"And you obeyed," the Elder Leader said. "That's rather presumptuous, isn't it?"
The acolyte swallowed. "He ... he said he had news of a rebellion and would speak only to you."
Nibro thought a moment. He really had no time for every stray country preacher who came along, but this one might prove amusing. Besides, if he had information—
"Send him in," Nibro said.
The acolyte closed the door behind him. A few minutes later, it opened again. Nibro looked up, ready to give a tongue-lashing to whoever had opened the door without knocking. He never gave it.
Before him stood a true Elder. He was tall and lean, almost gaunt, without an ounce of superfluous flesh on his body. The down that covered his body was still of normal thickness, but it had become a pure silvery white. There was an unsettling stern brilliance about his fixed eyes as he stared at Nibro peSyg.
He was old. More than that—he was ancient. He looked as though he had seen everything and done everything and knew everything. Nibro had the peculiar feeling that the old man was laughing at him, although there was no smile on the wise, aged face.
"You are the Elder Ghevin?" he asked. His voice was a deep bass that would have been a credit to a man of thirty.
"I am," Nibro answered. "And you are the man who calls himself the New Lawyer."
The oldster nodded silently and closed the door behind him. When it was closed he said: "Others call me the New Lawyer, Elder Ghevin. I call myself only Bel-rogas peBel-rogas Yorgen." He wrapped gnarled fingers about his staff and looked steadily at Nibro.
The old man had a nerve, Nibro admitted to himself. It would take nerve to call oneself by the name of the legendary Bel-rogas Yorgen who, four thousand years before, had written the Law and part of the Scripture.
"A flamboyant name, Ancient One," he said. "But I doubt whether it is your own."
"Perhaps not," said the New Lawyer, "but I have as much right to it as you have to yours."
Nibro frowned. The old man wasn't quite clear—was that an insult or ...
The old man strode across the room to stand in front of the Elder Ghevin's desk. In one hand he carried a long bronzewood staff, but it was obvious that he didn't need it for support. His robes were cut like those of a priest, but they were dead black instead of the blue which symbolized the color of the sky that surrounded the Great Light at midday.
Nibro leaned back in his chair, realized that it looked as though he were shrinking from the aged one, and leaned forward again. He started to say something, but the Lawyer's voice cut in.
"What my name was no longer matters—nor does yours, Elder Ghevin. True, I went under another name when I studied with the Earthmen, these three cycles past. Now, however, I call myself what I please."
"Well enough," said the Elder Leader. "Now, what do you want with me? I have very little time."
The oldster's glittering eyes met Nibro's. "Just a chat. As one great leader to another."
"You presume, Bel-rogas peBel-rogas."
"The privilege of age," said the New Lawyer. Casually he asked: "How is your new project coming? Having forced an issue in the Council by bribery and blackmail, how have you done with it thus far?"
"What ... how did you—?" Nibro clamped his teeth shut to keep from sputtering.
"About the blackmail? I know many things," the New Lawyer said sonorously. "But enough. Let us get back to the rebuilding of the Temple. You intend to go through with it. But you will fail, Elder Ghevin. And you will not re-unite Nidor."
Nibro spluttered angrily. "I won't? Is there any doubt? Once the Temple is rebuilt, the people will return again to Holy Gelusar as the center of worship. And I will rebuild it. I shall—"
"Who pays?" the old one interrupted.
"The people will contribute as they feel urged to do so by their devout consciences. And the Banks will be instructed to adjust their interest rates so that a greater surplus will be accumulated. The surplus will be turned over to the Council for the purpose of the Temple." Nibro felt vaguely angry at the old one and at himself. He had been put on the defensive and had accepted the role.
A strange smile appeared on the silver face. "You see no farther than the end of your nose, Elder Ghevin. You see today. You do not look at yesterday, and you cannot see tomorrow."
"Tomorrow hasn't happened yet," Nibro snapped in irritation.
"No, Elder Ghevin. But it will happen. And you are powerless to stop it."
Nibro shrugged. "I am powerless to stop tomorrow from happening. I cannot prevent the Great Light from showing His face. But what I do today will have its effect on tomorrow. Surely you agree with that."
"Oh, indeed," agreed the Lawyer. "But keep it in mind that what happened yesterday affected today."
Nibro patted the ends of his fingers on the desk in a gesture of irritation. "You speak in circles, Bel-rogas peBel-rogas. I have little time. Come to the point."
The stern old face did not change. "I know what I know. At the Bel-rogas School, I studied the anatomy of animals and of men. I looked at their tissues under a microscope. I know how they are built and what causes them to grow and evolve—and die.
"Living things are composed of cells, Elder Ghevin. And societies are composed of people. There are similarities, Elder Ghevin—great similarities."
"What in the Holy Name of the Great Light are you talking about?" Nibro said exasperatedly. "I think you had better leave. You're wasting my time."
The end of the New Lawyer's bronzewood staff struck the tile floor resoundingly, making Nibro jump. "I will say what I must say, Nibro peSyg! Listen attentively, so that as much as possible will seep into your well-armored brain!
"I see into tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. I see that and more." He grasped the bronzewood staff with both gnarled hands and leaned forward a little. His voice became softer, almost confidential.
"You know what you're going to do, Elder Ghevin? You're going to have trouble. You'll find that the people won't contribute nearly enough for this project, so you'll put too much pressure on the Banks. None of them will like it. One of them will rebel—refuse to pay.
"So you'll do the obvious thing. You'll get yourself an armed group of men. You'll take the Hundred Men, since they are the most available. And then you'll march to the rebelling province only to find that they resist with greater energy than you expected. More than that, you'll find that the other provinces will pick up the idea. If one can rebel, then all can. And you'll be left with nothing, Elder Ghevin."
"I will, will I?" Nibro's voice held contempt. "And now that you've warned me, what is to prevent me from doing just the opposite?"
"You, yourself," said the ancient succinctly. "You've started it; you'll have to carry it out to the very end. In the first place, you don't believe me; therefore, you will go on with your plans. You will ignore me and pay no attention to my warning."
"In that case, why warn me?"
"Because that enforces it. You will continue your course because you cannot admit that an old fool like myself is right. So you will go on and on, doing your best to prove me wrong." His smile became irritatingly superior. "Even the explanation I just gave will have its effect, you see. Up to a certain point, the process of prophecy is cumulative with a mind like yours."
"You're completely mad!" said Nibro vehemently.
"You think all who tell you the truth are mad. I have simply told you what the consequences of your actions will be. And you'll ignore me. And you'll think you have gone on as though I have never been here.