Plato's Lost Dialogue

Ten men sat round a golden table.  Some had travelled a long distance to the Citadel and the meeting had been long and arduous.  They were tired and the good humour from the start of the day had evaporated and left a residue of resentment and frustration. “He must be offered as a sacrifice!” “Don’t be a fool, Klemides.” “The Order requires it.” “The Order says nothing of the sort.  In fact, the Order requires a majority for any State killing and I will never agree to such folly.” “You would risk the wrath of Poseidon?  For the Middling?” “It is a sign from Poseidon and you wish to slaughter him.  How many have survived the mouth of the storm?” “Nesta has a valid point.  There are no records of any survivors.” “We’ve all heard stories of survivors.  Whether or not there’s any truth in them is another matter.” “They’re just stories to entertain the children.  I agree with Klemides.  The Middling must be sacrificed.  We cannot ris...

"But...why?" It's a question I must hear at least 200 times a day from my three year old daughter.  She's not happy with my response until I've dug up the root of the answer and waved it in her face. Whilst it might be tiresome, it's also a question which any writer has to constantly ask of themselves: "But why?" I spent a lot of time asking that question before I started my novel.  Years, in fact.  I had a lot of answers floating around in my head.  All of them there.  None of them connected.  Then I started writing, so at least I could start to join the dots together.  For the first 40,000 words or so it worked okay (the opening chapters are focused on two main characters whose backgrounds and motivations are entrenched in my mind).  Then, as a raft of new characters entered the fray, I found myself wading through treacle.  Why are they anti-establishment again?  Why would they risk their life for that?  Why would they know eac...