"May he illumine us all," replied the barkeep. "I've heard nothing much, seaman. Just about the same as yesterday.'' It was the common reply, and meant nothing. If there was any news, it was yet to come. "That will be one piece and two," he went on, setting down the tankard of foaming brew.
"One and two?" Norvis repeated in surprise. "That's rather cheap isn't it?"
The barman nodded as he took the money. "It is. A tankard has sold for one and six as long as I can remember. My father, great be his name, sold it for that, and so did his revered fathers before him. It covered expenses well. But now, with the peych-bean selling so cheaply, making the brew is cheaper, too. Others cut their price, so I had to as well. But it doesn't matter; the profit's the same, and that's all that matters."
Then he paused and looked toward the north. "News from Gelusar? There is some,.! think. There have been more farmers who have lost their holdings all over Nidor, of course, but most of them have been around the Holy City. However, it's been said that the Elder Grandfather Kiv peGanz Brajjyd is still holding out. He won't use the new fertilizer-stuff on his own farms; he says it's not according to Scripture." The barman grinned. " 'Course, he hasn't said anything about it in the Council. I dare say he ain't intending to get the other elders riled."
"I've been at sea for four years," Norvis said. "How come only the Elders get the whatever-it-is?"
"Oh, it's not just the Elders. There are others who are getting some of it, but not many. Seems as though the stuff was invented by one of the Elder Grandfathers' nephew, or some such. Anyway, it took a lot of money to build the equipment to make it, so this Elder got some of the others together, and they chipped in to back the boy. The understanding was that they could get first crack at it, and what money they made would be used to make a bigger plant so the other farmers could get the stuff, too. It's a long-range plan, of course, but it's a good one. After all, I understand there was difficulty three hundred years ago, when they brought the steam engine in. It'll take time, that's all. Just time."
"I suppose so," Norvis agreed. So Grandfather Kiv peGanz is still holding out, eh? Interesting.
He finished his beer and laid coins on the bar. "Here you are, barman. That's the extra four you should have made."
"May the Great Light illumine you, sir." He scooped the coins off the bar with a practiced hand as Norvis strode out of the bar.
Norvis spent the rest of the time before the riverboat left walking the streets of Tammulcor, thinking over what he'd learned. So little snot Dran peNiblo was in business now, eh? Making himself quite a pile, too, no doubt. And by stealing another man's work!
Well, we'll see about that, me buck! The Earthman, Smith, was pulling a fast one on all of Nidor. Of that, Norvis was sure. The setup was obvious. What they intended to gain, he didn't quite know—but then, who could ever figure out how an Earthman thought?
According to them, they had all come from Heaven, the abode of the Great Light, but Norvis wondered if they might not have come from the Outer Darkness— the Edge, far out across the Eternal Sea, where the sky met the water. Weren't there demons out there, according to Scripture?
Demons or not, whatever and whoever they were, they were trying to ruin the old, tried-and-true ways of Nidor. By giving the growth hormone to the Elders, they were running the little farmer out of business and making the Elders richer. It was all right for a man to make money, and a monopoly was all right, too, but not when it threatened the lives of thousands of little men.
Something would have to be done.
When the riverboat arrived in Gelusar, Norvis peRahn no longer looked like a sailor. He was just another well-dressed middle-class citizen. After he found a small room in a hotel, he took a walk toward the capital's produce district, where the great peych-bean warehouses were. There, he could find out more about the situation.
It didn't take him long to find out; he could hear the hubbub all up and down lower Temple Street.
Farmers with deest-carts loaded with threshed peych-beans were blocking the street, straining, sweating and swearing. He could see how it would be on Chilz Street, where the cut stalks were taken, or in Yorgen Square, where the long, fibrous leaves were pulped and made into cloth.
Pushing his way through the throng, he headed toward the Trading Building. There was a great deal of milling about, but Norvis' attention was caught by a large group of men who were listening to a red-faced peasant talk in an emphatic voice.
"I tell you," said the peasant, "something's got to be done! We'll have to petition our Elders—all of us! We're being ruined! I'm sure the Elders will change their minds when they see what's happening here!"
A chorus of "Yeas" went up approvingly.
"It would be different if things were getting better,'' he went on. "But they're not! They're worse! Two years ago, when I brought my crop in, they said the warehouses were full—-full! And for thousands of years, our warehouses have only been seven-tenths full! They refused to buy, except at a lower rate! 'A quick sale,' they told me, 'so we can unload the warehouse.'
"But they haven't unloaded! This new thing the Elders are using makes the beans ripen earlier, so they sell their crop first! It just isn't fair, I tell you!"
"What should we do, Gwyl peRob?" shouted one of the crowd.
"Petition! That's what! We must all get together! They'll understand!'' He nodded his head vigorously.
"All right," said another, "we'll petition and ask them to reconsider their plans. I'm a Sesom! Who'll go with me to speak to the Elder of our Clan?'' Several of the crowd moved off with him, and another man stood up and declared his Clan as well.
Finally, Norvis stood up. "I'm no farmer," he said N loudly, "But I'm a Brajjyd! And I say the Clan must stand together! I'll go with you!"
"Who are you?" It was the red-faced speaker, Gwyl peRob.
"My mother's father is Elder Grandfather Kiv peGanz Brajjyd," Norvis said evasively.
"Good, Clansman!" said Gwyl peRob Brajjyd, "You'll be our spokesman, then! Come, we'll round up others, too!"
It took two days for the committee to get an audience with the Elder Grandfather. None of the farmers paid any attention to the name "Norvis peRahn" when its owner finally admitted to it, and he decided that all the scandal about his dismissal from the School had either not penetrated to the farming class, or else had simply been forgotten.
But he knew Grandfather Kiv peGanz had not forgotten. When the two days, which Norvis had used for private investigations of his own at Dran peNiblo's factory, were up, and the acolyte took Norvis and his little delegation into Kiv's study, the look on Kiv's face had none of the friendliness one might expect from one's mother's father. Norvis met Kiv's cold glare for a moment, and seeing that four years had not altered the old man's sternness, he knelt in the ritual bow.
"The peace of your Ancestors be with you always,'' Kiv said. His voice had no warmth in it.
"And may the Great Light illumine your mind as He does the world. Ancient Grandfather,'' said Norvis. He stood up. "How is my mother, Grandfather Kiv?" He wished, suddenly, that he had gone to see her; perhaps—
"What do you want?" asked Kiv bluntly, ignoring the question.
Just as bluntly, Norvis replied: "I want to talk to you about this hormone business. I want you to talk to your fellow Council members. You've got to show them what this new hormone is doing to Nidor."
Kiv smiled delicately. "My fellow Council members are well aware of what they are doing, Norvis peRahn." He paused. Norvis saw that the old man was waiting for the ritual apology; but that was the last thing he would do. The Scripture, Norvis decided, would have to be put aside for the sake of getting something done.