And Demo knew not
whether he slept, and all was but a dream. Or, whether, waking,
his mind did dream of dreams.
It had started - as had all his recent adventures - with a
summons from Zeus. And when Zeus spoke Demo felt that, perhaps,
he had indulged in too much of Olympic nectar.
"Boy, the world is not what it seems. Look around you. What do
you see?"
The question, of course, was purely rhetorical. Zeus went on
with no hesitation.
"You see Olympus, of course. And, if you had my powers, you
might look down and see earth. Or even let your gaze penetrate
to the nether kingdom of my brother, Pluto. With a little more
effort Tartarus comes in view. And that, think you, is the
universe. Ah, and that is where you err."
Zeus was plainly morose. He had a problem that bothered him.
And rather than attacking the problem head-on, he was talking
his way around it.
"Ah, indeed, Sire! Just the other day I was telling my mother .
. . ."
"Yes, yes, but what I mean is, there is also the unseen. The
world in transition. It was, and now is not. Yet, in a strange
sort of way, it is. Understand? (More rhetorical questions.) It
will be, eventually; it hasn't become, yet. It's a world in . .
. well, it's a world in transition. And during the transition,
it isn't. Hmmm, very simple, actually. Must make a note of that,
- A world in transition - should go over well at the club."
He reached above his head, unrolled a long papyrus, and jotted
a few notes on the bottom.
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