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He was the youngest person present, a representative from Marissa, very enthusiastic. He was fair-skinned and blond, and he always reminded me of a spring lamb, dashing off in all directions, shaking his tail with enthusiasm. “And it doesn’t stop people debating about religion. There are people born since the Relocation who don’t believe in it. And there are Ikarians in Amazonia who’ll argue with Porphyry to his face that they understand what he is and what that means better than he does.”
    â€œCall them followers of the New Concordance, not Ikarians,” I said, wearily, in advance of the forest of hands raised by Ikarian senators. “You know that, Halius.”
    Halius nodded in the direction of the Ikarians. “Apologies,” he said. Of course, everyone called them Ikarians all the time and they knew it. They believed in a strange syncretic version of Christianity which had been invented by Ikaros. After Ikaros became a god (or, according to them, an angel, though do not ask an Ikarian what the difference is unless you have a lot of spare time), they took this as proof of his theories. Older people say the New Concordance has changed a lot since Ikaros’s apotheosis.
    Dad was asking for permission to speak, and I granted it, relieved. “Even if some people do believe when they’ve seen the proof, it’s likely that most people won’t,” Dad said. “Athene said it could block off other paths to enlightenment. But it would only do that if everyone knew and believed it. And they wouldn’t. They might read accounts of Phaedrus and the volcanoes, or the bodies of the Children disappearing at death, and so on, but they would think other people had been fooled. It’s only a problem for people who actually come here and see incontrovertible evidence, and that will only be a few people. Nobody else would have proof.”
    Androkles raised a hand to be recognized, and I nodded to him. He was a bearded man about my own age, from Sokratea. His son Xanthus was one of Alkippe’s playmates.
    â€œI haven’t thought about this much before,” he began. “But why are we obeying the gods in this? Telling the truth, and proving it with rigorous philosophy and evidence, seems to me better than lying by misdirection. I’d like to hear from our own gods on this, from Pytheas and his children, to hear their arguments. There may be good reasons for it, but I want to hear them. I see no inherent reason why we should follow the dictates of Zeus merely because he issued them. We know the gods aren’t inherently good. Or wise.”
    â€œThey could smite us with lightning or turn us into flies,” Diotima pointed out.
    â€œThat’s a terrible reason to obey them, out of fear of their bad temper,” Androkles replied without hesitation.
    â€œThey do know more than we do,” Dad said. “They have an inherently wider perspective.”
    â€œGood! Then let them come here and make their points,” Androkles said. “Let’s hear the explanation for why we should keep the truth from wider humanity, and see whether we agree. And if they turn this Chamber into a buzzing cloud of flies, then we’ll know they didn’t have a good argument, like Athene at the Last Debate.”
    â€œIn Sokratea you might think it’s better to be metamorphosed into an insect than lose an argument, but we don’t all agree,” Dad said. There was a laugh.
    â€œHave you finished?” I asked Androkles.
    â€œI only want to say that the fact you have a plan formulated way back in the consulship of Maia and Klio that doesn’t mean we should abjectly follow it without re-examination.”
    And that was Sokratea all over. They spent so much time re-examining everything it was a wonder they ever got anything done at all.
    â€œWhy isn’t Pytheas here?” Diotima asked.
    â€œPytheas died this afternoon,” I said.