I don’t plan to have children myself. Partly it’s because the whole sex thing seems so awkward and complicated, and partly it’s because I am Apollo’s daughter, and what would my children be? Quarter-deities? But mostly it’s because there isn’t any posterity for us. They, or their descendants, would only be born to die when the volcano destroys us all. I suppose I could flee to the mainland like Kebes, and have children there whose genes could join the human mainstream, but there doesn’t seem to be much point. What kind of a life would it be, without books or debate, at a Bronze-Age tech level? It’s bad enough here when things break down and we have to do everything by hand. Maia says the Workers gave them freedom they didn’t appreciate at the time, and that philosophy is harder when you’re cold and hungry. What kind of life would it be for children in Mycenaean Greece? Especially as half of them would, statistically, be girls? I’m looking forward to seeing it, but I wouldn’t like to live there. So I don’t plan on having children. That doesn’t mean I’ll necessarily lead a celibate life, though I have so far, because there’s a plant called silphium that prevents conception, and Mother told me all about it when my menses started.

I suppose it’s unusual that my father is a god, and I should write about that. I don’t know what to say though, because I’ve known about it all my life, and take it for granted. I don’t know what it would be like to have any other kind of father. It’s a secret from most people in the City, though. I used to wonder how it was they didn’t guess, but it isn’t all that obvious really. Father doesn’t have his divine abilities, and while everyone can see how intelligent and musical and athletic he is, they tend to see him as just an exceptional success of Plato’s methods. Some people don’t like him and think that he’s arrogant, but in general, everyone recognizes and admires his excellence. I think it helps that they see Father and Mother together—people have a tendency to see them and speak about them as Pytheas-and-Simmea, as if they were one thing. So they wouldn’t think about Father’s excellences without thinking about Mother’s too. Lots of people in the City, and especially the Masters, tend to see my parents as the closest thing we yet have to Philosopher Kings, as the proof of the success of Plato’s methods. It’s a lot for me to live up to. Sometimes I feel squeezed by the pressure of expectations.