Firstlight tomorrow, eh? Quickly he computed the various spans of time. It had been a little more than a day and a half since Kris had been captured; a little less than a day and a half since Norvis had made his mad ride to Tammulcor to rouse Ganz peDel and the army.
Ganz and his men would be coming up the Tammul as fast as they could make their obstinate ships move; they would be in Gelusar in a few hours—certainly long before the scheduled time of the execution. In the meantime, Norvis knew he would have to move quickly.
The trial, Norvis thought, had ended not unexpectedly. Kris was a menace to the Council, and they were happy to be rid of him. Norvis paused on the first step of the Temple, planning what had to be done.
Kris was too important to lose, As a focal point for the rebellion, he was indispensable to the Party. And therefore, steps would have to be taken to save him. Norvis fingered the pistol concealed in his robe and slipped silently into the quiet Temple.
An acolyte stepped forward in the half-darkness.
"May the Great Light illumine your soul," the acolyte said, in ritual greeting.
"And yours," Norvis said crisply, averting his face. "I am here to pray." He indicated a small chapel to the left.
"Very well," the acolyte said.
Norvis entered the chapel. A small lens glittered above. He bowed his head, but no prayers would come. After a few minutes, he rose and looked around warily. No one was in sight.
No one had seen him, either, but the one acolyte—and in this darkness, he would not be recognized. Wrapping his tunic around him, he edged out of the chapel and toward the darkened staircase.
There was the sound of closely-harmonic chanting in the distance as Norvis tiptoed up the stairs toward the private office of Elder Grandfather Kiv peGanz Brajjyd.
Norvis knocked once, lightly, and there was no reply. The old man doesn't bear too well any more, he thought, and knocked again.
"Come in, come in!"
Norvis pushed open the door and stepped through. The old man was sitting behind his desk, glaring steadily in the general direction of the door. It was evident that Kiv's sight was none too good either.
It was hardly surprising. Norvis himself was close to forty; Kiv was probably more than twice his age. The pistol under Norvis' arm suddenly began to burn coldly against his flesh.
"The Peace of your Ancestors be with you, Grandfather," Norvis said.
"May the Great Light illumine your soul, my son."
Norvis stepped closer and bowed. "My name is Norvis peKrin Dmorno, Grandfather. I know I'm not of your clan, but—"
"What is it you want?" Kiv asked impatiently. "How did you get here unannounced? You're one of those Merchant people, aren't you?" Irritably, Kiv began to rearrange papers on his cluttered desk.
"That's right, Grandfather. I'm here to ask for the release of our Leader, Kris peKym Yorgen."
"What! Here to plead for the life of a condemned blasphemer!" Kiv was fiery, animated now. "Out! Away from me!"
"Just a minute, Grandfather Kiv peGanz," Norvis said quietly. He felt almost numb, now, as he watched the silver-bodied Elder rage at him. "Don't be hasty, Grandfather. You know what the Scripture says about haste. 'He who—' "
"Out!" Kiv stormed. "Guard! Guard!"
The gun at Norvis' side was like a stone strapped to his body. He took three quick steps forward and laid his hand lightly on Kiv's wrist.
"Do you remember your daughter, Ancient One? Sindi iRahn Brajjyd?"
"Eh?"
"Your daughter ... your daughter had a son, Grandfather."
The inflection of that last word was unmistakable. Kiv turned, stared dimly at Norvis for a moment, pulled his arm from the other's grasp, and sat down, staring at his fingertips.
"Grandfather?"
"My name is Norvis peRahn Brajjyd," Norvis said. It was the first time he had uttered those words in almost fifteen years, and they sounded strange in his throat. "Do you remember me, Grandfather?"
Kiv seemed to grow even more shriveled as Norvis watched. His lips moved uncomprehendingly. Finally he said: "Norvis peRahn was stoned to death fourteen and more years ago."
"Norvis peRahn escaped. Norvis peRahn dove into the waters of Shining Lake and fled down to Tammulcor, where he climbed back into his convenient alias of Norvis peKrin Dmorno—under which colors he's been riding ever since."
Kiv let the words sink in. "But why?" he asked blankly. "Why have you hidden your name, your—" He shook his head. "Are you Norvis peRahn?"
Norvis folded his arms. "I entered the Bel-rogas School of Divine Law some twenty years ago, the fifth of my family so to do. The first was someone named Kiv peGanz Brajjyd—and his wife, Narla iKiv, My mother and father both were students there. I, too, hoped to graduate from the School, and continue my work in genetics. Unfortunately"—his lips curled bitterly—"I became, instead, the first student ever to be expelled from Bel-rogas. Does this sound like your defunct grandson, or doesn't it?"
"It does," Kiv admitted. "But—"
"But why? Because I'd be dead for real if I hadn't hidden my true identity. Who do you think was responsible for selling that growth hormone all over Nidor?"
"Norvis peKrin—Norvis peKrin and the other one, the sea captain. And all the time it was you!" Kiv's voice was still questioning.
"Exactly. We were duped by the Earthmen into distributing the stuff widely. Our movement has not been wholly successful all the time."
Kiv shook his head bewilderedly. "But ... why have you come here, Norvis?" He seemed still unable to comprehend the fact that his grandson could still be alive after all.
Norvis walked around behind the desk and put his arm around the withered old man. "I've come to warn you against your mistakes, Grandfather."
"Mistakes?"
"You've placed your trust in the Earthmen, Kiv peGanz. I did, too— for a while. Until Smith betrayed me, and I learned the Earthmen are devils come here to destroy Nidor."
"I've heard those words before," Kiv said softly.
"You've never thought about them," Norvis said. "Let me illumine your mind, as the timeworn expression goes, Let me scrape some of the scales from your eyes."
"Harsh words from a young man," Kiv said.
"We're past the point of formality now, Grandfather. Listen to me —listen, for the first time in your eighty years. Listen!"
"Very well," Kiv assented. There was little fight left in the old man now. "I'll listen."
"Do you remember my expulsion?" Norvis asked.
Kiv nodded. "I wish I could forget it."
"And I. It nearly killed my mother, and the stain of it is still on the Brajjyd name. Do you know why I was expelled?"
Kiv searched his memory. "Some scene you made at a public ceremony, wasn't it?"
Norvis nodded. "I had been studying genetics under Smith, the Earthman. After a year of hard work, I had developed a growth hormone. With the connivance of the Earthmen, the invention of the hormone was credited to a thoroughly worthless young man named Dran peNiblo Sesom—long since deceased."
"What happened to him?"
"He was lynched when the hormone he supposedly invented wrecked our economy. It was a fate I escaped, through the good offices of the Earthmen, who were kind enough to heave me out of the School and put the credit—or blame—on Dran peNiblo."
"You say you were expelled falsely?" Kiv repeated. "I believe you raised that charge at the time."
"And how often have you heard it since, from men thrown out of the School for no good cause? The Earthmen have been following some mysterious plan of their own, Kiv peGanz—one that necessitated my expulsion. They're secretly working to destroy Nidor!"