Atlantis And Other Places Part 11

"If I am wisest-which I doubt, no matter what the G.o.ds may say-it is because I know how ignorant I am, where other men are ignorant even of that," Sokrates replied.

Alkibiades' grin grew impudent. "Other men don't know how ignorant you are?" he suggested slyly. Sokrates laughed. But Alkibiades' grin slipped. "Ignorant or not, will you walk with me?"

"If you like," Sokrates said. "You know I never could resist your beauty." He imitated the little lisp for which Alkibiades was famous, and sighed like a lover gazing upon his beloved.

"Oh, go howl!" Alkibiades said. "Even when we slept under the same blanket, we only slept. You did your best to ruin my reputation."

"I cannot ruin your reputation." Sokrates' voice grew sharp. "Only you can do that."

Alkibiades made a face at him. "Come along, best one, if you'd be so kind." They walked away from the Athenian encampment on a winding dirt track that led up towards Aetna. Alkibiades wore a chiton with purple edging and shoes with golden clasps. Sokrates' tunic was threadbare and raggedy; he went barefoot the way he usually did, as if he were a sailor.

The sight of the most and least elegant men in the Athenian expedition walking along together would have been plenty to draw eyes even if the Salaminia Salaminia hadn't just come to Katane. As things were, they had to tramp along for several stadia before shaking off the last of the curious. Sokrates ignored the men who followed hoping to eavesdrop. Alkibiades glowered at them till they finally gave up. hadn't just come to Katane. As things were, they had to tramp along for several stadia before shaking off the last of the curious. Sokrates ignored the men who followed hoping to eavesdrop. Alkibiades glowered at them till they finally gave up.

"Vultures," he muttered. "Now I know how Prometheus must have felt." He put a hand over his liver.

"Is that what you wanted to talk about?" Sokrates asked.

"You know what I want to talk about. You were there when those idiots in gold wreaths summoned me back to Athens," Alkibiades answered. Sokrates looked over at him, his face showing nothing but gentle interest. Alkibiades snorted. "And don't pretend you don't, either, if you please. I haven't the time for it."

"I am only the most ignorant of men-" Sokrates began. Alkibiades cursed him, as vilely as he knew how. Sokrates gave back a mild smile in return. That made Alkibiades curse harder yet. Sokrates went on as if he hadn't spoken: "So you will will have to tell me what it is you want, I fear." have to tell me what it is you want, I fear."

"All right. All right right." Alkibiades kicked at a pebble. It spun into the brush by the track. "I'll play your polluted game. What am I supposed to do about the Salaminia Salaminia and the summons?" and the summons?"

"Why, that which is best, of course."

"Thank you so much, O most n.o.ble one," Alkibiades snarled. He kicked another pebble, a bigger one this time. "Oimoi! That hurt!" He hopped a couple of times before hurrying to catch up with Sokrates, who'd never slowed. That hurt!" He hopped a couple of times before hurrying to catch up with Sokrates, who'd never slowed.

Sokrates eyed him with honest perplexity. "What else can can a man who knows what the good is do but that which is best?" a man who knows what the good is do but that which is best?"

"What is is the good here?" Alkibiades demanded. the good here?" Alkibiades demanded.

"Why ask me, when I am so ignorant?" Sokrates replied. Alkibiades started to kick yet another pebble, thought better of it, and cursed again instead. Sokrates waited till he'd finished, then inquired, "What do you you think the good is here?" think the good is here?"

"Games," Alkibiades muttered. He breathed heavily, mastering himself. Then he laughed, and seemed to take himself by surprise. "I'll pretend I'm an ephebe again, eighteen years old and curious as a puppy. By the G.o.ds, I wish I were. The good here is that which is best for me and that which is best for Athens."

He paused, waiting to see what Sokrates would say to that. Sokrates, as was his way, asked another question: "And what will happen if you return to Athens on the Salaminia Salaminia?"

"My enemies there will murder me under form of law," Alkibiades answered. After another couple of strides, he seemed to remember he was supposed to think of Athens, too. "And Nikias will find some way to botch this expedition. For one thing, he's a fool. For another, he doesn't want to be here in the first place. He doesn't think we can win. With him him in command, he's likely right." in command, he's likely right."

"Is this best for you and best for Athens, then?" Sokrates asked.

Alkibiades gave him a mocking bow. "It would seem not, O best one," he answered, as if he were chopping logic in front of Simon the shoemaker's.

"All right, then. What other possibilities exist?" Sokrates asked.

"I could make as if to go back to Athens, then escape somewhere and live my own life," Alkibiades said. "That's what I'm thinking of doing now, to tell you the truth."

"I see," Sokrates said. "And is this best for you?"

A wild wolf would have envied Alkibiades' smile. "I think so. It would give me the chance to avenge myself on all my enemies. And I would, too. Oh, wouldn't I just?"

"I believe you," Sokrates said, and he did. Alkibiades was a great many things, but no one had ever reckoned him less than able. "Now, what of Athens if you do this?"

"As for the expedition, the same as in the first case. As for the polis, to the crows with it," Alkibiades said savagely. "It is my enemy, and I its."

"And is this that which is best for Athens, which you said you sought?" Sokrates asked. Yes, Alkibiades would make a formidable enemy.

"A man should do his friends good and his enemies harm," he said now. "If the city made me flee her, she would be my enemy, not my friend. Up till now, I have done her as much good as I could. I would do the same in respect to harm."

A wall lizard stared at Sokrates from a boulder sticking up out of the scrubby brush by the side of the track. He took one step closer to it. It scrambled off the boulder and away. For a moment, he could hear it skittering through dry weeds. Then it must have found a hole, for silence returned. He wondered how it knew to run when something that might be danger approached. But that riddle would have to wait for another time. He gave his attention back to Alkibiades, who was watching him with an expression of wry amus.e.m.e.nt, and asked, "If you go back with the Salaminia Salaminia to Athens, then, you say, you will suffer?" to Athens, then, you say, you will suffer?"

"That is what I say, yes." Alkibiades dipped his head in agreement.

"And if you do not accompany the Salaminia Salaminia all the way back to Athens, you say that the polis will be the one to suffer?" all the way back to Athens, you say that the polis will be the one to suffer?"

"Certainly. I say that also," Alkibiades replied with a wry chuckle. "See how much I sound like any of the other poor fools you question?"

Sokrates waved away the gibe. "Do you say that either of these things is best for you and best for Athens?"

Now Alkibiades tossed his head. "It would seem not, O best one. But what else can I do? The a.s.sembly is back at the city. It voted what it voted. I don't see how I could change its mind unless. ..." His voice trailed away. He suddenly laughed out loud, laughed out loud and sprang forward to kiss Sokrates on the mouth. "Thank you, my dear! You have given me the answer."

"Nonsense!" Sokrates pushed him away hard enough to make him stumble back a couple of paces; those stonecutter's shoulders still held a good deal of strength. "I only ask questions. If you found an answer, it came from inside you."

"Your questions shone light on it."

"But it was there all along, or I could not have illuminated it. And as for the kiss, if you lured me out into this barren land to seduce me, I am afraid you will find yourself disappointed despite your beauty."

"Ah, Sokrates, if you hadn't put in that last I think you would have broken my heart forever." Alkibiades made as if to kiss the older man again. Sokrates made as if to pick up a rock and clout him with it. Laughing, they turned and walked back toward the Athenians' encampment.

Herakleides threw up shocked hands. "This is illegal!" he exclaimed.

Nikias wagged a finger in Alkibiades' face. "This is unprecedented!" he cried. By the way he said it, that was worse than anything merely illegal could ever be.

Alkibiades bowed to each of them in turn. "Ordering me home when I wasn't in Athens to defend myself is illegal," he said. "Recalling a commander in the middle of such an important campaign is unprecedented. We have plenty of Athenians here. Let's see what they they think about it." think about it."

He looked across the square in Katane. He'd spoken here to the a.s.sembly of the locals not long before, while Athenian soldiers filtered into the polis and brought it under their control. Now Athenian hoplites and rowers and marines filled the square. They made an a.s.sembly of their own. It probably was illegal. It certainly was unprecedented. Alkibiades didn't care. It just as certainly was his only chance.

He took a couple of steps forward, right to the edge of the speakers' platform. Sokrates was out there somewhere. Alkibiades couldn't pick him out, though. He shrugged. He was on his own anyhow. Sokrates might have given him some of the tools he used, but he he had to use them. He was fighting for had to use them. He was fighting for his his life. life.

"Hear me, men of Athens! Hear me, people people of Athens!" he said. The soldiers and sailors leaned forward, intent on his every word. The people of Athens had sent them forth to Sicily. The idea that they might of Athens!" he said. The soldiers and sailors leaned forward, intent on his every word. The people of Athens had sent them forth to Sicily. The idea that they might be be the people of Athens as well as its representatives here in the west was new to them. They had to believe it. Alkibiades had to make them believe it. If they didn't, he was doomed. the people of Athens as well as its representatives here in the west was new to them. They had to believe it. Alkibiades had to make them believe it. If they didn't, he was doomed.

"Back in the polis, the a.s.sembly there"-he wouldn't call that the people of Athens the people of Athens-"has ordered me home so they can condemn me and kill me without most of my friends-without you you-there to protect me. They say I desecrated the herms in the city. They say I profaned the sacred mysteries of Eleusis. One of their so-called witnesses claims I broke the herms by moonlight, when everyone knows it was done in the last days of the month, when there was no moonlight. These are the sorts of people my enemies produce against me."

He never said he hadn't mutilated the herms. He never said he hadn't burlesqued the mysteries. He said the witnesses his opponents produced lied-and they did.

He went on, "Even if I went back to Athens, my enemies' witnesses would say one thing, my few friends and I another. No matter how the jury finally voted, no one would ever be sure of the truth. And so I say to you, men of Athens, people people of Athens, let us not rely on lies and jurymen who can be swayed by lies. Let us rest my fate on the laps of the G.o.ds." of Athens, let us not rely on lies and jurymen who can be swayed by lies. Let us rest my fate on the laps of the G.o.ds."

Nikias started. Alkibiades almost laughed out loud. Didn't expect that, did you, you omen-mongering fool? Didn't expect that, did you, you omen-mongering fool?

Aloud, he continued, "If we triumph here in Sicily under my command, will that not prove I have done no wrong in the eyes of heaven? If we triumph-as triumph we can, as triumph we shall shall-then I shall return to Athens with you, and let these stupid charges against me be forgotten forevermore. But if we fail here . . . If we fail here, I swear to you I shall not leave Sicily alive, but will be the offering to repay the G.o.ds for whatever sins they reckon me to have committed. That is my offer, to you and to the G.o.ds. Time will show what they say of it. But what say you, men of Athens? What say you, people people of Athens?" of Athens?"

He waited for the decision of the a.s.sembly he'd convened. He didn't have to wait long. Cries of "Yes!" rang out, and "We accept!" and "Alkibiades!" A few men tossed their heads and yelled things like "No!" and "Let the decision of the a.s.sembly in Athens stand!" But they were only a few, overwhelmed and outshouted by Alkibiades' backers.

Turning to Herakleides and Nikias, Alkibiades bowed once more. They'd thought they would be able to address the Athenian soldiers and sailors after he finished. But the decision was already made. Herakleides looked stunned, Nikias dyspeptic.

With another bow, Alkibiades said to Herakleides, "You will take my answer and the true choice of the people of Athens back to the polis?"

The other man needed two or three tries before he managed to stammer out, "Y-Yes."

"Good." Alkibiades smiled. "Tell the polis also, I hope to be back there myself before too long."

Sokrates settled his helmet on his head. The bronze and the glued-in padded lining would, with luck, keep some Syracusan from smashing in his skull. The walls of Syracuse loomed ahead. The Athenians were building their own wall around the city, to cut it off from the countryside and starve it into submission. Now the Syracusans had started a counterwall, thrust out from the fortifications of the polis. If it blocked the one the Athenians were building, Syracuse might stand. If the hoplites Alkibiades led could stop that counterwall . . . A man didn't need to be a general to see what would happen then.

Sweat streamed down Sokrates' face. Summer in Sicily was hotter than it ever got back home in Attica. He had a skin full of watered wine, and squirted some into his mouth. Swallowing felt good. A little of the wine splashed his face. That felt good, too.

"Pheu!" said another hoplite close by. "Only thing left of me'll be my shadow by the time we're done here." said another hoplite close by. "Only thing left of me'll be my shadow by the time we're done here."

Sokrates smiled. "I like that." He tilted back his helmet so he could drag a hairy forearm across his sweaty forehead, then let the helm fall down into place again. He tapped the nodding crimson-dyed horsehair plume with a forefinger. "This makes me seem fiercer than I am. But since all hoplites wear crested helms, and all therefore seem fiercer than they are, is it not true that the intended effect of the crest is wasted?"

Laughing, the other hoplite said, "You come up with some of the strangest things, Sokrates, Furies take me if you don't."

"How can the search for truth be strange?" Sokrates asked. "Do you say the truth is somehow alien to mankind, and that he has no knowledge of it from birth?"

Instead of answering, the other Athenian pointed to one of the rough little forts in which the Syracusans working on their counterwall sheltered. "Look! They're coming out." So they were, laborers in short chitons or loincloths, with armored hoplites to protect them while they piled stone on stone. "Doesn't look like they've got very many guards out today, does it?"

"Certainly not," Sokrates answered. "The next question to be asked is, why have they sent forth so few?"

Horns blared in the Athenian camp. "I don't think our captain cares why," the other hoplite said, pulling down his helmet so the cheekpieces and nasal protected his face. "Whatever the reason is, he's going to make them sorry for being so stupid."

"But do you not agree that why why is always the most important question?" Sokrates asked. Instead of answering, the other hoplite turned to take his place in line. The horns cried out again. Sokrates picked up his shield and his spear and also joined the building phalanx. In the face of battle, all questions had to wait. Sometimes the fighting answered them without words. is always the most important question?" Sokrates asked. Instead of answering, the other hoplite turned to take his place in line. The horns cried out again. Sokrates picked up his shield and his spear and also joined the building phalanx. In the face of battle, all questions had to wait. Sometimes the fighting answered them without words.

The Athenian captain pointed toward the Syracusans a couple of stadia away. "They've goofed, boys. Let's make 'em pay. We'll beat their hoplites, run their workers off or else kill 'em, and we'll tear down some of that wall they're trying to build. We can do it. It'll be easy. Give the war-cry good and loud so they know we're coming. That'll scare the s.h.i.t out of 'em, just like on the comic stage."

"How about the comic stage?" the hoplite next to Sokrates asked. "You were up there, in Aristophanes' Clouds Clouds."

"I wasn't there in person, though the mask the actor wore looked so much like me, I stood up in the audience to show the resemblance," Sokrates answered. "And it's the Syracusans we want to do the s.h.i.tting, not ourselves."

"Forward!" the captain shouted, and pointed at the Syracusans with his spear.

Sokrates shouted, "Eleleu! Eleleu!" "Eleleu! Eleleu!" with the rest of the Athenians as they advanced on their foes. It wasn't a wild charge at top speed. A phalanx, even a small one like this, would fall to pieces and lose much of its force in such a charge. What made the formation strong was each soldier protecting his neighbor's right as well as his own left with his shield, and two or three serried ranks of spearheads projecting out beyond the front line of hoplites. No soldiers in the world could match h.e.l.lenic hoplites. The Great Kings of Persia knew as much, and hired h.e.l.lenes by the thousands as mercenaries. with the rest of the Athenians as they advanced on their foes. It wasn't a wild charge at top speed. A phalanx, even a small one like this, would fall to pieces and lose much of its force in such a charge. What made the formation strong was each soldier protecting his neighbor's right as well as his own left with his shield, and two or three serried ranks of spearheads projecting out beyond the front line of hoplites. No soldiers in the world could match h.e.l.lenic hoplites. The Great Kings of Persia knew as much, and hired h.e.l.lenes by the thousands as mercenaries.

The Athenians might have made short work of Persians or other barbarians. The Syracusans, though, were just as much h.e.l.lenes as they were. Though outnumbered, the soldiers guarding the men building the counterwall shouted back and forth in their drawling Doric dialect and then also formed a phalanx-only four or five rows deep, for they were short of men-and hurried to block the Athenians' descent on the laborers. They too cried, "Eleleu!" "Eleleu!"

As a man will do on the battlefield, Sokrates tried to spot the soldier he would likely have to fight. He knew that was a foolish exercise. He marched in the third row of the Athenians, and the enemy he picked might go down or shift position before they met. But, with the universal human longing to find patterns whether they really existed or not, he did it anyway.

"Eleleu! Elel-" Crash! Both sides' war cries were lost in what sounded like a disaster in a madman's smithy as the two front lines collided. Spearpoints clattered off bronze corselets and bronze-faced shields. Those shields smacked together, men from each side trying to force their foes to danger. Some spearpoints struck flesh instead of bronze. Shrieks and curses rang through the metallic clangor. Both sides' war cries were lost in what sounded like a disaster in a madman's smithy as the two front lines collided. Spearpoints clattered off bronze corselets and bronze-faced shields. Those shields smacked together, men from each side trying to force their foes to danger. Some spearpoints struck flesh instead of bronze. Shrieks and curses rang through the metallic clangor.

Where the man on whom Sokrates had fixed went, he never knew. He thrust underhanded at another Syracusan, a young fellow with reddish streaks in his black beard. The spearpoint bit into the enemy's thigh, below the bronze-studded leather strips he wore over his kilt and above the top of his greave. Blood spurted, red as the feathers of a spotted woodp.e.c.k.e.r's crest. The Syracusan's mouth opened enormously wide in a great wail of anguish. He toppled, doing his best to pull his shield over himself so he wouldn't be trampled.

Relying on weight of numbers, the Athenians bulled their way forward, forcing their foes to give ground and spearing them down one after another. Most of the laborers the Syracusans had protected ran back toward the fort from which they'd come. Some, though, hovered on the outskirts of the battle and flung stones at the Athenians. One banged off Sokrates' shield.

And if it had hit me in the face? he wondered. The answer to that was obvious enough, though not one even a lover of wisdom cared to contemplate. he wondered. The answer to that was obvious enough, though not one even a lover of wisdom cared to contemplate.

A Syracusan thrust a spear at Sokrates. He turned it aside with his shield, then quickly stepped forward, using the shield as a battering ram. The enemy soldier gave ground. He was younger than Sokrates-what hoplite wasn't?-but on the scrawny side. Broad-shouldered and thick through the chest and belly, Sokrates made the most of his weight. The Syracusan tripped over a stone and went down, arms flailing, with a cry of despair. The Athenian behind Sokrates drove a spear into the fallen man's throat. His blood splashed Sokrates' greaves.

Athenians went down, too, in almost equal numbers, but they still had the advantage. Before long, their foes wouldn't be able to hold their line together. Once the Syracusans fled, all running as individuals instead of fighting together in a single unit, they would fall like barley before the scythe.

But then, only moments before that would surely happen, horns blared from the walls of Syracuse. A gate opened. Out poured more Syracusans, rank upon rank of them, the sun gleaming ruddy from their bronzen armor and reflecting in silvery sparkles off countless iron spearheads. "Eleleu!" "Eleleu!" they roared, and thundered down on the Athenians like a landslide. they roared, and thundered down on the Athenians like a landslide.

"A trap!" groaned a hoplite near Sokrates. "They used those few fellows as bait to lure us in, and now they're going to b.u.g.g.e.r us."

"They have to have twice the men we do," another man agreed.

"Then we shall have to fight twice as hard," Sokrates said. "For is it not true that a man who shows he is anything but easy meat will often come out of danger safe, where one who breaks and runs is surely lost? I have seen both victory and defeat, and so it seems to me."

The more worried he was himself, the more he wanted to keep his comrades steady. The Syracusans out here by the counterwall had hung together well, waiting for their rescuers. Now the Athenians had to do the same. Sokrates looked around. He saw no rescuers. He shrugged inside his corselet. If the Syracusans wanted him, they would have to drag him down.

"Eleleu!" they cried. they cried. "Eleleu!" "Eleleu!"

Screaming like men gone mad, Athenian officers swung their men to face the new onslaught. Nothing was more hopeless, more defenseless, than a phalanx struck in the flank. This way, at least, they would make the enemy earn whatever he got. "Come on, boys!" a captain shouted. "They're only Syracusans. We can beat them."

Sokrates wanted to ask him how he knew. No chance for that. The two phalanxes smashed together. Now it was the Athenians who were outnumbered. They fought to keep from being driven back, and to keep the Syracusans from breaking through or sliding around their front. As men in the first few ranks went down, others shoved forward to take their places.

He found himself facing a Syracusan whose spear had broken. The enemy hoplite had thrown away the shaft and drawn his sword-a good enough emergency weapon, but only an emergency weapon when facing a man with a pike. Sokrates could reach him, but he had no chance to reach Sokrates.

He had no chance, that is, till he hacked at Sokrates' spearshaft just below the head and watched the iron point fly free and thump down on the ground. "Papai!" "Papai!" Sokrates exclaimed in dismay. The Syracusan let out a triumphant whoop. A sword might not be much against a spear, but against a spearshaft . . . Sokrates exclaimed in dismay. The Syracusan let out a triumphant whoop. A sword might not be much against a spear, but against a spearshaft . . .

A sword proved not so much. In the front line, Sokrates had more room to wield what was left of his weapon than he would have farther back. He swung the beheaded shaft as if it were a club. It thudded against the Syracusan's shield. The next blow would have caved in his skull, helm or no helm, if he hadn't brought the shield up in a hurry. And the third stroke smacked into the side of his knee-he hadn't got the shield down again fast enough. No greave could protect him against a blow like that. Down he went, clutching his leg. In a scene straight from the Iliad Iliad, the hoplite behind him sprang forward to ward him with shield and armored body till comrades farther back could drag him out of the fight.

Sokrates used the moment's respite to throw down the ruined spear and s.n.a.t.c.h up one that somebody else had dropped. He dipped his head to the Syracusan across from him. "Bravely done, my friend."

"Same to you, old man," the other soldier answered. "A lot of hoplites would have cut and run when they lost their pikes." He gathered himself. "Brave or not, though, Athenian, I'll kill you if I can." Fast as a striking snake, his spearhead darted for Sokrates' face.

Ducking away from the thrust, Sokrates answered with one of his own. The Syracusan turned it on his shield. They both stepped forward to struggle shield to shield. The Syracusan kept up a steady stream of curses. Panting, winded, Sokrates needed all his breath to fight.

He drew back a couple of paces, not because the enemy hoplite was getting the better of him but because the rest of the Athenians had had to retreat. "Should have stayed, old man," the Syracusan jeered. "I'd have had you then, or my pals would if I didn't."

"If you want me, come and fight me," Sokrates said. "You won't kill me with words." I might fall dead over of my own accord, though I might fall dead over of my own accord, though. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so worn. Maybe-probably-he'd never been so worn before. Maybe my friends back in Athens were right, and I should have stayed in the city. War is a young man's sport. Am I young? Maybe my friends back in Athens were right, and I should have stayed in the city. War is a young man's sport. Am I young? He laughed. The Syracusan hoplite who'd been trying to kill him knew the answer to that. He laughed. The Syracusan hoplite who'd been trying to kill him knew the answer to that.

"What's funny, old man?" the Syracusan demanded.