“Well, I was for many years,” I said, “but if I haven’t paid my dues in twenty-five years they may have dropped me from the rolls.”

“Then there really is such an organization?”

“There was,” I said. “I can only hope there still is.”

“And they believe…”

“That man should trust the evidence of his senses,” I said, “which make it very clear that the earth is flat.”

“How can you possibly believe that?”

“And how can you possibly believe otherwise? Oh, I know how entrenched the globularist heresy has become, but-”

“But to believe as you do now, after men have walked on the moon. Or was that…”

“After my time?” I shook my head. “The moon walk happened three years ago. Well, more like twenty-eight years ago, come to think of it. I could explain it in Planoterrestrial terms, but I don’t expect it would convince you. Anyway, the real point of the Flat Earthers hasn’t got that much to do with the shape of the planet. It’s philosophical, and it’s about trusting one’s own interpretation of evidence and not…”

“And not what?”

“And not swallowing everything the Establishment tells you. The only reason you believe the world is round – or spherical, really – is that’s what they told you in school. And the only reason I believe I spent twenty-five years colder than a welldigger’s ass in the Klondike is because you told me so. Now I can’t imagine why you’d want to lie to me, and I don’t think that’s what’s happening, but I’d feel a lot more in tune with my Flat Earth principles if you could show me some supporting evidence.”

He started to say something, then decided to humor me and slipped out of the room. The woman asked if I really thought they were making this up to fool me. I didn’t, and told her so. “But if I see something concrete,” I said, “it’ll help me believe it.”