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
“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
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