The Just City

The Just City

By Jo Walton

Created as an experiment by the time-traveling goddess Pallas Athene, the Just City is a planned community, populated by more than ten thousand children and a few hundred adult teachers from all eras of history, along with some handy robots from the far human future, all set down together on a Mediterranean island in the distant past.

The student Simmea was born an Gyptian farmer's daughter sometime between A.D. 500 and 1000. She is a brilliant child, eager for knowledge, ready to strive to be her best self. The teacher Maia was once Ethel, a young Victorian lady of much learning and few prospects. In an unguarded moment on a trip to Rome, she prayed to Pallas Athene – and, in an instant, found herself in the Just City with grey-eyed Athene standing unmistakably before her.

Meanwhile, Athene's brother Apollo – stunned by the realization that there are things mortals understand better than he does – has arranged to live a human life. Now one of the city's children, he conceals his true identity from his peers. For this lifetime, he is prone to all the troubles of being human,.

Then, a few years on, Sokrates appears in the city – the same Sokrates recorded by Plato himself, asking all the troublesome questions you would expect. What happens next is a story only the brilliant Jo Walton could tell – a story of gods and humans and the surprising things they have to learn from one another.

The just city. Photo by Elena.

Simmea

One morning Kebes and I went from breakfast to follow Sokrates around the city as we often did. We found him questioning a worker planting bulbs outside the temple of Demeter. “Do you like your work? Do you feel a sense of satisfaction doing it? Are there some jobs you enjoy more than others?”

“I don't know why you keep doing that when you know they're not going to answer,” Kebes said.

“I don't know that,” Sokrates said. “Joy to you, Kebes, joy to you Simmea! I know they haven't answered yet, but I don't know whether they might answer in the future. I don't even have an opinion on the subject.>

“Everyone knows they're tools,” Kebeb said.

“They're not like tools,” Sokrates said. “They're self-propelled and to a certain extent self-willed. That one is making decisions about where to space the bulbs, precise and careful decisions. Those are going in a row, look, and then that one at an angle. It's deliberate, not random. It may be a clever tool, but it may have self-will, and if it has self—will and desires, then it would be very interesting to talk to.”

“A tree would be interesting to talk to - “ Kebes began, but Sokrates interrupted.

“Oh, yes, wouldn't it!” We laughed and followed him on.

A few months later, early in Gamelion, Kebes, and I were walking along with Sokrates debating one morning when we happened to come back to the place outside the temple of Demeter where the worker had been planting bulbs when Sorkates asked it questions. A set of early crocuses had come up, deep purple with gold hearts. They were arranged in an odd pattern, two straight lines connected by a diagonal and then a circle, Sokrates glanced at them. “Spring after winter is always a joy to the heart,” he said, though he never seemed to feel the cold.

Kebes frowned at the. “It's almost as if – no. I'm being silly.”