Time Travelers Never Die - Jack McDevitt [141]
Moses stared at Helen. Dave moved protectively closer to her.
“Of all men,” said Crito, “only you seem to show no concern at its approach.”
Socrates smiled. “Of all men,” he said, “only a philosopher can truly face down death. Because he knows quite certainly that the soul will proceed to a better existence. Provided he has maintained a lifelong pursuit of knowledge and virtue, and has not allowed his soul, which is his divine essence, to become entangled in concerns of the body. For when this happens, the soul takes on corporeal characteristics. And when death comes, it cannot escape. This is why cemeteries are restless at night.”
“How can we be sure,” asked a man in a blue toga, “that the soul, even if it succeeds in surviving the trauma of death, is not blown away by the first strong wind?”
It was not intended as a serious question, but Socrates saw that it affected the others. So he answered lightly, observing that it would be prudent to die on a calm day, then undertook a serious response. He asked questions which elicited admissions that the soul was not physical and therefore could not be a composite object. “I think we need not fear that it will come apart,” he said, with a touch of amusement.
One of the jailers lingered in the doorway throughout the long discussion. He seemed worried, and at one point cautioned Socrates against speaking too much, or getting excited. “If you get the heat up,” he said, “the poison will not work well.”
“We would not wish that,” said Socrates. But he saw the pained expression on the jailer’s face, and David thought he immediately regretted the remark.
Women arrived with dinner, and several stayed, so that the room became more crowded. In fact, no doors were locked, and no guards, other than the reluctant jailer, were in evidence. Phaedo, who is the narrator of Plato’s account, was beside Dave. He whispered that the authorities hoped profoundly that Socrates would run off. “Davidius,” he added, “they did everything they could to avoid this. There is even a rumor that last night they offered him money and transportation.”
Socrates saw them conversing, and he said, “Is there something in my reasoning that disturbs you?”
Dave had momentarily lost the train of the discussion, but Phaedo said, “Yes, Socrates. However, I am reluctant to put my objection to you.”
Socrates turned a skeptical gaze on him. “Truth is what it is. Tell me what disturbs you, Phaedo.”
He hesitated, and Dave realized he was making sure of his voice. “Then let me ask,” he said in a carefully neutral tone, “whether you are being truly objective on this matter? The sun is not far from the horizon and, although it grieves me to say it, were I in your position, I also would argue in favor of immortality.”
“Were you in his position,” said Crito, with a smile, “you would have taken the first ship to Syracuse.” The company laughed together, Socrates and Phaedo as heartily as any, and the strain seemed broken for the moment.
Socrates waited for the room to quiet. “You are of course correct in asking, Phaedo. Am I seeking truth? Or trying to convince myself? I can only respond that, if my arguments are valid, then that is good. If they are false, and death does indeed mean annihilation, they nevertheless arm me to withstand its approach. And that, too, is good.” He looked utterly composed. “If I’m wrong, it’s an error that won’t survive the sunset.”
Simmias was seated immediately to the right of Moses. “I for one am convinced,” he said. “Your arguments do not admit of refutation. And it is a comfort to me to believe that we have it in our power to draw this company together again in some place of God’s choosing.”
“Yes,” said Crito. “I agree. And, Socrates, we are fortunate to have you here to explain it to us.”
“Anyone who has thought about these issues,” said Socrates, “should be able to reach, if not truth, at least a high degree of probability. And I would add, whatever validity may attach to our speculations, that the