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Chapters (40)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraphs
  5. 1. Apollo
  6. 2. Arete
  7. 3. Arete
  8. 4. Maia
  9. 5. Arete
  10. 6. Arete
  11. 7. Apollo
  12. 8. Arete
  13. 9. Arete
  14. 10. Maia
  15. 11. Arete
  16. 12. Arete
  17. 13. Apollo
  18. 14. Arete
  19. 15. Arete
  20. 16. Maia
  21. 17. Arete
  22. 18. Arete
  23. 19. Apollo
  24. 20. Arete
  25. 21. Arete
  26. 22. Apollo
  27. 23. Maia
  28. 24. Arete
  29. 25. Arete
  30. 26. Apollo
  31. 27. Arete
  32. 28. Arete
  33. 29. Maia
  34. 30. Arete
  35. 31. Arete
  36. 32. Apollo
  37. Thanks
  38. About the Author
  39. Books by Jo Walton
  40. Newsletter Sign-up

Ficino’s wrong. I’ve written all of this already and I haven’t even got up to where I thought I’d really start, with the day my mother died.

3. Arete

3

ARETE

I ate lunch in Florentia that day. It is an eating hall, as it had always been. When my parents were young and there were plenty of Workers, humans didn’t need to do anything in Florentia except take their turn to serve the food one day a month. Now there are rotas for preparation and cooking and cleaning up, and I, along with everyone else who eats there, have to do one of those things every few days. The food is usually good. It was porridge and goat cheese and nuts and raisins that day. Neither of my parents were there, which wasn’t unusual. I came in from the palaestra with my friends Boas and Archimedes. We were all exactly the same age, and were training together to pass our adulthood tests in five months’ time, when we’d all turn sixteen.

We sat down to eat with Baukis and Ficino. Baukis is three months younger than the rest of us, and she’s a friend. Since Krito died, Ficino is the oldest and most generally respected person in the entire city. He’s pretty much always in Florentia. He sleeps upstairs and spends most of his days either sitting in the hall talking to people, or teaching in one of the nearby rooms. He seldom leaves Florentia now except to go to the library. He’d been tutoring Baukis while the rest of us were in the palaestra. Boas and Archimedes ate quickly and then went off to work, and my brother Phaedrus joined us. This was awkward and uncomfortable because Baukis started flirting with him, though he’s four years older than we are. After a while they left together to look something up in the library, both acting so stupid and coy that I felt myself squirming as I finished my nuts.

“It’s quite natural,” Ficino said.

I looked at him inquiringly.

“Girls mature faster, and so they are naturally attracted to men a few years older. It’s normal. It just seems strange to you because we have had such fixed cohorts that it hasn’t been possible until now.” Ficino cracked a hazelnut and popped it into his mouth. He had a face not unlike a nut, wizened and brown.

I didn’t at all want to talk to him about what girls were attracted to. “Why did you do it that way, then?”

“Plato,” he said, and held up a warning hand when he saw me open my mouth to protest. “Plato said to begin with ten-year-olds, and if you do that you will have a generation all the same age. It was one of those things that just happened that way. It was only ever intended to be for the first generation.”