Crocus quarried marble for us and delivered it to the site of the new city, and then we humans wrestled the slabs into roads and assembled the blocks into buildings. Crocus helped—what was difficult for even the strongest of us was trivially easy for him. We built one wall while he built the other three and put on the roof. He cut marble pipes and installed plumbing. We assembled ourselves into teams and tried to learn skills from him and from each other. We did as much as we could. As there were two thousand of us and one of him, in the end more of Amazonia was built by humans than by Crocus, but I don’t know how we could have possibly managed without him. We voted him full privileges of citizenship including voting rights, although he never became a resident. We inscribed his name among the list of founders. There is also a bas-relief of him above the main gate, carved by Ardeia.

He returned to the Remnant every night to rest and recharge, while the rest of us planned the city and the work for the next day. We did our planning in the dark. We had all grown used to electric lights in the time we had been in the City, and we missed them. Our old Tech Committee was almost all there, and we assembled to try to deal with problems.

“We need to find a way of having light,” Lysias said. “They have refused to let us have any of the solar lights, so we need a proper alternative. What did people use?” Lysias came from the twenty-first century and so, like the Children, he had grown up with electricity.

“Gas lights,” I said. “Gas was made from coal in some way. I’ve no idea how.”

“Nobody will know, and there won’t be any books on it,” Lysias said, savagely. “I don’t think there’s any coal on the island anyway. What else?”

“Oil lamps,” Axiothea said, a calm voice in the darkness. “We have olive oil. We can make glass, or if we can’t we can make clay lamps like the Romans had. I wonder what wicks are made out of?”

“If the Romans had them, somebody might know, or it might be written down somewhere,” Lysias said, sounding a little more cheerful. “Did they give enough light?”

“Enough to read and work by,” I said. “And there are also candles, made from beeswax or tallow. Wicks were made from cotton in my time, which we don’t have, but I expect linen would do just as well.”

“Candles, of course,” Klio said.

“They’re just decorative,” Lysias protested. “Not that I wouldn’t appreciate having one right now.”

“Lamps are more effective,” I said. I had lived with electricity long enough that it was easy for me to understand how in future ages, candles could have come to be thought of as nothing but decoration.