A New York Lawyer in the Court of Pericles
Page 3
I had told Isodemos that I was from across the sea to the west and that in my home cloth like this was available for sale in many locations. This made him happy, but he wanted to know if I could show them how to get there. When I told him that my home was many thousands of miles away, he was less happy.
I finally decided to handle Megakreon just like I had handled all requests for information I didn’t want to divulge. I would stall. Give out information in dribs and drabs. Enough to keep him hopeful, but not enough for him to get the full picture. Who says tax law doesn’t prepare you for real life?
One day, word came that Megakreon would arrive the next day or the day after at the latest. Apparently his ship had been seen at, Sunium, a nearby port.
That night I lay awake late into the night on my uncomfortable bed, planning my strategy. At one point, unable to sleep, I sat up thinking to walk the gallery for some fresh air and to look at the stars (although the air pollution was bad in the city from the constant burning of charcoal and wood, the light pollution was non-existent and the stars were stunning). As I swung my legs down, I kicked my cell, which I had placed under the bed for, more or less, safekeeping. It got me thinking. Isodemos thought I was a god, because of the cell (and my teeth). I was a modern man, steeped in science and technology. Was there nothing I could do to better my position? Something I knew that would help me?
I remember, as a kid, reading Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. In Twain’s book his modern man was suddenly transported back to 5th century England and using his modern knowledge was soon running the country.
Of course, Twain’s hero had all kinds of useful knowledge. He knew the exact time and date of a solar eclipse (which seems unlikely – since solar eclipses occur at different times in different locations, so it’s not the kind of thing you can look up in a book.). He knew how to make matches for fire and how to make a telephone.
What did I know? I knew a lot. I DID know how to make a telephone. At least I kind of knew. I knew that it was based on the fact that a current passed through a moving magnetic field would encode the variations in that magnetic field and transmit them to the other end of a circuit and that speakers made of a flexible cone could amplify the sound.
So, I guessed that given the equipment I could probably develop a working telephone pretty quickly - maybe 3-6 months. But the right equipment was the problem. Telephones needed electricity, insulated wire, magnets (or electro magnets?), paper (for a flexible speaker cone) and other things that wouldn’t exist for thousands of years.
I knew how to generate electricity, by moving something metal through a magnetic field. But again that would need magnets and wire (insulated wire – how long until someone invented plastic?).
What else did I know? I, kind of, knew the formula for gunpowder. Sulfur, charcoal and saltpeter (I’d learned this formula from watching Star Trek, the one where Captain Kirk kills the Gorn with a makeshift cannon). But I had no idea what saltpeter was. Some kind of white crystal I think (and maybe it tastes salty? Captain Kirk identifies it by taste). Not enough information to actually make it.
What else? I was a voracious reader and knew thousands of facts, but nothing that I could think of that would actually help me.
I knew a fair amount of history, but nothing that I could see a way to use. Who cares who will win the battle of Hastings in 1066 (William the Conqueror)?
Hannibal? He was at least in more or less the right time frame. Maybe he had already passed. But really all I knew was that he crossed the Alps with elephants. Who was he fighting? Maybe Rome?
You could make penicillin from bread mold. But there had to be more to it than that. An injection of bread mold seems more likely to kill you than cure you.
I was literally the only person on the planet who knew thousands of things that were the basis of modern life, but there seemed no way to use any of it to my advantage.
I knew atomic theory and chemical theory, the orbits of the planets and the inverse square formula of gravity. I knew how rods and cones in our eyes used opioids to detect light. I knew the theory of evolution. That a feather and a bowling ball will fall at the same speed in a vacuum (9.8 m/s2, thanks Galileo!).
I alone knew that the sun was a giant ball of hydrogen gas compressed under its own gravity and slowly fusing hydrogen into helium and that it would one day explode.
I alone knew that the universe had started as a point of matter with near infinite density and had exploded in a moment 12.5 billion years ago.
I alone knew that the Milky Way, which I saw clearly in the night sky for the first time in my life, was made of stars, like the sun.
And I alone knew a thousand thousand other things. All useless. I couldn’t prove anything, couldn’t make anything, couldn’t do anything.
The Connecticut Yankee had been a king and I was going to be a slave.
I barely slept that night.
Chapter 5
Hydrogen has 1 proton, Helium has 2, Lithium has 3, Carbon has 6, and Oxygen (the part of the air we breathe that is used by mitochondria for cellular respiration (see sections on mitochondria and respiration) has 9. There are many more elements each with its own proton count (see section on protons).
Book of Questionable Facts - 171
The next day the household was tight with tension. Koré was cleaning everything and constantly making me move from room to room so she could work. Isodemos was putting little Philon through his paces making him recite lines from The Iliad. Tros, the manager of Megakreon’s olive oil buying business, had come in from the countryside and was preparing samples of oils and reports.
I was busy worrying. What would I offer Megakreon? How would I keep him from selling me to some worse owner? What exactly would be worse?
I had cleaned my suit and other pieces of clothing (which I had switched for local garb) as best I could (no dry cleaners) and I was prepared to spin him a story.
Unfortunately, I had told Isodemos that my home (and the source of my clothing) was thousands of miles across the western ocean, so I couldn’t promise to lead an expedition.
My plan was simply to stall by saying that I had been separated from my companions who would certainly come looking for me and were themselves cloth merchants who would be happy to trade with him in thanks for his kind treatment of me.
I also planned on showing him my cell phone (I was sure Isodemos would tell him about it anyway), which was a marvel of modern engineering, and even without power would have curiosity value. Its smooth glass screen was a mirror better than anything available locally, and its colorful plastic case would be a completely novel material.
I figured I could play on his greed to gain a couple of months grace and hopefully by the time his patience ran out, I could think of something else…
Megakreon, however, didn’t arrive that day. My anxiety was through the roof. Again, I barely slept, working over my story, looking for errors, ways to make things more attractive. I really didn’t think of anything new, but I basically kept at it all night.
Why, I wondered, was I so anxious to stay with Megakreon? I’d never met him and I had reason to believe he beat his slaves. However, he seemed like a smart business man, not afraid to take a risk (he had bought me, unconscious, just on the off chance that I could tell him where to buy my clothing).
I, of course, saw buying me as a shrewd business move.
I also knew that he let his slaves do side work when time permitted and keep half their wages for personal use or to save to buy their freedom. Isodemos, taught Homer and rhetoric, when Philon was busy with other chores, and Tros had actually purchased some olive oil with his earnings and was expecting a profit when Megakreon returned. I thought I might eventually figure out how to earn enough money to buy my freedom.
While we waited, Tros struck up a conversation with me. I had seen him several times, but we had never really spoken.
He asked me a few questions about myself, where I was from. I answe
red as carefully as possible, feeling that I had divulged too much information to Isodemos and not wanting to offer anything more. After a short while I started asking him about himself.
He had been born in Boeotia to the north, and had been taken as a slave when just a boy of about 10, when his village has been overrun during a battle against the Athenians. His father had been killed in the war and he and his mother were enslaved. He hadn’t seen his mother in over 15 years since they had been sold to different owners.
As he told his story, I was surprised by his lack of anger or bitterness. He seemed to think that this was just the way life was.
He hadn’t originally been sold to Megakreon, but had been sold to a man named Cleanetus who was very rich and owned a large olive orchard outside the city. He had worked on the farm for many years and learned everything there was to know about olives, olive trees and olive oils. The farm had been hard work and the overseer (himself a slave) had had a liberal hand with the whip and the rod. But Tros had been, in some ways, happier there. He had met and fallen in love with a woman, a fellow farm slave and they had a daughter, who was now 7. Cleon, his owner (who had inherited the farm after the death of Cleanetus), had been angry about the child (who was now an extra mouth to feed and who couldn’t work and who might well die before she would be useful) and both he and his wife had been beaten.
He had gotten to know Megakreon through his frequent buying trips to the farm. And one day, about 4 years ago, Megakreon, had approached him, all smiles, to say that he had bought Tros from Cleon and he would now work for him.
Tros, who had been on good terms with Megakreon, asked if he had also bought his family. Megakreon said no. He already had enough household slaves.
“That’s terrible!” I said
Tros shrugged and said, it wasn’t so bad. He still got to see her and his daughter fairly regularly, since he now made buying trips to Cleon’s farm.
But his ambition was to save enough money to buy freedom for himself and his family. He told me how he was buying oil now with his own money and Megakreon was trading it for him.
Megakreon had set his price for freedom at 500 drachmas and Cleon had set the price for his Wife and daughter at 350 drachmas. He told me he was particularly anxious to buy their freedom quickly, because his daughter was a pretty girl and in 3 or 4 years he was worried that a brothel owner might want to buy her.
“How much do you have now?” I asked him.
“I bought 31 drachmas worth of oil, which Megakreon will have sold, and I’m hoping to receive at least 75 drachmas.” He smiled ruefully and continued “of course, Megakreon will take his share and so, I should end up with something like 50 or 55.”
“Maybe you can buy your family first and then yourself.” I suggested, since I didn’t see how he would raise 850 drachmas in a few years.
“Can’t” he said. “A woman and child can’t live alone, and a slave can’t own slaves. Megakreon would have to buy them and be willing to take them into his household, and then I’d have to buy them from him and, probably, pay him for their support, and then it would take forever to finally be free.
“No” he continued, determined. “I just have to earn the money as fast as I can.”
I put my hand on his shoulder and said “Good luck, my friend.”
He shrugged my hand off, now in a foul mood and said “There are no friends among slaves.”
He wandered off. I worried that he was angry with me, but when I saw him later he smiled and gave a small wave.
Late that afternoon, word came that Megakreon’s ship was at the dock and he would be home before dark.
Tros’ story with its casual beatings and sales and re-sales of slaves had raised my anxiety to a high pitch.
Megakreon did arrive just before sunset and the whole household was in the courtyard to greet him. He greeted everyone and gave his son a tight hug. When he came to me he asked my name.
“I’m called Robert” I answered.
He was in a good mood and clapped me on the shoulder and said “Good to see you alive and well Robert. I’m looking forward to talking with you soon.”
Then he stepped back a bit and turning to address everyone he announced “We have a new addition to the household!” and with a sweep of his arm, opened the door to the outside and in stepped a young woman. She looked nervous and keep her head down looking at her feet. Megakreon placed his hand under her chin and raised her head. She was quite pretty and maybe 20 years old. He introduced her as Penelope.
Megakreon took her by the hand and introduced her individually to each one. Then he announced. “As you know, we have been without someone to really manage the household since my beloved wife passed away. Penelope is skilled in household management and will fill that role for us. Koré and Isodemos, you are to give her all the assistance she needs.” Then giving us all a hard look, “Make her feel welcome.”
Then taking her hand again he said “I think she’ll help us all a great deal. I’m hungry! Koré I’ll eat in the men’s room now!”
He entered a room off the courtyard and the rest of us scattered. Koré went to the kitchen, but her face and her muttering showed her dissatisfaction.
I sat in the courtyard for a while, then as darkness fell, I went up to my room.
Chapter 6
The period (time to travel from one extreme to the other) of a pendulum never varies. So, as a pendulum slows down it covers less and less space in the same amount of time. This is useful in making clocks and, probably, for other stuff too.
Book of Questionable Facts - 1547
The next day, I waited to speak with Megakreon, but he (and Penelope) never left his bedroom.
Days passed. I saw him for brief moments, he always smiled and seemed in a good mood, but never wanted to talk to me. He met for a long time with Tros, who left the house soon afterwards to return to the countryside.
Before Tros left, he stop to talk with me.
“I made less that I’d hoped. Only 44 drachmas. I’ll never make it!” Then lowering his voice, “Megakreon says the demand for oil was low and my oil only brought 48 drachmas and his own brought a similarly low price, yet he has his new slave girl (and she wasn’t cheap), and I spoke to a dock slave who says he saw chests of luxurious fabrics being unloaded. The bastard is cheating me!”
I could see his worry and I shared it. I said to him. “There may be no friends among slaves, but I wish you the best, I have no family of my own and if I can do anything to help you, just let me know.”
He smiled at me and put out his hand “No friends among slaves, but thank you for your well wishes.” Then lowering his voice again, “I’m afraid you’ll have troubles enough of your own soon.”
He turned and left and I couldn’t ask him what he meant, but I was gripped by fear all over again.
More days passed. Isodemos asked me to help him with some of his work, carrying water and wood. It was hard work and I think he was pretty disappointed with how I managed. Eventually he gave me a scroll to read (he had been surprised to discover that I could read), and basically had me stay out of the way (I felt surprisingly upset by my inability to do these basic chores).
The scroll was a history of the Persian wars and was actually quite interesting.
Finally, one day as Megakreon passed through the courtyard he saw me and said, “Ah! Rober! Please come talk with me.”
“It’s Robert”
“Ah, of course. Strange name”
We entered a room off the courtyard where he spent much of his day. There was a table and several beds or couches as well a few three-legged stool. He reclined on a couch and motioned me to a stool.
He had a plate of figs and bread and hard cheese and began eating. He didn’t offer me any.
“So” he began, chewing loudly, “let me tell you a little about your story that you might not know.
“When I came to Athens 9 years ago, I didn’t have an obol in my pocket. I was flat broke when my ship landed.”r />
He gestured around. “Now look at me! Me! Megakreon! I have this fine house, true I have to rent it, but if the law allowed, I could buy one just as nice. I have 4, no counting you, 5 slaves and I’ll let you in on a little secret, soon I’ll be making myself a fine marriage. A damn fine marriage!
“The point” He continued, “the point is I’m a smart business man. Megakreon knows a good deal when he see one and I’m not afraid to act!
“Take you, for example. You were found on the beach by the port of Piraeus. You were insensible. The men who found you, assumed based on your, shall we say, interesting clothes that you were a stranger.
“Isodemos tells me that you speak a strange kind of Greek, and I can hear your accent myself, so, clearly you are a stranger. In the city illegally I assume. Smuggler? Eh? No matter!”
He waved his hand to show how unimportant my status was
“They, the men who found you, were, um, not the best class of men, but I’d had occasion to do business with one of their party in the past.
“They, quite honestly, were looking to find a way to turn a profit on you. The man who had done some work for me, knew that Megakreon was always interested in new and different fabrics and they brought you to me. It was immediately clear to me that your clothing would be worth much.
“If, I say if, its source could be found and profitably traded. But there was some concern that you would die and take the secret with you to hades.
“I’m glad to see that you are alive and well!” He reached out from his couch and slapped me on the knee in what he must have assumed was a friendly manner
“I bought you from them, quite cheaply I think, for just that reason. Who wants a dead slave, eh? But Megakreon sees profit where other men just see a half-dead slave!
“But here you are, alive and well! And thanks to me! But no need to thank me! I’m a generous man! My slaves have nursed you back to health, fed you my food, housed you in my house.”