“Better gods than Jathery?” Sokrates asked.
“Jathery’s the best we have, from what I’ve heard.” He hesitated, the orange marks on his skin becoming clearer as he relaxed. “I’m space-born, and I’ve never been to our planet-of-origin, but they say that there are gods there, one set for each of our three continents, and they’re constantly meddling in everything and won’t leave us alone. We try to appease them, and sometimes it works. Our gods aren’t friendly like yours. They’re terrifying, in fact. There’s also another kind of religion that many of us practiced, at least until we came here and became Platonists. Maybe it’s not a religion, maybe it’s more of a philosophy. It has no gods and is a bit like your Stoicism, except not really, because there’s no question that our gods are real and taking an interest. What it’s about is getting the gods to overlook us. That’s what we want. It was the followers of that philosophy who made it into space, and once we got out of our original solar system we found the gods didn’t follow us and intimidate us any more, and we liked it that way. Except Jathery, gla followed us all right. We belong to gla. Gla is the god of freedom of choice and knowledge—questions and answers and tricks.”
“And name-changing?” Sokrates said.
“Yes, that too,” the Sael said. “I mentioned that before. Name-changing. Gla charges a high price and sometimes cheats us, but that’s how we get free. Gla changes gla own name, and gla shape with it. Gla can be terrifying, but not as bad as the others, they say.”
“We saw gla change shape,” Sokrates said.
“Had gla taken a human disguise?” His tone was horrified and the patterns on his skin faded again.
“Gla appeared as the god Hermes,” Sokrates said. The Saeli who were standing all sucked in their breath and rocked back on their heels in unison. The seated one shook his head slowly.
“Gla gave no name but let them judge the seeming,” Hilfa said.
“Isn’t that like gla,” the seated one said. The rest of the pod sighed and nodded in agreement. “Well, when we went into space, Jathery could follow along, and did, because it was with gla help that we’d got away, with wisdom and learning and tricks of technology and magic to reach between the stars. Some of us kept on calling on gla, so gla accompanied us to the new worlds. Sometimes gla helps. But there is always a high price. Gla is a trickster always. Most of us pray to be overlooked.”
“I still don’t understand,” Sokrates said. “You speak of wisdom and tricks as if they’re connected.”
“They are,” the kelp-gatherer said. “How to explain? Imagine a god standing on a mountain-top, on the edge of a cliff. Gla can see a long way, yes? But also, gla would fall if gla took a step forward. Maybe gla is paying attention to what’s right there, or maybe gla is looking way out ahead. And gla is laughing, and holding up a light, and however much gla tells us, gla never tells us everything. Gla calls us to follow. If we follow gla, well, maybe we fall off the cliff. Or maybe we learn to fly. Gla lures us forward, and gla laughs if we don’t learn fast enough and fall.”
“Gla can see, you understand, where it is dark to us,” Hilfa said. “And if gla tells us to do something, it is perhaps because gla can see, or perhaps because gla likes to trick us. That is how Jathery is always. We are right to be afraid.”
“Much of what gla has taught us is good,” the kelp-picker objected. “Gla likes power, yes, and enjoys playing tricks, and gla wants knowledge, but gla is concerned for us, not like other gods.”
One of his pod behind said something in Saeli.
“They want to go and tell Aroo that Jathery was here,” Hilfa said. “It is a good idea.”
“Aroo knows,” I said. “Well, I think she does. She saw gla in Thessaly when gla was disguised as Hermes.”
“She would have recognized gla,” Hilfa said. He said something long in Saeli, and the kelp-gatherers all nodded.
“We will go and talk to her, and to Afial, and tell them all that,” the sitting one said, getting to his feet. “And you can tell Sokrates anything else he needs to know.” The whole pod left, in silence.
Sokrates picked up his soup, though it must have been cold by now. He sipped it. “So on your planet-of-origin your gods interfere?” he asked.
“Not with everyone all the time, but a great deal, yes, from what I have heard,” Hilfa said. “And everyone lives in fear of them. Here we do not name them in case they hear and arrive. I don’t know if that could really happen or if it is an incorrect belief.”
“So you believe that unless you speak their names, they won’t follow?” Sokrates asked.
“It has worked so far,” Hilfa said.
“Did you tell the kelp-gatherers that right now Jathery is headed off into Chaos?” I interrupted. I was still a little shaken from the threat of violence, conveyed in nothing more than the shift of shoulders and tilting of heads, so abruptly present and even more swiftly dissipated.
Hilfa shook his head slowly. “Aroo doesn’t need to know that.”
Sokrates frowned. “I’m not in favor of keeping things secret.”
“What would happen if Zeus unmade time?” Hilfa asked.
“I don’t know, you should ask Ikaros. But as I understand it, everything would cease to exist,” Sokrates said. “As Pytheas suggested, perhaps he’d make another, better attempt at imposing order on the universe, or perhaps everything would remain chaotic.”
I shuddered.
“What would it feel like?” Hilfa asked.
“I don’t know. It would be interesting to find out, don’t you think?”
“It makes me feel cold all through to think that could happen at any moment,” I said.
“Pytheas did seem to be worried about it, so I suppose it might. But cheer up, Jason.” He beamed at me, his whole face crinkling up around his eyes, which almost disappeared in the creases. “We have immortal souls.”
“I don’t find that thought very comforting in the circumstances,” I said. Hilfa nodded emphatically.
“Well, given that we have immortal souls, which we now really know unquestionably that we do, there are only three possibilities. Either we’d forget everything and start fresh, never having known anything else, or we’d go on from where we are with the way souls learn and grow and keep on growing in the new universe. Or of course, this universe could keep on existing and our souls would keep on growing and learning here. Those are all three pretty good choices when you think about it.” Sokrates nodded cheerfully to himself.
“But I like this world. I like being me. I like my life,” I protested.
“Well, I like my life too, but I expect we’d also like our lives in a new universe,” Sokrates said. “And if we do remember in any way, then it would be extremely interesting to compare. Pythagoras remembered being Euphorbus, and a peacock.”
“What is a peacock?” Hilfa asked.
“That animal in the mosaic in the palaestra of Palymra,” I said. “The one with the big tail.”
“It’s a bird,” Sokrates said. “You don’t have them here?”
“No birds on Plato at all,” I said.
At that moment Arete came in, and Sokrates got up. “I’ll go and see my old friend Crocus,” he said. “Joy to you both. See you tomorrow.”
“I belong on Plato,” Hilfa said as we collected the bowls and stacked them at the back of the room.
“I’m really glad you’re staying,” I said.
“So now can we form a pod?” he asked, as we walked out of the side room and into the main part of the temple.
“What?” I kept thinking the day couldn’t hold any more surprises, and then finding that it could.
“I have fulfilled my purpose and should be free now. I can change my name and take oath and form a pod. Arete said I belonged here, and Marsilia said she’d argue for me to take oath. So we can form a pod now,” Hilfa said. The statue of Amphitrite looked as surprised as I felt.
“You do belong here, and you should certainly take oath if that’s what you want, and I know that Saeli live in pods, but what does that have to do with me?” I asked.