The Children of Eternity (8 page)

“Oh well, I suppose it’s better than being raised by wolves,” said Jonathon.

It was about that time that Christopher got it. “Oh, yes…the same boat, as in the same circumstance.”

“Yeah,” said Jerry, looking toward Jonathon, who just nodded in agreement. “But how long have you been here, Jonathon, and how did you get here?”

“The same way you did, I suspect. The demons were guarding all of the gates. I tried several of them. So, when all else failed, I infiltrated the compound in a way only we humans can.”

“You gated in,” deduced Christopher.

“I think I just said that,” confirmed Jonathon. “Actually, I was here in Zion when this whole thing started. I was right across the street, over there at the library, studying ancient Egyptian when it began.”

“Ancient Egyptian?” asked Jerry.

“Yeah,” confirmed Jonathon. “I enjoy studying other languages, ancient languages especially. I’ve learned twenty-three so far.”

“Twenty-three different languages?” exclaimed Jerry.

“Is there an echo in here?” asked Jonathon. “Yes, twenty-three languages. Those include both the angelic and demonic tongues. Under the present situation, that may become useful.

“Anyway, there was a terrible explosion that rocked the entire building. I went running out into the street just in time to see a volley of demon fireballs blow out one entire wall of the Great Hall of Angels. The rubble came crashing to the street hundreds of feet below in a great rumble, then a huge cloud of dust came billowing down the street at high speed…and I ducked into the Great Hall of Records. I mean, it’s one of the best built buildings in all of Zion. I thought I’d be safe there until the battle ended. Anyway, it offered a tremendous view of it all with its huge thick windows. So I just waited.

“At first the angels fought very well. They were converging from all sides on the demons that were attacking the Great Hall. For a time, I thought that they would surely crush this demon raid on the Holy City. But the demons just kept coming. It wasn’t a raid; it was a full-scale invasion. You should have seen it: angels and demons battling in the sky over Zion—hundreds, then thousands, then millions of them. The sky was darkened by their black wings. There were lightning bolts and fireballs flying everywhere. And in the end, the angels were forced to withdraw.”

Jonathon continued, “Hours went by, and the demons just kept streaming out of the Hall of Angels. I figured that they were coming in through their main ring in the Hall of Angels, and here I was only a mile and a half away from ground zero. So I waited and watched.

“The streets were filled with people by now, and some had been injured by falling and flying debris. Well, so much for the demons’ promises that humans wouldn’t be hurt during this conflict. They’re demons, what do you expect?”

“Yeah, we’ve seen firsthand how they keep their word,” said Jerry. “We don’t want their kind around here.”

“I’ll say amen to that one,” said Jonathon. “I’ll tell you, Jerry, they’ve caused real chaos here. I never thought I’d see panic in Heaven, but I don’t know what else to call it. The streets were full of it on that first day. Some people were trying to head for the Holy Place, but some of the fiercest fighting between the angels and the demons was in that direction. Most were turned away and so headed for the gates of the city. Some even decided to violate the rules and gated out right from the city street. That’s when I realized that it could be done.

“I figured that was what I’d do when it was time to leave, but I decided to stay for a while. I decided I’d use the books to get a clearer picture of what was going on. I selected books of friends of mine who lived right here in Zion. I figured that they wouldn’t mind, and it would allow me to see the conflict through their eyes. I saw plenty and learned even more. I stayed in here for hours, going from book to book, seeing this war from all angles, even through the eyes of an angel.

“Then I went to the book of a friend of mine who lives only about a mile away from here. He studied science and math with Johannes Kepler. I mean, this guy is a real brain. While the fighting was going on, he assembled several high tech weapons by just thinking about them. Now, that’s real talent. I can materialize matter too, but I’m here to tell you, I’m not
that
good. Through his book, I found out that the angels had managed to keep the demons off the second level of Heaven and were preparing to launch a counterattack near a place called Ceranda. It’s a hilly region about twenty or so miles south of the city.”

“We heard about that battle,” noted Christopher. “It doesn’t sound like it went too well.”

“That depends on who you ask,” replied Jonathon. “The demons had the angels outnumbered five to one, and the angels had to eventually retreat, but it was a psychological victory nonetheless. It was the first time that the angels and humans stood side by side and took up the fight, and I’m here to tell you they did serious damage to the demon forces. I should know, I was there.

“I jetted out of here in a hurry to help gate the wounded angels to safety on the second level. I personally guided about six hundred angels to safety. They’d have been demon fodder if I hadn’t. After the battle, I caught up to my friend David. He’d actually used that weapon I told you about in the battle. I tell you no lie…it literally disintegrated the demons. He called it a particle rifle.

“Normally an injured demon, like an injured angel, would regenerate. But I’d bet that the demons hit by those particle beams won’t regenerate anytime soon. They were blown into way too many pieces. The inventers of the particle rifle also created a smaller version of it: a particle pistol.”

Jonathon pulled his robe aside to reveal a pistol strapped to his belt. It looked like something straight out of a science fiction story.

“I managed to talk my friend David into making one for me,” said Jonathon. “I’ll tell you this: it sure beats a sword. A demon doesn’t stand a chance against one of these. It more than evens up the odds. I never leave home without it.”

“How does it work?” asked Christopher, examining it more carefully.

“I really don’t know,” admitted Jonathon, “at least not exactly. It somehow harnesses the power of God’s Holy Spirit and creates a beam of high energy particles moving at incredible speeds. That is how David explained it to me. I’m not nearly the science geek he is. But I do know how to use it.”

“So, you came back to the Hall of Records to do more detective work,” deduced Christopher.

“Yeah, I couldn’t see staying home,” replied Jonathon. “I couldn’t just hang around doing nothing. I decided to come here and see what I could find out. I’ve been here for two days. I know exactly what Satan has up his sleeve, and I know what plans the resistance has to oppose him. Would you believe that there is even a resistance movement in Hell? It’s led by this big dark angel called Abaddon.”

“The same Abaddon that rescued Serena,” deduced Christopher.

“Right on,” confirmed Jonathon. “He rescued her mother too, as well as about a thousand other humans in Hell. They’ve built themselves quite a fortress. There is so much here to learn. I just find a thread and follow it wherever it leads. Maybe you could help me. The three of us working together could accomplish so much more than I could alone.”

“But we’re not staying here,” said Jerry. “We’re on our way to the Holy Place to talk to God.” He paused. “Would you like to come with us? It seems to me that you may learn more from the Father than you could following these threads of yours, even with our help. Then, afterward, you could come back here if you felt you needed to.”

Jonathon nodded. “Yes, you have a point there. It’s not that far, and I don’t think it’s nearly so dangerous as it was a few days ago. I haven’t spoken to the Father since this all began. Yes, thank you…I think I will go along.”

The boys made their way to the northeast staircase, a grand marble spiral, one of six, that ran from the ground floor all the way to the highest floor of the magnificent building. They cautiously descended to the ground floor, keeping an eye on the street beyond the huge windows. The streets were empty. To Christopher, that in itself seemed strange. In the eternal daylight world of the City of Zion, the streets were perpetually busy. No vehicular traffic was allowed on these broad streets; they were reserved exclusively for pedestrians. Yes, it took time to get around the city on foot, but who was in a hurry? In a world of true eternities, time was almost meaningless. Anyway, one didn’t become tired. Walking ten miles was as easy as walking one.

Reaching the ground floor, the boys scanned the avenue beyond to confirm that no one was around and headed out the glass door. The wide marble steps that led down to street level were dusty and cluttered with small debris.

Jonathon looked across the avenue to see his favorite library largely in ruin. “The library took several direct fireball hits just minutes after I ran into the street. The destruction of all of those books is a terrible loss.”

“At least you weren’t in there when it happened,” said Christopher.

“True,” replied Jonathon. “I think most everyone got out when the shooting started.”

“Maybe, when this is all over, the Father will replace the books that were lost,” suggested Jerry, scanning the devastation all around them. “It looks like this part of the city got hit pretty hard.” He turned to gaze at the Great Hall of Records. It was a monolithic building that stretched for several city blocks and rose over 120 feet above the street. It was an incongruous mixture of tall Greek columns and marble floors, combined with walls that were largely made of thick glass and shimmering metal. He’d been told that this particular metal was called titanium and that it was very light yet strong. All in all, the building had survived the attack very well. A few of the columns had sustained significant damage, and some of the metal framework was dented and the glass cracked, but otherwise it was intact.

They stepped out into the broad, gold-paved avenue to discover that it was littered with debris, and yes, even traces of blood could be seen here and there. They began the short trek to the Holy Place, ever mindful of their surroundings. The streets were almost deserted. Here and there they spied a shopkeeper cleaning up the mess in and around his or her place of business, or a resident of the city watching them from a window. He took note of one woman restoring a shattered window of her shop with little more than a touch of her hand. Yet it was far from business as usual in Zion.

Business within this city was conducted in a very different manner from that on Earth. For one thing, few of the wares here were built in the conventional sense with physical tools and manual labor. Most of it was the product of imagination and force of will. Works of art were created through thought, and they materialized right before the customers’ eyes. These items were neither sold nor bartered but given freely as between loving brothers and sisters, and to the artisans, the making of these things was a labor of love.

But today there was no commerce in the shops or open-air markets. Indeed, little remained of many of the once-busy establishments. It was a truly sad state of affairs. Would things return to normal? Christopher wanted to believe that they would, but first they would have to rid Heaven of its invaders.

Farther along the avenue they encountered a winged demon standing motionless in the shadows of a partially collapsed building. A wave of apprehension swept through the group. Yet, as they passed, the demon seemed to take no notice of them whatsoever.

“That was creepy,” said Christopher, glancing back toward the demon, who still hadn’t moved. “Didn’t that demon lieutenant we met at the entrance to Zion mention something about thousands of his kind at work clearing the streets between there and the Holy Place?”

Jerry scanned their surroundings. “Yeah, he did. But where are they?”

“That was what I was wondering,” said Christopher. “There is a lot of work to be done, but I don’t see any of them doing it.”

“I was told the same thing when I arrived,” replied Jonathon. “I think they’re stalling, buying time. They’ll probably come up with one excuse after another in the coming days and weeks. They feel threatened by us—that one we just passed did, though he said nothing. They don’t want us meeting with the Father. They can’t have us organizing a rebellion while their forces are spread thin fighting the angels. But I’ll tell you this, my friends: I’m game for a rebellion the first chance I get.”

Christopher pondered Jonathon’s words for a moment. There were a few statements that struck him as odd, though he focused on only one of them. “Why didn’t you join this friend of yours, the one who gave you that gun? I mean, you were involved in the battle at Ceranda. Why not just stick with them?”

“I still may,” replied Jonathon. “I just wanted to get all of the facts before I throw in lots with anyone. I want to be certain that I’m supporting the right people. There are several different resistance organizations out there. They are all well-meaning. Each has a slightly different game plan. Still, the way I see it, some of those plans just aren’t workable. No, I want to throw in lots with the group that has the best chance of success. I want my efforts to count for something.”

“That makes sense to me,” said Jerry, whose eyes constantly scanned his surroundings.

They continued walking, sometimes having to make a detour around large piles of rubble in the streets. It made Christopher sad. He loved this city, much like one may love a close friend. To see it so hurt him deeply.