Celestial Matters by Richard Garfinkle Read Free Book Online

silent as our thoughts drifted back to our school days. At first I remembered the joys of school, learning, arguing, reading more than I had ever done before. But in the midst of my nostalgia some spirit—demon, hero, or god, I could not say—replaced those memories with recollections of the unpleasant aspects of the Akademe that I had blotted out in my three-year absence.
    Memories welled up: of the Athenian provincialism of the scholars, the assumption that only in the city of wisdom was there any true understanding of anything. Of the scientific provincialism, the belief that the understanding of nature was the only worthwhile understanding. And of the militarist provincialism, the belief that only the science that aided the nine-hundred-yearlong war was worthwhile science.
    The spirit filled the mirror of my mind with a blasphemous image. I saw the Akademe not as a nurturing mother to whom I, her wandering son, had returned, but rather as a ’etaira, beautiful in appearance, learned in speech, but fundamentally a whore.
    “Tell me about the lecture you’re going to give us this evening,” Polianara said, breaking the silence and forcing the image into a dark corner of my thoughts, where something snatched it away. “Everyone is waiting to hear about your secret research.”
    I laughed, trying to return myself to the mood of joyous homecoming, but the laugh was hollow. Secret, what a joke. The Akademe is the only place in the world where “secret” means “we’ll discuss it quietly,” and “most secret” means “let me whisper it to you.”
    But Captain Yellow Hare was glaring at me; to a Spartan, secret meant secret. I did not wish to explain the attitudes of the Akademe on this matter to Captain Yellow Hare or to the Spartan general staff if she reported me for a breach of security.
    “Sorry,” I said to Polianara, a bit too loudly, “it’s most secret.”
    She offered her ear for me to whisper in. I cupped my hand over the side of my mouth and spoke at normal volume. “It’s really secret.”
    She crossed her arms in front of her and looked at me like a stern elder sister. “Listen, Aias, rumors about this lecture have been running around the Akademe for the last month. All the senior scholars will be waiting in the main lecture clearing tonight. If you don’t have something interesting to say, your reputation will be ruined. Again.”
    Now that was a problem. My reputation in certain circles of the Akademe was not good. Normally I would have been happy to tell those detractors of mine that the Archons had found a speculative paper I had once written on possible methods for capturing celestial fire and had given me the task of turning theory into reality. But I did not care to do so with Captain Yellow Hare listening.
    But I had to tell the Akademe something in the lecture that evening, and I had to tell Polianara something now. “I’ll give it some thought.”
    “Really?” Polianara’s voice turned dry, bringing out that penchant for sarcasm Carthaginians are famous for. “You have three whole hours to make up your mind.”
    “That should be more than enough,” I said as I left the lab followed by my silent bodyguard.
    I considered returning to my quarters, reviewing my notes, and cobbling together a talk that alluded to my work on Project Sunthief without being indiscreet.
    Under pressure I did what scholars at the Akademe have done since Plato first bought this suburban orchard and transformed it into a college. I passed through the inner gates and wandered through the carefully manicured woods, hoping to draw inspiration from nature.
    The leaves crunched pleasantly under my sandals. The aroma of a thousand trees, brought to the Akademe from all parts of the League, mingled with the bright scent of spring to sharpen my thoughts. Many of the more visionary scholars had seen Athena herself come down from Olympos to sample that heady mixture of fruit smells, spicy nut scents, and the cloy