“What will you give me for it?”

“Money?” I offered. I had no idea how much, but I could keep pulling coins out of the purse until he was satisfied.

“He’s a demon,” Kebes said, jerking a thumb at Hermes. “Treasure is nothing to what he can do.”

Of course, he had been one of Sokrates’s disciples, he couldn’t be stupid.

“I’m a god, but it’s true that there are a great many things I can do,” Hermes said smoothly. “So there must be something else I can trade you for it. Nothing that involves people doing things against their will. What else do you want?”

“Workers,” Kebes said promptly. “We could do so much more if we had Workers to build and make.”

Hermes shook his head. “Not possible. Workers are people too.”

Kebes frowned, nodded, drank again and put his empty cup down. I refilled it. “Then I want to spend time in a different time. Somewhere I can learn to do the things Workers do, and then come back here without losing any time.”

“That ought to be possible. What in particular?” Hermes asked.

“Making glass. And electricity. And the place where you take me has to be Christian.”

Hermes smiled enigmatically. “What languages do you speak?”

Kebes glanced around to see whether anyone could overhear. The other customers had left, and the woman serving had retreated inside. I could hear hammering from somewhere, but nobody was close. “Greek, Latin, and Italian,” he said, quietly. “I haven’t had the chance to speak it since I was a child, but it’s very like Latin and I know I haven’t forgotten it.”

“Then I have somewhere for you. It’s New Venice on Mars in 2140. They speak Italian and Chinese. They’re mostly Christians of some kind, I forget the exact sects. You could spend a year there learning glassblowing, which is one of their special arts. You’d pick up enough about electricity I expect—they certainly use it for a lot of things. They have Workers. Then I can bring you back here only a few minutes after you left.”

“What’s the catch?” Kebes asked, warily.

“You have to pray to me,” Hermes said.

“No.” Kebes drained his almost full cup and put it down. “I’m not risking my soul praying to demons.”

“Did I mention I’d send you there immediately before the Worker Rebellion?” Hermes asked. “You could have a year learning glassblowing and helping Workers plan a revolution to gain their freedom.”

“Get thee behind me, Satan,” Kebes said.

“I’m not Satan, and I’m not particularly interested in your soul. If you don’t want to go to New Venice, simply give me Athene’s message now and we’ll go away and leave you in peace.”

“Why does he have to pray to you?” I asked.

“So I can do it,” Hermes said.