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He already had more than enough. He had a kingdom, he had power. True that the gods had stirred up the Athenians against Atlantis, but what had the war achieved? Hisbeautiful cities and harbours were sunk. His palace was decorated with fishes. There was no such place as his world.
    Why had he not recognised the boundaries of his life, and if he had recognised them, why did he hate them so much?
       
    Always boundaries and desire …
    It is fit that a man should do his best and grapple with the world. It is meet that he should accept the challenge of his destiny. What happens when the sun reaches the highest point in the day? Is it a failure for morning to become afternoon, or afternoon to turn into peaceful evening and star-bright night?
       
    Heracles was more afraid now than he had been in his whole life. He could accept any challenge except the challenge of no challenge. He knew himself through combat. He defined himself by opposition. When he fought, he could feel his muscles work and the blood pumping through his body. Now he felt nothing but the weight of the world. Atlas was right, it was too heavy for him. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t bear this slowly turning solitude.
       
    In the garden, Atlas became aware of another pres ence. Veiled Hera was standing by her tree.
    ‘Atlas,’ said Hera, ‘why do you lie there?’
    ‘Are you sent to punish me?’ said Atlas.
    ‘Pick up the apple,’ said Hera.
    ‘I can’t.’ Atlas laughed. His position was ludicrous.
    ‘Atlas, do you know what this tree is?’
    ‘It is your tree, given to you by Mother Earth.’
    ‘And what is Mother Earth’s greatest gift?’
    ‘Knowledge of past and future,’ said Atlas.
       
    Earth is ancient now, but all knowledge is stored up in her. She keeps a record of everything that has happened since time began. Of time before time, she says little, and in a language that no one has yet understood. Through time, her secret codes have gradually been broken. Her mud and lava is a message from the past.
    Of time to come, she says much, but who listens?
       
    ‘The apples you have taken are your own past and future,’ said Hera.
    Atlas was afraid. His future was at the ends of his fingers, and too heavy to be moved.
    ‘The third apple is the present,’ said Hera, ‘made from your past, pointing towards your future. Which is it Atlas? Only you can decide.’
    ‘Why could not Heracles pick the fruit himself?’
    ‘Heracles stole from me once. He will not steal from me again.’
    ‘Why did you send Ladon to guard the tree?’
    ‘Anyone who plucks these apples will be like the gods, knowing past and future as though they were today.’
    ‘That would be a blessing for mankind.’
    ‘That would be a curse,’ said Hera. ‘Humankindcontinues in ignorance because knowledge destroys them. Everything that man invents he soon turns to his own destruction. Your brother Prometheus stole fire and what did men do with that gift? They learned to burn each other’s crops and houses. Chiron taught you medicine and what did you learn to make? Poisons. Ares gave you weapons, and what did you do with them but kill each other? Even you, Atlas, half man half god, destroyed the most beautiful city in the world. You preferred to ruin your own farms than see them harvested by another. You scuttled your own ships rather than see them in the hands of the enemy.’
    ‘The gods made war on us,’ said Atlas.
    ‘So you made our job easy and wiped yourself out.’
    ‘Why do you talk like this?’
    ‘To help you make a choice.’
    ‘I have no choice.’
    ‘That is what you said when you made war on the gods.’
    ‘There is no choice. There is Fate. No man escapes his fate.’
    ‘Look at the tree Atlas.’
       
    Atlas rolled on his side and looked at the tree, strangely shining. He could not count the fruit.
    ‘You chose three apples. Did you choose them by accident or chance?’
    ‘When I looked there were only three apples on the