The Children of Eternity (7 page)

Christopher turned toward Jerry and took a deep breath. “Demons are creatures of habit and duty. They will expect the older of us to do the talking. That would be you. They would be suspicious, even offended, if I spoke on our behalf.”

“All right,” replied Jerry. “What should I say?”

“Don’t worry what you shall say, for in this very hour the Lord shall tell you what to say,” said Christopher.

“Matthew 10:19,” replied Jerry.

Christopher smiled broadly. “Very nice, Jerry. OK, here we go. Are you ready?”

Jerry definitely looked nervous. “Into the valley of death rode the two.”

Christopher smiled slightly. “Rudyard Kipling would have been proud.”

They boldly advanced toward the archway. All the while the demons watched them carefully. These demons had taken on a visage not unlike the one that had appeared at the church a week ago. Except for their black bat-like wings, they appeared in all manner human. One toward the center advanced in their direction. He had the appearance of a man in his mid-30s, a handsome man at that; stranger still, he wore a pleasant smile.

“Greetings, children of the most high God,” he said. “I am Lieutenant Vigaran of the Seventeenth Cohort, Fifth Legion. I regret that my orders are to allow none to pass on this day. The city beyond these walls is not safe. Even now the streets are being cleared, and routes to the Holy Place are being given priority for those who seek communion with the Father. I assume that is where you are going.”

“You assume right, sir,” said Jerry, in as pleasant and respectful a tone as he could.

“I ask you to be patient with us,” said the lieutenant. “We have over ten thousand of our forces securing the city, making it safe for you. We do not wish to bar you from communing with the Father, but our concern is for your safety.”

“I can understand that,” said Jerry. “Tell me, has the City of God been damaged badly?”

“The damage is extensive,” confirmed the lieutenant. “Should a wall collapse at the wrong time and injure a child of God, I fear that we may be held accountable. We made a promise to the Father that no child of His would come to harm due to our actions. We intend to keep that promise. It is dangerous enough for the inhabitants still within the city. We do not wish to compound that danger by allowing additional people to enter.”

Jerry nodded. “Do you know when we will be able to enter?”

“I do not think it will be much longer,” assured the demon, “a week, perhaps less.”

“I understand,” said Jerry. “We shall return in a week.”

“I do appreciate your understanding,” said the demon, his smile growing. “It is my sincere hope that the children of God will one day come to trust and depend on us. I know that trust will not come easily; but we hope that, in time, we will be able to earn it.”

Jerry smiled as best he could. “I hope so too, really I do.” With those words, Jerry turned and walked away. Christopher followed. “I’m gating out, follow my lead.”

The starry mists materialized before them and they vanished into them. Jerry glanced behind him.

“Are we going home?” asked Christopher, looking over at his friend.

“No,” said Jerry, “not quite.”

A moment later, Christopher felt the cold wind as they materialized on the snowy ridge of a mountain. The cold wind seemed as if it were blowing right through him. He saw a great alpine valley before him. Through its center ran a mighty glacier. He turned around to see the magnificent City of Zion far below and about 20 miles away. The city dominated a high plateau just beyond a forested river valley. The city itself stretched out for nearly 30 miles. From here they could see that all was not well. Smoke still rose above portions of the great metropolis. The heaviest damage was around the Great Hall of the Angels near the center of the city and those parts of the city farthest south, along the route of the angels’ retreat. It hurt Christopher to see the most beautiful city in the universe in such a state.

“I wanted to reconnoiter our situation,” said Jerry. “I probably should have brought us here before. We’re nearly three miles above the city.”

“You’ve been here before?” asked Christopher.

“Yes,” confirmed Jerry. “Actually, the last time I hiked up here from the valley with my dad. It took us a couple of days, but it was worth it. I enjoy high places. I wish we had wings like the angels—flying could be fun.”

Christopher smiled. “So you
do
have goals and dreams beyond fishing throughout eternity.”

Jerry smiled. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Using their heavenly, God-given vision, the boys could see the city in perfect detail. Their sight was eight or ten times that of the clearest vision one may have possessed on Earth. It was not a binocular vision. Objects didn’t look any larger; they were just far clearer.

“Remember the demon telling us that he didn’t wish to allow any additional people into the city?” said Jerry.

“Of course,” confirmed Christopher. “That means that there are people within the city, the residents who decided to stay. I guess the demons didn’t have the authority to make them leave.”

“Bingo,” replied Jerry. “If we were to step out from a building within the city, a library maybe, they may just assume that we had been there all along. They wouldn’t have the authority to make us leave. Now all we need to do is to gate unseen into a building, preferably one close to the Holy Place. Then we could make a beeline to the Holy Place from there.”

“The Hall of Records?” suggested Christopher. “I can see it from here. It doesn’t look like it was damaged. It’s a really big building, one could almost get lost in it. We could gate onto the fifth floor, section J. That place isn’t near any windows. I don’t think anyone would see us. It would be less than a mile to the Holy Place. It’s a great plan. That is, if it’s possible to gate into the city. I’ve never tried.”

“I reckon it’s time to find out,” said Jerry. “Sounds like you know the way…you lead.”

Christopher concentrated and the misty stars appeared before him. He entered, followed closely by Jerry. A few seconds later they stepped into an aisle with books stacked high on crystal shelves on either side. Christopher had been right. Due to the way the tall bookshelves ran in this part of the hall, no one could have seen them enter from any other location.

“Looks like it worked,” said Christopher, looking about to confirm what he already suspected—they were alone. “You’d think that lots of people would come here. After all, this is the place where the events of every human life in the history of Earth are recorded. But they don’t. In fact, I rarely see people here.”

“I can tell you I don’t come here,” confirmed Jerry. “Matter of fact, I’ve only been here once. My mother brought me here to see this many years ago. I don’t think my father has ever been here. He says that the stuff here is best not known.”

“I come here a lot,” said Christopher, raising his hands and turning about to see all of the books. “Each book represents the life of someone who lives or had lived on Earth, even if he or she only lived there a few months. The books are color-coded. If they’re gray, that tells you that person is still alive and on Earth. The white ones are the books of the saints, those of us who are right here in Heaven. And the black books…well…they’re the books of the poor people who didn’t make it here…if you know what I mean.”

“Perfectly,” said Jerry, who was still gazing around to confirm that they were indeed alone.

“All you have to do is open one of these books and turn to a page. The cover tells you whose book it is. You look at the words inside, but you only see them for a few seconds. Then the whole world of this library vanishes, and you are right there watching that person’s life. They can’t see you or hear you, but you can see, hear, and even smell what is going on. It’s sort of like the story
A Christmas Carol
, where Ebenezer Scrooge is traveling with the Ghost of Christmas Past. None of the people Scrooge saw could see him either. The ghost told him that it was because all of the people he saw were merely shadows of things that were.”

“That’s all very nice,” said Jerry, “but how did you know that this one aisle was so secluded?”

“Because I come here often,” said Christopher. He walked over to one particular gray book. He picked it out almost instinctively from the other books around it, many of which were also gray. He caressed its binding. “This is my mother’s book. I come here to get closer to her. I open her book, and I’m with her. She spreads the Gospel wherever she goes, and sometimes I’m there with her.” Christopher hesitated. “You know, sometimes I feel like she actually knows that I’m there.”

Jerry walked toward Christopher. He saw the trace of a tear in his eye.

Christopher gently returned the book to its place. “I’ve been doing this for an awfully long time. One of the angels showed me how. Since then I’ve come here. I visit my father’s book too. It is only a few rows over.”

Jerry placed his hand on Christopher’s shoulder. “Well, now that we know it can be done, what next?”

“I guess we make our way to the Holy Place,” said Christopher. Suddenly the youth went quiet. He placed his finger to his lips. “There’s someone here.”

The two boys made their way across the translucent floor to a corner where they felt they might have more cover. Yes, there was no doubt about it—the sound of footsteps could be heard, and they were drawing closer. The two boys remained totally silent, totally motionless. What now? Should they gate out? No, they held their ground.

A shadow slowly crossed the floor in front of them. They held their breath.

Then a young man dressed in white turned the corner before them. He appeared to be somewhat younger than Jerry, perhaps 17 or so. When they saw him, they both knew his name—Jonathon.

“I thought I was alone here,” said the light-haired youth in a soft voice as he approached the two friends. “It’s OK. I’m a friend, just another child of God. I was just two aisles over doing some research when I saw the glow. I guess you gated in, right?”

“Right,” confirmed Jerry.

“Research?” asked Christopher. “What kind of research?”

Jonathon seemed to have to think about that one. “Well, how can I describe it? I guess you could call it detective work of a sort. I’m trying to learn all that I can about this conflict. There are so many wild rumors flying around that I had to come here and find out what the truth was for myself. And I’m here to tell you that the truth is way stranger than fiction.”

“Are you from the city?” asked Jerry.

“Actually, no,” replied Jonathon. “I live on the third level of Heaven, along with my great-grandmother Gladys and my great-grandfather Bud. We have a mansion that overlooks the sea on one side and beautiful meadows on the other. We even have a tennis court in our backyard where I play tennis with my great-grandfather—that is, when we’re not all going fishing.” There was a pause. Jonathon was looking at Jerry in such an odd way. Then he smiled. “You like to go fishing too, don’t you?”

“Why…yes,” replied Jerry, “but how did you know that?”

Jonathon’s smile widened. “I wasn’t trying to pry. I guess it just takes one fisherman to know another one.”

Jerry smiled slightly. “I guess so.”

Christopher thought about Jonathon’s unusual observation. He knew that there were people in Heaven who had an uncanny ability to read other people—it was almost like telepathy. But most of those people had been here in Heaven for centuries. It wasn’t the sort of gift that you picked up overnight. They were sort of like Yoda, only taller and less wrinkled. “How old are you, Jonathon?”

“Seventeen,” replied Jonathon, “and I lived all of those years, short three minutes, in Heaven. You see, I died at birth. When I first came here, I was taken by the angels to my great-grandmother Gladys. She raised me in the knowledge of the Lord. Later, my great-grandfather Bud arrived to help her. They’ve been wonderful. I love them very much, and they love me. One day, so I’ve been promised, my parents and others of my family will be here with me too.”

“It sounds to me like we’re all very much in the same boat,” said Jerry.

“Boat?” asked Christopher. “What boat is that?”

That comment brought a round of laughter from both Jonathon and Jerry.

“Is he always like that?” asked Jonathon.

“Yeah, pretty much,” confirmed Jerry. “He was raised by angels.”