Had they penetrated the nation’s border and reached him in the White House? Did all those poor soldiers, advisors, and diplomats see this same darkness before their hearts stopped? A burst of light assaulted Kennedy’s eyes and he pinched them shut. 

Slowly he pried his eyelids apart, anticipating the sight of his office after an unexpected power outage. But it had gone black outside, too. Like an actor in a stage play, the president found himself under a powerful spotlight. A sensation he was no longer alone froze him in place and the hushed sound of steady breaths confirmed his fear.


“Teddy, that you? Bob?” No one replied. “Jackie, sweetheart, you there?”


“Greetings John Fitzgerald Kennedy, thirty-fifth president of the United States of America.”


The masculine voice carried a stern but almost friendly tone. It could have been any world leader presenting their position while trying to seem approachable. 


“Who’s there? I can’t see you.”


The visitor stepped forward and the light spilled over the outline of an otherworldly form, the stuff of old horror movies. Stiff as a statue, Kennedy’s body refused his mind’s pleading to flee, to step back and cower under his desk while shouting for the secret service. The man or creature standing before him had two legs and two arms, and a dark gray uniform like a military officer would wear. Nothing else about him looked… human.


It raised a claw-like hand on the end of a thin jet-black arm and looked with two huge yellow eyes at the president. The closest comparison he could make was to a fly’s head. In a fleeting thought, Kennedy wished he hadn’t mentioned not being able to see the intruder. He yelled for the secret service men just outside his door.


“No one can hear us in here, I assure you.”


“My door isn’t that thick.” Kennedy looked expectantly in the direction of the door hidden under the veil of dense darkness surrounding their spotlighted space in the center of the room. “I don’t know how you got in here, but you’re about to be in a heap of trouble.”


“It would take a long time to explain, and you would still not understand. You are no longer in your office, not in the same physical realm humans know and inhabit.”


“Is this some kind of a bad joke?” If a costume, it looked more convincing than anything from Hollywood.


“My people do not joke. We have physical form but have learned to transcend the limits of three dimensions and the constraints of linear time.”


“Are you responsible for the murder of all those American soldiers?”


“That is unfortunate. We are acting for our preservation, much the way you use your nation's military forces.”


Kennedy pursed his lips and cocked his head to that simplified understanding of U.S. foreign policy and its military. “And you came here to kill me.”


“Again, most unfortunate.”


“Before you do, I think you owe me an explanation. How does killing me, and so many brave Americans, help preserve your… people?”


“I have come here with a translation device for the purpose of explanation. You will lead your people on the crucial first steps to the stars, Mister President. Your moon landing on July 20, 1969, sparked a worldwide fervor for space exploration.”


“I hate to break it to you, fella, it's 1963 and I just reviewed those plans. We’re a long way off from getting men to the moon. As I told the world, it’s hard.”


“I have already imparted knowledge of our ability to see time outside of linear limitations.” Kennedy detected a sarcastic bite in the words. “We have observed what comes before and after what you consider as ‘now’. You approve a project for a lunar base that discovers our presence on the dark side of your moon too early in your species’ timeline.” Its eyes made what looked like two rapid vertical blinks. “This leads to a war between your people and mine. While we are technologically more advanced, we are not a military power and are destroyed.”


After a contemplative pause, Kennedy said, “If you can see the future as you claim, can’t you change it, hide from us and prevent this war?”


“We see several versions of what you consider the future. Think of time as a stream or river. It flows in a linear pattern yet happens all at once. Every variation of its current path leads to our destruction. And in this coming war, billions of humans will die, and your planet will suffer from a nuclear fallout making life for the surviving population arduous.”


“And somehow killing me will prevent this?”


“In every outcome we see without you as president, the space program pauses, and the moon base is never created. This allows our presence to be revealed to humankind when and as it should be, when humanity is ready. This will lead to a peaceful introduction and mutual benefit to both our worlds.”


“I can resign, spend time with my family, and stay out of the picture.”


“We only see one future where interplanetary warfare is avoided and peaceful integration is established.”


“With me dead.” It amazed Kennedy how he began to see logic in this utterly unbelievable conversation. 


“I am truly sorry.”


“Then why kill all those soldiers and advisors, and the folks at NASA?”


“We needed to ensure complete prevention of the space program that is supposed to be stalled by President Richard Nixon.” That rounded Kennedy’s eyes. “That only happens as it should if you do not live past November 22 of this year on your earth calendar.”


“Dallas! I was nearly killed last week in Texas. You’re saying that was supposed to happen, and by surviving I somehow cause an interstellar war of the worlds?”


“This is inevitable. Now, I am afraid, I must correct that breech.” He raised his other hand, holding a small silver square device. “Do not worry, as with the others, it is painless.”


“Wait,” Kennedy shouted. “If you are free of the limits of linear time, as you said, you can go back to Dallas, kill me there. Will that undue the tens of thousands of deaths that happened in these last few days… and prevent this dreadful version of our future?”


The fly-headed being paused uncomfortably long and nodded several times as if in conversation.