slave had the same common sense as a man of rank. Perhaps he stood in an animated
wrangle with one of the citizens—or held a subdued conversation with his young
pupil Plato. It is extraordinary to think about. We still speak of Socratic or Platonic
philosophy, but actually being Plato or Socrates is quite another matter.”
Sophie certainly did think it was extraordinary to think about. But she thought it
was just as extraordinary the way her philosopher was suddenly talking to her on a
video that had been brought to her own secret hideout in the garden by a mysterious
dog.
The philosopher rose from the block of marble he was sitting on and said
quietly: “It was actually my intention to leave it at that, Sophie. I wanted you to see
the Acropolis and the remains of the old agora in Athens. But I am not yet sure that
you have grasped just how splendid these surroundings once were ... so I am very
tempted to go a bit further. It is quite irregular of course ... but I am sure I can count
on it remaining just between the two of us. Oh well, a tiny glimpse will suffice any-
way ...”
He said no more, but remained standing there for a long time, staring into the
camera. While he stood there, several tall buildings had risen from the ruins. As if by
magic, all the old buildings were once again standing.
Above the skyline Sophie could still see the Acropolis, but now both that and all
the buildings down on the square were brand-new. They were covered with gold and
painted in garish colors. Gaily dressed people were strolling about the square. Some
wore swords, others carried jars on their heads, and one of them had a roll of papyrus
under his arm.
Then Sophie recognized her philosophy teacher. He was still wearing the blue
beret, but now he was dressed in a yellow tunic in the same style as everyone else. He
came toward Sophie, looked into the camera, and said:
“That’s better! Now we are in the Athens of antiquity, Sophie. I wanted you to
come here in person, you see. We are in the year 402 B.C., only three years before
Socrates dies. I hope you appreciate this exclusive visit because it was very difficult
to hire a video camera ...”
Sophie felt dizzy. How could this weird man suddenly be in Athens 2,400 years
ago? How could she be seeing a video film of a totally different age? There were no
videos in antiquity ... so could this be a movie?
But all the marble buildings looked real. If they had recreated all of the old
square in Athens as well as the Acropolis just for the sake of a film—the sets would
have cost a fortune. At any rate it would be a colossal price to pay just to teach Sophie
about Athens.
The man in the beret looked up at her again.
“Do you see those two men over there under the colonnade?”
Sophie noticed an elderly man in a crumpled tunic. He had a long unkempt
beard, a snub nose, eyes like gimlets, and chubby cheeks. Beside him stood a hand-
some young man.
“That is Socrates and his young pupil, Plato. You are going to meet them
personally.”
The philosopher went over to the two men, took off his beret, and said
something which Sophie did not understand. It must have been in Greek. Then he
looked into the camera and said, “I told them you were a Norwegian girl who would
very much like to meet them. So now Plato will give you some questions to think
about. But we must do it quickly before the guards discover us.”
Sophie felt the blood pounding in her temples as the young man stepped