Fallen Masters Read Free

the room on its brilliant surface.
    “But we do not represent all the faiths of this world. We cannot be universal, by our very nature. Therefore, how can we speak for any who are not represented here? There must be millions of them…,” stated the imam, a world-renowned Muslim scholar from Alexandria, Egypt. He spoke the words aloud, but each of the men at the table—and all were men—held the same thought in his mind.
    “Of course, we can only do our best, both in the name of those of our own faiths and for all the people of the world. That is what we are called to do,” the chief rabbi of Jerusalem responded.
    The Sikh leader, a tall man in a somber gray suit with a starched white turban, smiled sadly and said, “All gods are subject to mankind’s ways, whether they care to be or not. That is, when we choose the path of evil over the path of good and betray the soul for base purposes, not only do we ourselves suffer, but so does the force for all good in the universe.”
    “Let us be faithful, then, to our beliefs and in one another,” the pope said. “And let us convoke this urgent meeting with prayer. I ask that each leader present offer a prayer of his choosing, in the words of his faith, to move our minds and stir our hearts with purpose in this hour. For we each have been given signs, regardless of our beliefs, and these signs point to a coming event that threatens the future of man. We may not be able to avoid this fate, but we must strive to help all of mankind face this crisis.”
    *   *   *
    Outside Rome, in the Italian countryside, farmers awoke that day to discover that a large meteorite had fallen to earth and scorched their land. Livestock lay dead throughout a several-square-kilometer area, and crops, mostly barley and corn, were ruined. Their lives were ruined, as well, with the loss of half a year’s income and the need to replenish the dead livestock that would have provided milk and meat for hundreds of families in the region.
    The event made the local newspapers and television news but got little mention beyond that.

CHAPTER
    3
    Marcus Jackson was a very popular President of the United States. As an African American who had faced cultural and political obstacles all his life with quiet determination and a solid core of honorable ethics, he worked tirelessly toward his goals, and those traits helped him to achieve the nation’s highest office. Married to a Vietnamese woman who was a naturalized citizen, this power couple was a poster for tolerance and social cohesion. It didn’t hurt that their fifteen-year-old son was a charming and intelligent young man who seemed to be cut from the same cloth as his father. While his parents worked hard at shielding their son from the world and its evils, his sunny personality had shone through and he succeeded in winning the hearts of the most recalcitrant. Not since the Kennedys had a presidential family been so embraced by all Americans.
    POTUS, as he was called now (because he had spent twenty years in the military and felt most comfortable with this nickname), stared at a large flat-paneled television screen displaying the huge devastation caused by a massive earthquake in Turkey. Deep in his heart he knew that this would be yet another crisis for his office to deal with. Although he was given the immediate reports of the quake from his State Department personnel, he wanted to see how the media were covering the cataclysmic event.
    “The unusual thing about the earthquake is the area that it has affected,” the announcer was saying. The scope of the earthquake was unprecedented. It had covered almost 200,000 square miles, or roughly two-thirds the total area of Turkey. Equally alarming was the strength of the earthquake, which at 9.5 on the Richter scale, matched the Chilean earthquake in May of 1960, one of the most severe in history.
    “We, of course, have no way of determining yet the extent of casualties from the earthquake, but