought up by rich bankers to draw our attention away from the real problems. Like immigration. We can work our damnedest, give it our all, but what does it matter when someone will just waltz into this country, work for less and get your job? And of course they can work for less, when they can get their houses for free. We have to pay for our house, we have to have a mortgage, don't we?”
“Yes, dear.”
“So you turn on the radio to hear what is being done about all this, what steps are being taken to fix this broken society and what are they talking about? I ask you, what are they talking about on national news? Gas, that's what. They're all full of gas!” He snorted somewhat at this clever comment he had come up with. His wife was now washing the dishes, but still nodding occasionally to his words. “They're all full of gas, I tell you. This gas is not what we should be hearing about. It's not what really matters. I'll tell you what really matters. Jobs for us, the people who have made this country what it is. Everything is so expensive now, because there are so many of us. What we make should be more freely available to us, we made it, not going to anyone who comes here demanding it. So why should I listen to some journalist reporting on gas from the ground, when there's problems all around us? What sense does it make?” Stuart rattled his empty glass a bit and leaned back in his chair. “Why do they call them Floor anyway? Isn't that something you walk on? Walking on gas, that's what this country is doing, and it's not doing us any good.”
“Yes, dear,” his wife said and picked up the glass to wash it.

***

“I wonder why there's thirty four of them? That must be important. The other day, Francine's husband was explaining something about primary numbers and Fibonies and stuff and he had this great theory as to why there's thirty four of them. He was really getting into it, but then Francine didn't seem to be understanding it and I wasn't really either, though it sounded very convincing and he got a bit angry with her. I think because he thought she was doubting him, but I don't think she was she was just not understanding it and I wasn't really either, but it does make you wonder why thirty four.” Call was determined not to be distracted from his crossword tonight and chewed thoughtfully on his pen, while Larissa discussed the issue further with him.
“As for the whispering that everyone hears, well that's just something extra, isn't it? They say you have to hear it to believe it because no electronic recording thing can record it so they cannot play it on radio and TV. They've tried, but all it sounds like is noise and the first time I thought the radio wasn't quite tuned but it was, it was just that noise and I couldn't hear any 'Floor' in it at all, but lots of people have heard it. We need to hear it ourselves Call, and Diana and her husband are going there this weekend so I think we should go with them and hear it for ourselves.” Call's determination seemed to be working that night, as his crossword was almost half filled out and he had no idea what the plans for the weekend were yet.
“We could go together and have a picnic, thought they say it's quite busy there now, because lots of people are going there to see for themselves, but we're not doing anything this weekend so if we have the picnic stuff we can always eat it in the car if there is a long queue or even by the road if it isn't moving much, like at the border to Spain on the holiday we had, remember?” Larissa's questions were often rhetorical, so they no longer roused Call from other tasks he was attending to, which tonight was the crossword which was almost done.
“It's really strange how there is thirty four of them standing in a row and how they're getting bigger and how no matter what the weather is they are always there, like the steam wants to be there or maybe has to be there. And they're growing, I've seen the photos, they compare them and they're growing. Like mushrooms, though they don't look like mushrooms, though that's strange too how they have a shape and they're all the same shape and it's not a shape that steam should be, like the steam when I'm making the tea,t hat doesn't look like it at all. It's like a little miracle, oh and speaking of which would you like some tea?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, I'll put the kettle on, darling,” Call said and smiled at his wife as he put down the completed crossword.

***

“So, you're saying that this is a sign from God?”
“It's difficult to say, but the unusual nature of the situation is remarkably like a miracle, is it not? If you consider what a miracle is, that it is something that cannot be explained by the laws of nature, well so far science has not been able to explain what the thirty four Floor are. They do not behave like steam should behave yet they seem to be made of nothing but steam. They even have shapes, shapes that persist, that have persisted all this time, from their inception to today. We cannot presume what is a miracle and that word is not be used lightly, but we should also not miss one if it happening in front of our very eyes.”
“How will we know whether it is a miracle?”
“That, that will be discussed by the church. Some events are declared as miracles and there is a procedure to go through and this event will be looked at in the same way and it will be decided. It will need to be carefully considered but in the end a miracle is a miracle and will be evident to all.”
“So, how will we know which God has sent this miracle? After all, a number of religions have so far claimed it for its own.”
“Oh, that is not to say that it does not come from the same God, just that people may have different views of what God is and think of Him in different ways. This is completely understandable, there are many different people in the world and faith doesn't come to every person in the same way. If other people understand this event differently then we would welcome them to explore those thoughts and feelings and seek for the truth within themselves.”
“What of this theory floating about that these are souls of people passed away that are slowly coming back to this world? Is this what souls are ultimately meant to look like?”
“That is a very good question and one that his been considered at great length and much has been said on this subject. The true shapes of souls are only know to the Lord, but there are many instances where people and saints have had visions and usually the messengers in these vision have been human or angelic in shape, but to presume that is the only shape they can take is to take something away from their nature.”
“One last question, do you believe that there is any meaning to there being thirty four of them or to the whispered word 'floor' that people seem to hear around them?”
“That seemed to be two questions, heh heh. Certainly, in Psalm 34 David speaks of the path of righteousness that we should follow. We are not to judge who is evil and who is not, as that is not for us, it is for us to try and stay righteous and this is an excellent message for all of us to listen to and follow. “
“Thank you.”

***

Graham did not like how these military types were always expecting not only neat answers, but neat answers that they liked the sound of. The finer details of his work were always lost on them and it didn't help that he couldn't always publish his work in a proper journal where he could properly explain the results, list all the caveats and have his audience actually take them into consideration. General Wilson was not going to take the caveats into consideration, Graham just knew it.
“Like I said, insofar as the tests I have tried go, there is nothing to distinguish this vapour from other vapours of a similar composition. However, that is only to say of similar composition, for, while the samples we get are always of an identical composition, as far the instruments can measure, the samples we prepare are only of the same composition to the degree that can be measured. Any differences beyond that level, that may or may not, account for differences in behaviour cannot be reproduced or fully accounted for.”
“So it's just normal gas, but always the same.”
Graham's breath caught in his throat, this was more difficult than usual somehow. Then, it was a very, very unusual phenomenon and it was a real stroke of luck that it came to him to look at. Surely, some day he would be able to publish his findings and take credit for the detailed exploration of it. “As far as we can measure, the consistency in composition is statistically significant.” He looked at Wilson and added, “It's probably important.”
“And it's not poisonous?”
This was going to be even more difficult for Graham to explain. “There is a certain amount of sulphur dioxide and methane, at concentrations that could be toxic after continual exposure to average subjects and short exposure to sensitive subjects. Dissipation in the air, when physically provoked is rapid and comparable to similar densities of gas. There is also a slight enrichment in helium, but not unusually so for the area that it is found in.”
General Wilson left the scientist to his toys and wondered if he could really write a report on the matter. After talking to the people looking at the physics, chemistry, biology, atomic structure, meteorology and everything else regarding the '34 Floor' it seemed there was nothing to write, yet there was a risk assessment to be done and his superiors wanted it yesterday. He stared at the computer screen blankly, wishing he could just put down what he knew rather than make up things he didn't know. What did he know? It was just normal gas, though always the same gas. The same gas as the rest of the gas in that area. Don't breathe it very much. What was he required to answer? How did it get there? What would it do? Why was it like that? What should they do about it? He sighed and started typing.

***

“This just in. The thirty four people that were attacked by the Floor have all been declared dead at the scene. Despite the valiant efforts of the medical teams that arrived on the scene, as well as the use of helicopters to transport them directly to the regional medical centre, doctors have announced that there was no possibility of resuscitation. They will now have to undergo autopsy to determine the cause of death, though the initial indications seem to be that they suffocated. Witnesses are reported to have seen them behaving as if they had run out of air, clutching at their throats and chests, but the coroner declined to comment before he has completed the autopsy.
The area has been evacuated and cordoned off. It is now being guarded by police and the army is said to be involved in investigations, but no official announcement on results is available. There have been no further sightings of the '34 Floor' though the area is under continual surveillance.
Tomorrow will be declared a day of mourning and a two minute silence will be observed at noon. Letters and messages of condolences have already started arriving at the families of the victims.”

***

“Father, I don't understand. What does this all mean?”
“Go on, tell me what you are thinking about.”
“I keep seeing them. They were right in front of them when it happened. I was trying to catch a better glimpse, a moment longer and I might have tried to push through for a proper look. I was right behind them when the shapes rushed towards them. It was like they melded with the people standing there, it felt wondrous. I think, maybe, for a moment I was jealous. Then they started gasping and... I keep seeing this, I was so close. I could see their eyes bulging, like fish. It was horrible. They took these huge breaths, I could feel them drawing the air in, I was that close. They gasped and gasped and I just stood there. I just stood there! I think they were trying to cough in the end. Or maybe talk. They couldn't though. That could have been me. Why, why was I spared?”
“Does this make you consider how valuable life is?”
“Yes, yes it does! But I can't be grateful, it just means being grateful that someone else took my place. Why did this have to happen at all?”
“Everything happens for a reason. Have you searched for that reason?”
“What if there is no reason? It feels like it just happened randomly without any reason at all. Could there possibly be a reason for it?”
“Having doubts is not a bad thing. Testing your faith is not a bad thing. We may not ever know the full reason or all the reasons for something, but we can find many of them, those that make sense to us.”
“But Father, people thought these were souls or angels being born on Earth! They killed people. Horribly! It could not have been an accident, there was no wind, nothing to move them, but it they rushed towards those people. So they could not have been souls. God would not send vengeful souls back to Earth. He wouldn't. So is there even such a thing as a soul?”
“Would you rather believe that there isn't? That this life is all we can hope for? What of all the people who suffer, is this all they get?”
“No... That would be even more horrible and cruel. It's just that, I can't sleep. I always see them.”
“You can always come here and we can always talk about it. Don't think about what happened to them, they are in a different place now. Think about how this changes your life and what you can do with it now. Don't forget, my doors are always open, as are the Lord's.”

***

If there weren't so many papers on it, you could see that Giles was the proud owner of a beautify polished oak desk. The best patterns of the wood had been used to make this desk and it had a rich, sophisticated feel to it. It fitted well in the room, significant in size but neither dwarfed by the surroundings nor standing out so much so as to be unseemly. It was a really good desk and it coped well with the burdens placed on it. Giles was having a much more trouble coping that day than the desk, though perhaps not as much as some other days when he had to discuss the economy or foreign affairs. The man standing in front of him obviously wanted to be of help and obviously much work had gone into the large document in front of him. Yet, it was just as obvious that this man wasn't quite up to the task of giving him the information he needed in a concise and relevant manner. It must not have been obvious to this man, the way it was taken for granted by Giles, that there were only so many hours in the day and that all important issues came with long documents like the one on the oak table. There was not enough time to read them all.
“So, we don't know what it was or whether it will happen again?” Giles enquired, helpfully.
“There are a number of possible explanations, some of which sound very plausible. They are ranked in the report by how likely they are. It seems likely that it was a natural phenomenon, though the nature of it can be explained in a number of different ways. There isn't really consensus on the most likely way, but a ranking was established based on the weight of the scientists backing the various possibilities.”
“Is it coming back?” Giles pressed the issue again.
“The various explanations come with a variety of probabilities as to the recurrence of the thirt-, I mean event which range from 0.12 to 76 percent, but if you only take the top ten most likely scenarios then the probabilities are 0.45 to 23.4 percent.”
Giles flicked through the report. “Aliens?”
“You will find that option explored on page...” the man craned his neck to read the numbers in front of Giles “...one hundred and twenty two. It is not a likely option, but it is not unlikely either and has several strong arguments, though it would mean that our search for intelligent life will have to be somewhat altered as this one didn't seem to be strictly organic in nature. Though, not to say that we are sure, even if that scenario is correct, that there was any intelligence in the actions of the possible aliens. In fact, a number of factors suggest that if so, this was most likely instinctual behaviour.”
“OK, OK, we can leave the discussions about aliens to the media, they're going to love that one.” Giles shrugged. This wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.
“Basically, we're not sure what happened or why and it probably won't happen again, but we don't know. There's not much to consider, is there? Next on the agenda?”

Description
“Honey, look at this.” Angelica approached her beckoning husband and peered over his shoulder. The thing he was pointing at was a small balloon of steam floating close to the ground, stemming from a small pile of rocks. “That's Yellowstone Park for you!” she clapped in delight. This trip had been so romantic, just the two of them exploring nature together, in the wild, left to their own devices. “There's all kinds of interesting things to see here. And look, there's more of them.” Now she was pointing, waving her hand excitedly at the row of small steam outlets, stretching out in a straight line to either side of them. “So, what are they Jacob?” she asked and Jacob's chest puffed up just a little bit, preparing to bear the weight of expectation placed on it yet again. He tugged at his eyebrow a little bit, a little gesture that was prone to escaping from him when he was thinking hard “Well, I'd say it's gas escaping from the great pressures underneath at weak points in the ground.”
“How come they're all in a straight line?” The wide eyed innocence waiting for an expert answer from her beloved left little room for doubt as to whether he could deliver the ultimate judgement on this important matter.
“Well, well”, the eyebrow had to suffer a little bit further, “that must be where a fault in the ground lies. You know, like how tectonic plates meet at certain places and they make a line where there's volcanoes and earthquakes.”
“Oh, yes, I see, I see, it makes sense.” Both of them nodded at each other and took out their digital cameras to record the marvellous discovery. It took thirty four individual pictures of each of the steam balloons and about fifty more from different angles before they were satisfied they had done the phenomenon justice and that they could move on to the waterfalls. Which were breathtaking.

***

Stuart turned off the radio in a bad mood. Work was not going well, not that it was his fault, but it would be difficult to convince his boss of that. There were bills to look at, but delaying that seemed like a much better choice than facing the tough decisions that were to come. He poured himself a glass of beer and poured out his rage on the latest thing he had heard.
“Why is everyone going on about this? Do they have nothing better to report on? Is not enough going on in this country that needs to be dealt with that we must constantly discuss various random ongoings suitable only for the tabloids? How is this relevant to me, and to us?” This last addition was in deference to his wife who was meant to be listening to what he was saying so needed to be referred to and drawn in. She was clearing the table after dinner, but it was important that she heard what he said and understood its importance. He was just about to start questioning whether she was, indeed, listening when she said “yes, dear,” and nodded sagely.
He nodded sagely as well, this was a very serious matter. “This is just like throwing dirt in our eyes so we wouldn't think about politicians not doing their jobs and taking all our money. Probably something thought up by rich bankers to draw our attention away from the real problems. Like immigration. We can work our damnedest, give it our all, but what does it matter when someone will just waltz into this country, work for less and get your job? And of course they can work for less, when they can get their houses for free. We have to pay for our house, we have to have a mortgage, don't we?”
“Yes, dear.”
“So you turn on the radio to hear what is being done about all this, what steps are being taken to fix this broken society and what are they talking about? I ask you, what are they talking about on national news? Gas, that's what. They're all full of gas!” He snorted somewhat at this clever comment he had come up with. His wife was now washing the dishes, but still nodding occasionally to his words. “They're all full of gas, I tell you. This gas is not what we should be hearing about. It's not what really matters. I'll tell you what really matters. Jobs for us, the people who have made this country what it is. Everything is so expensive now, because there are so many of us. What we make should be more freely available to us, we made it, not going to anyone who comes here demanding it. So why should I listen to some journalist reporting on gas from the ground, when there's problems all around us? What sense does it make?” Stuart rattled his empty glass a bit and leaned back in his chair. “Why do they call them Floor anyway? Isn't that something you walk on? Walking on gas, that's what this country is doing, and it's not doing us any good.”
“Yes, dear,” his wife said and picked up the glass to wash it.

***

“I wonder why there's thirty four of them? That must be important. The other day, Francine's husband was explaining something about primary numbers and Fibonies and stuff and he had this great theory as to why there's thirty four of them. He was really getting into it, but then Francine didn't seem to be understanding it and I wasn't really either, though it sounded very convincing and he got a bit angry with her. I think because he thought she was doubting him, but I don't think she was she was just not understanding it and I wasn't really either, but it does make you wonder why thirty four.” Call was determined not to be distracted from his crossword tonight and chewed thoughtfully on his pen, while Larissa discussed the issue further with him.
“As for the whispering that everyone hears, well that's just something extra, isn't it? They say you have to hear it to believe it because no electronic recording thing can record it so they cannot play it on radio and TV. They've tried, but all it sounds like is noise and the first time I thought the radio wasn't quite tuned but it was, it was just that noise and I couldn't hear any 'Floor' in it at all, but lots of people have heard it. We need to hear it ourselves Call, and Diana and her husband are going there this weekend so I think we should go with them and hear it for ourselves.” Call's determination seemed to be working that night, as his crossword was almost half filled out and he had no idea what the plans for the weekend were yet.
“We could go together and have a picnic, thought they say it's quite busy there now, because lots of people are going there to see for themselves, but we're not doing anything this weekend so if we have the picnic stuff we can always eat it in the car if there is a long queue or even by the road if it isn't moving much, like at the border to Spain on the holiday we had, remember?” Larissa's questions were often rhetorical, so they no longer roused Call from other tasks he was attending to, which tonight was the crossword which was almost done.
“It's really strange how there is thirty four of them standing in a row and how they're getting bigger and how no matter what the weather is they are always there, like the steam wants to be there or maybe has to be there. And they're growing, I've seen the photos, they compare them and they're growing. Like mushrooms, though they don't look like mushrooms, though that's strange too how they have a shape and they're all the same shape and it's not a shape that steam should be, like the steam when I'm making the tea,t hat doesn't look like it at all. It's like a little miracle, oh and speaking of which would you like some tea?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, I'll put the kettle on, darling,” Call said and smiled at his wife as he put down the completed crossword.

***

“So, you're saying that this is a sign from God?”
“It's difficult to say, but the unusual nature of the situation is remarkably like a miracle, is it not? If you consider what a miracle is, that it is something that cannot be explained by the laws of nature, well so far science has not been able to explain what the thirty four Floor are. They do not behave like steam should behave yet they seem to be made of nothing but steam. They even have shapes, shapes that persist, that have persisted all this time, from their inception to today. We cannot presume what is a miracle and that word is not be used lightly, but we should also not miss one if it happening in front of our very eyes.”
“How will we know whether it is a miracle?”
“That, that will be discussed by the church. Some events are declared as miracles and there is a procedure to go through and this event will be looked at in the same way and it will be decided. It will need to be carefully considered but in the end a miracle is a miracle and will be evident to all.”
“So, how will we know which God has sent this miracle? After all, a number of religions have so far claimed it for its own.”
“Oh, that is not to say that it does not come from the same God, just that people may have different views of what God is and think of Him in different ways. This is completely understandable, there are many different people in the world and faith doesn't come to every person in the same way. If other people understand this event differently then we would welcome them to explore those thoughts and feelings and seek for the truth within themselves.”
“What of this theory floating about that these are souls of people passed away that are slowly coming back to this world? Is this what souls are ultimately meant to look like?”
“That is a very good question and one that his been considered at great length and much has been said on this subject. The true shapes of souls are only know to the Lord, but there are many instances where people and saints have had visions and usually the messengers in these vision have been human or angelic in shape, but to presume that is the only shape they can take is to take something away from their nature.”
“One last question, do you believe that there is any meaning to there being thirty four of them or to the whispered word 'floor' that people seem to hear around them?”
“That seemed to be two questions, heh heh. Certainly, in Psalm 34 David speaks of the path of righteousness that we should follow. We are not to judge who is evil and who is not, as that is not for us, it is for us to try and stay righteous and this is an excellent message for all of us to listen to and follow. “
“Thank you.”

***

Graham did not like how these military types were always expecting not only neat answers, but neat answers that they liked the sound of. The finer details of his work were always lost on them and it didn't help that he couldn't always publish his work in a proper journal where he could properly explain the results, list all the caveats and have his audience actually take them into consideration. General Wilson was not going to take the caveats into consideration, Graham just knew it.
“Like I said, insofar as the tests I have tried go, there is nothing to distinguish this vapour from other vapours of a similar composition. However, that is only to say of similar composition, for, while the samples we get are always of an identical composition, as far the instruments can measure, the samples we prepare are only of the same composition to the degree that can be measured. Any differences beyond that level, that may or may not, account for differences in behaviour cannot be reproduced or fully accounted for.”
“So it's just normal gas, but always the same.”
Graham's breath caught in his throat, this was more difficult than usual somehow. Then, it was a very, very unusual phenomenon and it was a real stroke of luck that it came to him to look at. Surely, some day he would be able to publish his findings and take credit for the detailed exploration of it. “As far as we can measure, the consistency in composition is statistically significant.” He looked at Wilson and added, “It's probably important.”
“And it's not poisonous?”
This was going to be even more difficult for Graham to explain. “There is a certain amount of sulphur dioxide and methane, at concentrations that could be toxic after continual exposure to average subjects and short exposure to sensitive subjects. Dissipation in the air, when physically provoked is rapid and comparable to similar densities of gas. There is also a slight enrichment in helium, but not unusually so for the area that it is found in.”
General Wilson left the scientist to his toys and wondered if he could really write a report on the matter. After talking to the people looking at the physics, chemistry, biology, atomic structure, meteorology and everything else regarding the '34 Floor' it seemed there was nothing to write, yet there was a risk assessment to be done and his superiors wanted it yesterday. He stared at the computer screen blankly, wishing he could just put down what he knew rather than make up things he didn't know. What did he know? It was just normal gas, though always the same gas. The same gas as the rest of the gas in that area. Don't breathe it very much. What was he required to answer? How did it get there? What would it do? Why was it like that? What should they do about it? He sighed and started typing.

***

“This just in. The thirty four people that were attacked by the Floor have all been declared dead at the scene. Despite the valiant efforts of the medical teams that arrived on the scene, as well as the use of helicopters to transport them directly to the regional medical centre, doctors have announced that there was no possibility of resuscitation. They will now have to undergo autopsy to determine the cause of death, though the initial indications seem to be that they suffocated. Witnesses are reported to have seen them behaving as if they had run out of air, clutching at their throats and chests, but the coroner declined to comment before he has completed the autopsy.
The area has been evacuated and cordoned off. It is now being guarded by police and the army is said to be involved in investigations, but no official announcement on results is available. There have been no further sightings of the '34 Floor' though the area is under continual surveillance.
Tomorrow will be declared a day of mourning and a two minute silence will be observed at noon. Letters and messages of condolences have already started arriving at the families of the victims.”

***

“Father, I don't understand. What does this all mean?”
“Go on, tell me what you are thinking about.”
“I keep seeing them. They were right in front of them when it happened. I was trying to catch a better glimpse, a moment longer and I might have tried to push through for a proper look. I was right behind them when the shapes rushed towards them. It was like they melded with the people standing there, it felt wondrous. I think, maybe, for a moment I was jealous. Then they started gasping and... I keep seeing this, I was so close. I could see their eyes bulging, like fish. It was horrible. They took these huge breaths, I could feel them drawing the air in, I was that close. They gasped and gasped and I just stood there. I just stood there! I think they were trying to cough in the end. Or maybe talk. They couldn't though. That could have been me. Why, why was I spared?”
“Does this make you consider how valuable life is?”
“Yes, yes it does! But I can't be grateful, it just means being grateful that someone else took my place. Why did this have to happen at all?”
“Everything happens for a reason. Have you searched for that reason?”
“What if there is no reason? It feels like it just happened randomly without any reason at all. Could there possibly be a reason for it?”
“Having doubts is not a bad thing. Testing your faith is not a bad thing. We may not ever know the full reason or all the reasons for something, but we can find many of them, those that make sense to us.”
“But Father, people thought these were souls or angels being born on Earth! They killed people. Horribly! It could not have been an accident, there was no wind, nothing to move them, but it they rushed towards those people. So they could not have been souls. God would not send vengeful souls back to Earth. He wouldn't. So is there even such a thing as a soul?”
“Would you rather believe that there isn't? That this life is all we can hope for? What of all the people who suffer, is this all they get?”
“No... That would be even more horrible and cruel. It's just that, I can't sleep. I always see them.”
“You can always come here and we can always talk about it. Don't think about what happened to them, they are in a different place now. Think about how this changes your life and what you can do with it now. Don't forget, my doors are always open, as are the Lord's.”

***

If there weren't so many papers on it, you could see that Giles was the proud owner of a beautify polished oak desk. The best patterns of the wood had been used to make this desk and it had a rich, sophisticated feel to it. It fitted well in the room, significant in size but neither dwarfed by the surroundings nor standing out so much so as to be unseemly. It was a really good desk and it coped well with the burdens placed on it. Giles was having a much more trouble coping that day than the desk, though perhaps not as much as some other days when he had to discuss the economy or foreign affairs. The man standing in front of him obviously wanted to be of help and obviously much work had gone into the large document in front of him. Yet, it was just as obvious that this man wasn't quite up to the task of giving him the information he needed in a concise and relevant manner. It must not have been obvious to this man, the way it was taken for granted by Giles, that there were only so many hours in the day and that all important issues came with long documents like the one on the oak table. There was not enough time to read them all.
“So, we don't know what it was or whether it will happen again?” Giles enquired, helpfully.
“There are a number of possible explanations, some of which sound very plausible. They are ranked in the report by how likely they are. It seems likely that it was a natural phenomenon, though the nature of it can be explained in a number of different ways. There isn't really consensus on the most likely way, but a ranking was established based on the weight of the scientists backing the various possibilities.”
“Is it coming back?” Giles pressed the issue again.
“The various explanations come with a variety of probabilities as to the recurrence of the thirt-, I mean event which range from 0.12 to 76 percent, but if you only take the top ten most likely scenarios then the probabilities are 0.45 to 23.4 percent.”
Giles flicked through the report. “Aliens?”
“You will find that option explored on page...” the man craned his neck to read the numbers in front of Giles “...one hundred and twenty two. It is not a likely option, but it is not unlikely either and has several strong arguments, though it would mean that our search for intelligent life will have to be somewhat altered as this one didn't seem to be strictly organic in nature. Though, not to say that we are sure, even if that scenario is correct, that there was any intelligence in the actions of the possible aliens. In fact, a number of factors suggest that if so, this was most likely instinctual behaviour.”
“OK, OK, we can leave the discussions about aliens to the media, they're going to love that one.” Giles shrugged. This wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.
“Basically, we're not sure what happened or why and it probably won't happen again, but we don't know. There's not much to consider, is there? Next on the agenda?”