Chapter 27 The Vision of the New City
At eleven that morning Reason was awakened by her husband.
“Honey, that Lt. Justice is here to see you. Says it’s important.”
She did not answer Truth at first. Was this how it would be from now on? Constant demands? Terrible stress? Not enough sleep?
“He wants you to go downtown with him,” Truth said. “Something about the new plans for the City.”
“I thought that was all over with,” she growled from the bed. “He was recalled to his ship. They were supposed to sail.”
“Better ask him about it, baby.”
She dressed slowly and went down to see the boyish officer, who she found eating an early lunch with Goodness and a few other members of the Orchard family.
“What is it?” she said to him curtly. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that Ambassador Grace has something he wants Dignity and me to do for him tomorrow. I don’t really feel like any duties today.”
“I understand, ma’am,” he said, standing up and brushing sandwich crumbs from his uniform front. “But if you’ll just come downtown with me, we have a little problem with one of the new monuments, something that Ambassador Grace said you could solve.”
“New monuments? Aren’t those New City plans scrapped? I thought the King had given up on us.”
“No, ma’am. I got new orders this morning. The invasion is back on code green due to some operational work done by the HIA.”
“Ha-ha, that means work done by you, Aunt Reason,” said Goodness. “Grace told me all about it and—wow! What a night! Justy really needs your help,” she added, “or he’s going to be in trouble with his superior officer. And anyway Grace was just here and asked me to tell you that the next mission is still set for tomorrow, Good Friday, but that you don’t have to do anything. He knows you’ve had it tough, and he’s taking you off the assignment.”
“You mean the mission is cancelled?”
“No, he didn’t say that, but apparently it’s something Dignity will do by himself.”
Reason tried not to remember that there was practically nothing that her cousin could accomplish unsupervised.
“What I have for you today should be fun,” Justice said.
“All right, then, let’s go and get it over with. I’ll just grab a muffin to eat on the way.”
So munching her muffin, Reason was carried away in the passenger seat of a huge, white military vehicle, the sort that the Heavenite armed forces liked to flaunt on the streets of the City, daring the town’s police to try to pull them over. Soon rain began to fall hard and Justice turned on the wipers. He began to tell her that Heavenite planning had entered a new stage in which mere scale models, even holograms, of the projected New City were not considered adequate.
“We’ve put streaming, life-size Vision technology on line,” he said enthusiastically. “This makes us able to walk through the projected Vision with a 360 orientation and make deletions and changes. The portable projection unit is in the back of this vehicle and ready for use. It’s awesome. You should really enjoy this.”
He flipped a switch on the dashboard.
“I’m not even asking for a translation of your techno-babble, Lieutenant,” Reason said. “Let’s just do whatever you brought me to do.”
Through the rain streaming down the side window, she saw that they were passing a lot of trees, an oddly large number, as if the residential neighborhood had given way to forest. But there was no such forest, she knew, in this area. She peered forward past the flapping wipers and saw nothing but smooth, well paved road ahead with woods on both sides. Almost as startling as the trees was that the road curved where it should have been straight and that it was not seamed and spotted with cheap repairs.
“Which way did we go when we left the house?” she asked Justice. “I thought we were headed north.”
He tapped the compass readout on the dash. “Yes, we started straight north, ma’am, but now we’re angling northeast. Founder’s Grove is away off to our left somewhere. It’s hard to know where it is anymore, because it blends in with all these other trees. We’ll be entering the downtown soon. If you’re disoriented, don’t worry. It’s just the Vision tech.”
“Maybe—maybe you should repeat the techno-babble more slowly, Lieutenant. I’m sorry, but this is getting alarming. We don’t seem to be in the City anymore. Where are we?”
“We’re in the City,” he said laughing. “See there’s Lawyer Means’ office.”
On the right, in a clearing in the woods was a huge, multi-story building of great architectural elegance. A sign by the drive read:
Providence Means, Attorney
Always Open
Ask about my pro bono work.
“Heavens! He’s moved.”
“No, Ma’am, the firm hasn’t moved in thousands of years. Maybe the explanations should wait until you’ve seen a little more.”
The rain was slacking off. Far ahead of them were enormous buildings rising like white hills above the treetops. As they drew nearer, the spaces between the trees opened out into parkland that seemed to cover much of what had been the heart of the City. Looping around on the now sinuous streets, their vehicle passed ponds, pools, and lakes, interconnected by canals; and lawns and hills adorned by fountains, flower beds, and pavilions. There were ducks about, and geese and peacocks, but not one person. Yet pedestrian walkways were everywhere.
Soon they began to pass some of the white buildings of the City center—she could only call them temples—awesome indeed with great columns, pillars, and pediments, and here and there an outdoor throne on some eminence reached by hundreds of wide marble steps. No one could be seen in this vast temple district, and no vehicle other than their own was parked or moving on the roads. When Justice parked in front of one of the temples and they left the vehicle, the only sounds were those of the wind and of birdcalls. She breathed in the freshest air she had ever known. The rain had stopped.
For a long time, she stood simply looking around, slowly turning in place. Yes, this was the City, she concluded, for there was the ridge on the horizon all around, and one of the nearby buildings was the familiar old courthouse, standing, no doubt, where it always had. It looked cleaner than she had ever seen it but was otherwise unchanged. Far off to the west was the City cemetery, its white monuments and statues firmly in their usual places, and also to the west loomed the miles-long port side of the Gloria Dothan. Yes, and the river came through town at its accustomed angle, crossed by the usual, though now more beautiful, bridges. Orchards lined its banks. Also by the river, she spotted her beloved, old high school building, City High: which made no sense for it had been demolished long ago.
In the City center where they stood, the marble palaces loomed above, adorned with hanging gardens, courtyards, and plazas. Justice explained to her that each building served some unique purpose, such as museum or library, and that one, the largest, was the palace of Heaven’s King, who himself would be living in His new city.
She found herself trembling and, to steady herself, placed her hand on a lamppost, finding it to be firm and real. Looking at the post more carefully, she discovered that it was ornate, artistic. Slightly wavy lines were etched in it and at the base were the sculpted forms of a lion and a lamb, perfect in detail. It occurred to her that she would find nothing here that was not beautiful, nothing common, nothing of which it could be said that the designer was merely making do.
She had never before thought of it this way, but now had to concede that the City she had known all her life was full of ‘trash.’ This New City that Justice was now showing her in a vision was swept clean of the trash, not just of litter but of all the assorted signs and buildings that accompanied a struggle for money and power. Not even one advertisement! In place of the mess was all this beauty, peace, and majesty. Reason never considered anything for long without considering the cost. All this was unim
aginably expensive. Her King was very rich.
The sun shone feebly through the breaking clouds, showing her, here and there, far out in the woods, the few houses remaining in the City. Though she could not see them, she knew that two of these were Grace House and Hope House, out there in what seemed fated to be called Reason Park (unless she could stop them) and not far from the Dignity Monument. And yes, so immense was the Monument that even at this distance she could see parts of it above and through the trees.
“I know you don’t want to be away from home long,” said Justice, “so let me just take you up these stairs to show you what we need for the memorial.”
“I’ve changed my mind about being in a hurry,” she said. “Now the problem is that I don’t want to go back. Lead on, Lieutenant.”
At the top of the stairs they stood before a vast building topped with many martial statues: helmeted persons, both male and female, with swords and spears. Above all was a great Heavenite flag with its golden sun and twelve stars. Nearest to them stood a gleaming marble wall, set away from the building, with words chiseled into it: In Tribute to the Converts of the City Who Fought the Long War.
“This is the War Memorial,” Justice said, “Inside are all the records, the stories of every drop of blood spilled, every martyr, every brave act. The Architectural Council wanted to have something more written on it, maybe poetry, so I obliged by submitting something I wrote myself. They said that, if I use it, I’ll get a dishonorable discharge.”
He handed her a slip of paper, and she read:
Here learn the story of the war
Of those who fought it and won, and for
Their pains received many crowns of glory.
Here is their courageous, historic story.
“I agree with the Council’s assessment,” she said, “only adding that the threatened punishment isn’t severe enough.”
“All right, I admit it’s not Shakespeare.”
“It’s not even Julia A. Moore. What do you want me to do? Replace it with something that scans?”
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘scans,’ Mrs. Reason, but Ambassador Grace suggested that a poem by one of the converts would be appropriate, and he suggested I ask you. He also said I should bring you to the actual site because it would guide your thoughts and inspire you.”
“Did he? All right, I’ll bail you out, but I warn you I’m not all that good myself. The Council may not like my effort much better than yours.”
“I’m sure they will, ma’am!” the Lieutenant replied with relief. “I have some other things to check on, so how about if I swing back around here in half an hour? Not enough? Forty-five minutes then? Fine! Do you have paper and a pen? You do? OK, see you then.”
So she sat on a bench and for the allotted time scribbled and crossed out and thought of rhymes. But she also looked around at the glory of the New City and chided herself for having ever complained about the trials and difficulties of serving her Lord. What were dangers and frights compared to an ‘eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison?’ What exactly could be said in favor of serving herself, of looking for comfort and the easy way, when she could instead serve the King who had made the world and would remake the City?
When Justice returned he found her just completing a fair copy of a rondeau, which she handed to him. He read it over slowly.
A saint’s an active thing. The Lord conceived
Of more than just a bundle that believed;
He planned a something clashing, thrashing, biting
To hurl against those wrongs he chose for righting
Or serve in some lost cause He wished retrieved.
And you expected rest. Be undeceived.
For though a sinner may know peace bereaved
Of plan or purpose, pale and unexciting,
A saint’s an active thing.
Each child of grace is impolitely heaved
Out of his bed and, startled and aggrieved,
Is issued arms and thrust into the fighting.
So, gripped in Christ’s affirming and delighting,
And being neither discharged nor relieved,
A saint’s an active thing.
He looked up. “That’s the stuff,” he said grinning. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Just imagine that now in foot high letters up there on the marble! Thanks, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I know you may not understand, but I needed to write it.”
When they were moving again in the military vehicle, Lt. Justice reached down and casually flipped the same dashboard switch that had turned on the Vision. Instantly, downtown crowds and traffic surrounded them. Litter was on the sidewalks. Someone honked his car horn. A billboard invited Reason to buy beer.