Booner, perhaps you did not hear the question? Again, then.
What does Socrates think his questioning of Meno’s slave
boy, Anytus, will prove to the skeptical Meno?"
I don’t think that Socrates…"
no, no," interjected a wild-eyed Dr. Catania swinging his
arms in what looked like an epileptic fit. "I did not ask
you what you don’t think Socrates thought, I asked
what you do think Socrates thought about this."
remembered how he stammered, his mind racing to find even a small fragment of a plausible
answer. The great owl folded its blue cardigan wings and a
scowl slowly replaced the perpetual smile. Alec heard himself
answering that "Socrates thought the slave boy was a good
mouse for testing his latest theory of..."
With a jolt of consciousness,
as if Dr. Max had suddenly splashed him with a
pail of cold water, Alec
returned abruptly to the café's patio. Something
was swiftly sailing in for a landing very near where he was
standing. He spun to face a silently approaching sphere.
Without doubt, he knew that what he was watching was not the
result of salt deprivation or the pound of garlic in every Big
Angel. This was something real. And it was new and strange. It
felt like a Distracto Field thing—only without the holo goggles.