Hail wasn’t the only storm element to worry about. Fragments of long ago collided planets and man-made satellite crafts showered a myopic world, proving even intelligent design could crumble.

“Martians? Preposterous, if we believed in Martians, there’d be no God; absurd, now get in that laser battery turret and burn hell out of those heretics soldier!” commanded the general still clinging to crumbling political rhetoric.

The monastery’s St. Bernard pulled the frozen pilot out of the wreckage and back from war’s cold clutches of death to the doors of sanctuary and his new life.

“It doesn’t matter where you came from or what brought you here brother, ” the monk assured the airman, “we take no sides here. We are all part of the same grand universe.”

The large dog nuzzled the weakened pilot. Slowly the refugee removed his helmet and revealed his alien origins. The monk’s eyes showed no astonishment, only warm acceptance as he reached out his hand and helped the alien survivor to his feet.