Norvis frowned. He had much the same opinion of the Earthman-founded Bel-rogas School, but he had scarcely expected to hear it from a priest. Marn must not have gone to the School, he thought.
To test the priest's logic he asked, "But Grandfather—the Earthmen walk and act and speak in the daylight, when the Great Light shines. How can that be?"
"Can't you see, my son? The Scripture is metaphorical in its meaning. The passages are symbolical. They do not mean the darkness of an ordinary night; they mean the Darkness of a lack of morality, the Darkness of a rejection of the Way or our Ancestors, the Darkness of the deviation from the Path of the Great Light."
"I think I follow you, Grandfather. In fact, I'm sure I do." He paused for a moment. These were surprising words to hear from a priest's lips—and evidently it was an opinion the priest had been nursing a long time.
"My position," said Grandfather Marn peFulda, "is this: I believe that the Earthmen are agents of the Great Darkness—in fact, I know them to be so. But I cannot condone the attitude of Del peFenn Vyless, the Leader of your party."
That's no surprise, Norvis thought. The way Del howls for the heads of the Elders, it's a wonder the good Grandfather can keep a civil tongue in his head when he speaks of him.
"I do not feel," the priest went on, "that the proper service of the Great Light includes the throwing-over of His ordained priesthood; it must include only the correction of the evils which have invaded the Council of Elders. And if you were to change the line of attack of your Party somewhat, I ... I might be persuaded to lend some influence of my own."
A reformer! Norvis thought. He could hardly keep from smiling. It was exactly what he wanted—exactly what the Party needed! He had hardly dared hope it would happen.
Priest against priest; liberal orthodoxy against reactionary reformation—nothing could be more suited to his plans.
"Very well, Grandfather," he said, "I'll see what can be done." This interview altered things considerably. He had to leave, now. He wanted to send an anonymous note to Grandfather Kiv, the head of the Council—pitchforking Kiv into action that would set in motion the climax of the plan.
The priest nodded solemnly and raised his crossed forearms in benediction. "May the Great Light illumine your mind, my son, and lead you to the Way of Light."
"May He illumine your mind as He does the world," said Norvis, bowing.
Chapter IV
In his office in Holy Gelusar, capital city of Nidor, Elder Grandfather Kiv peGanz Brajjyd—leader of the Council of Elders of the Sixteen Clans, and traditionally the most powerful man on Nidor sat quietly, staring at the sheet of printed lettering on the desk before him.
He winced, glanced away. In order to dismiss it from his mind for the moment, Grandfather Kiv peGanz lifted his eyes to the window which looked out on the Holy City. There were buildings out there, buildings which had stood for centuries. Some of them had stood for two, perhaps three thousand years.
Gelusar, the City of the Great Light Himself, seemed safe from the corruption of the masses, but—But was it? Was it really safe?
Again he glanced at the note, as though to discover some meaning which was different from the meaning he had read before. No new interpretation came, though. There was none. The words remained the same.
Grandfather Kiv glanced reflectively up at the cloud-laden sky for a moment. Then, leaving the note on his desk, he locked his office and went down to the Temple. He knew he couldn't carry the weight of this decision alone.
The dim vault of the Temple was empty except for a few worshipers here and there, praying among the kneeling benches.
There were less than usual, Kiv noticed, as he made his way down the aisle toward the altar. It had not been like that when he was younger. He could remember long ago, when the Earthmen had first come, the days when the Temple had been steamy with the breath of many worshipers.
He remembered the Hugl Crisis— a crisis that he, himself had caused, more than fifty years before. The people had flocked to the Temples then.
Kiv sighed deeply, His eight decades of life weighed heavily upon him. His daughter, Sindi, had died, miserable and unhappy. His only grandson, Norvis peRahn, had been stoned to death for blasphemy, more than fourteen years before.
He lifted his eyes toward the altar. From the great lens in the roof of the temple, the diffuse rays of the Great Light were focused upon the refracting surface of the stone altar top.
Great Light, he asked, what have I done?
The focus of the Great Light was near the Left Pit. Kiv knelt before the glowing spot, keeping his eyes carefully averted.
O Great Light, he asked again, what have I done?
And this time, he seemed to hear a voice. What have you done? Nothing!
For a moment, Kiv peGanz felt deep relief.
And then the full import of what he had seemed to hear struck him.
Nothing?
Had he done nothing!
Had he neglected to do what he ought to have done?
He glanced at the pit in which the Great Light seemed to burn. It seared his eyes and he turned away. What was it the Earthman, Jones, had called the Great Light?.
A blue-white star.
What it meant, Kiv had no notion, but he had been told it by the blessed Earthman more than five decades before.
For the first time, he raised his eyes to the lens in the roof. And he made a prayer that had never been heard before on Nidor.
"Oh, Great and Holy Blue-white-star," he said softly, "if I have not acted according to Your wishes, if I have not acted at all—then give me the strength to act now."
He paused for a moment, but there was no response.
"I thank you, O Great Light. You have illumined my mind."
Rising quickly, he genuflected and then hastened toward his office. The other worshipers seemed to pay no attention to the old man's coming and going.
Back at his office, he looked once again at the note.
I have done nothing, he thought. I must act.
The note said:
Most Holy and Ancient Grandfather:
It has come to my attention that a certain thief has stolen eight million weights of cobalt from the Bank of Dimay. According to the Law, the vaults of the Holy City of Gelusar must make up any losses of money. But if you do this, and the extra money which has been stolen is spent by the thieves, it will lower the value of all our money.
On the other hand, if you do not replace it, the Bank of Dimay will fail.
What is your decision, Ancient Grandfather?
-
The note was unsigned.
Kiv fingered it for a moment. Can I take the chance? he asked himself.
No. He couldn't. He had to assume that the note was true. If he replaced the coinage in the vaults of the Bank of Dimay, then, when the thief dumped all that coinage on Nidor, every weight would be devalued. Money would be worthless.
Yet, if he refused to replace the money, the Bank of Dimay would be bankrupt, and its scrip mere paper. But the rest of Nidor would maintain its monetary integrity.