thick gates and spitting guards who fear migrants. All this came about after I was in the institution for only a few short years.
Kayana also wondered what Cassander meant by Horseman . She’d noticed that he had not called her a god , and she’d never felt that she was a god. Gods were petty, and only acted in their own self-interest. But everyone here seems to understand the power of Horsemen, she thought. Whatever we are, people open gates for us, and keep their distance from us too.
The van went through. Hellenica spread out before Kayana and she couldn’t believe what she saw. Long walls protected the city, each with turrets of guns, and each with a Spartan mercenary in the tower. The interior of Hellenica was still the same; there were broad streets, single-story buildings with Doric columns, and doors open to the public. But it felt oppressive, quiet.
Hellenica is a city of ideas, not mistrust for the outside, thought Kayana, and they don’t depend so heavily on Spartan mercenaries.
“Quite a bit has changed since you went away,” said Cassander, “and don’t think we’re unaware of our flaws. Not pretty anymore, am I right?”
“Hellenica is not as it should be,” said Kayana.
“By Ninkharsag , you’re right,” said Cassander, his Sumerian accent thickening just a bit. He pulled out his necklace and kissed the small tablet attached to it. Kayana noticed that the tablet was covered in cuneiform.
/***/
Cassander told Kayana to keep her distance from all passersby, and they walked through the streets of Hellenica freely. As they walked, Kayana sensed Hellenica still held a bit of its old self. She heard citizens freely squabbling about philosophy, art and the gods. She was pleased that the coliseum was hosting theater and not war games, and that there were still foreigners walking about. Hellenica had not yet fallen towards complete provincialism and xenophobia.
They passed through an open market that was selling fruits and vegetables from across the conurbation. Kayana saw meter-wide giant mushrooms from the Manitou, honey mead from Little Asgaard, and sushi straight from Dagon’s markets. She also saw a bull about two meters high at the shoulder; a man in a white coat claimed that this was an Aurochs he’d brought back from extinction through genetic modification.
She saw a Mesopotamian man and a Papuan arguing in a public forum about the nature of gods in society.
“Pluralistic societies can exist next to one another,” said the Papuan. “It simply takes a common economy . One never attacks a trading partner, so if the Celts ever went into business with the Apaches, they would be bound together and—”
“That’s simply not true,” said the Mesopotamian, interrupting. “The conurbation has a unified economy, and we’re headed towards civil war as we speak. The gods, if they are really gods , gain power through strife. We’ll be at each other’s throats for the next thousand years, unified economy or not.”
“There’s a human desire for justice, for sanity and for dignity. Over time they will win out,” said the Papuan.
“Justice, sanity and dignity are on the wane, and depravity is on the rise,” said the Mesopotamian. “Many districts have resumed the practice of human sacrifice to appease their leaders. The Celts have their Wicker Men, the Aztecs their blood ceremonies, and even my people, the Mesopotamians, have resurrected their fire pits!”
“Yet we still have a free society within these walls,” said the Papuan.
“And outside these walls our society is crumbling, common economy or not,” said the Mesopotamian. “Our gods are so petty that I would be killed for these words, most likely as a human sacrifice. This is truth and you know it.”
The Papuan nodded, defeated in rhetoric. The crowd dispersed and Kayana noticed that the Mesopotamian took no pleasure in his victory; he was deeply saddened by his own argument.
“Don’t let his eloquence disturb
Kayana also wondered what Cassander meant by Horseman . She’d noticed that he had not called her a god , and she’d never felt that she was a god. Gods were petty, and only acted in their own self-interest. But everyone here seems to understand the power of Horsemen, she thought. Whatever we are, people open gates for us, and keep their distance from us too.
The van went through. Hellenica spread out before Kayana and she couldn’t believe what she saw. Long walls protected the city, each with turrets of guns, and each with a Spartan mercenary in the tower. The interior of Hellenica was still the same; there were broad streets, single-story buildings with Doric columns, and doors open to the public. But it felt oppressive, quiet.
Hellenica is a city of ideas, not mistrust for the outside, thought Kayana, and they don’t depend so heavily on Spartan mercenaries.
“Quite a bit has changed since you went away,” said Cassander, “and don’t think we’re unaware of our flaws. Not pretty anymore, am I right?”
“Hellenica is not as it should be,” said Kayana.
“By Ninkharsag , you’re right,” said Cassander, his Sumerian accent thickening just a bit. He pulled out his necklace and kissed the small tablet attached to it. Kayana noticed that the tablet was covered in cuneiform.
/***/
Cassander told Kayana to keep her distance from all passersby, and they walked through the streets of Hellenica freely. As they walked, Kayana sensed Hellenica still held a bit of its old self. She heard citizens freely squabbling about philosophy, art and the gods. She was pleased that the coliseum was hosting theater and not war games, and that there were still foreigners walking about. Hellenica had not yet fallen towards complete provincialism and xenophobia.
They passed through an open market that was selling fruits and vegetables from across the conurbation. Kayana saw meter-wide giant mushrooms from the Manitou, honey mead from Little Asgaard, and sushi straight from Dagon’s markets. She also saw a bull about two meters high at the shoulder; a man in a white coat claimed that this was an Aurochs he’d brought back from extinction through genetic modification.
She saw a Mesopotamian man and a Papuan arguing in a public forum about the nature of gods in society.
“Pluralistic societies can exist next to one another,” said the Papuan. “It simply takes a common economy . One never attacks a trading partner, so if the Celts ever went into business with the Apaches, they would be bound together and—”
“That’s simply not true,” said the Mesopotamian, interrupting. “The conurbation has a unified economy, and we’re headed towards civil war as we speak. The gods, if they are really gods , gain power through strife. We’ll be at each other’s throats for the next thousand years, unified economy or not.”
“There’s a human desire for justice, for sanity and for dignity. Over time they will win out,” said the Papuan.
“Justice, sanity and dignity are on the wane, and depravity is on the rise,” said the Mesopotamian. “Many districts have resumed the practice of human sacrifice to appease their leaders. The Celts have their Wicker Men, the Aztecs their blood ceremonies, and even my people, the Mesopotamians, have resurrected their fire pits!”
“Yet we still have a free society within these walls,” said the Papuan.
“And outside these walls our society is crumbling, common economy or not,” said the Mesopotamian. “Our gods are so petty that I would be killed for these words, most likely as a human sacrifice. This is truth and you know it.”
The Papuan nodded, defeated in rhetoric. The crowd dispersed and Kayana noticed that the Mesopotamian took no pleasure in his victory; he was deeply saddened by his own argument.
“Don’t let his eloquence disturb
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