Hari Seldon rose as the new Mycogenian approached. He hadnt the slightest idea whether that was the appropriate polite behavior, but he had the distinct feeling it would do no harm. Dors Venabili rose with him and carefully kept her eyes lowered.
The other stood before them. He too was an old man, but more subtly aged¹ than Mycelium Seventy-Two. Age seemed to lend distinction to his still-handsome face. His bald head was beautifully round and his eyes were a startling blue, contrasting sharply with the bright all-but-glowing red of his sash.
The newcomer said, "I see you are tribespeople." His voice was more high-pitched than Seldon had expected, but he spoke² slowly, as though conscious of the weight of authority in every word he uttered.
"So we are," said Seldon politely but firmly. He saw no reason not to defer³ to the others position, but he did not intend to abandon his own.
"Your names?"
"I am Hari Seldon of Helicon. My companion is Dors Venabili of Cinna. And yours, man of Mycogen?"
The eyes narrowed in displeasure, but he too could recognize an air of authority when he felt it.
"I am Skystrip Two," he said, lifting his head higher, "an Elder of the Sacratorium. And your position, tribesman?"
"We," said Seldon, emphasizing the pronoun, "are scholars of Streeling University. I am a mathematician⁴ and my companion is a historian and we are here to study the ways of Mycogen."
"By whose authority?"
"By that of Sunmaster Fourteen, who greeted us on our arrival."
Skystrip Two fell silent for a moment and then a small smile appeared on his face and he took on an air that was almost benign⁵. He said, "The High Elder. I know him well."
"And so you should," said Seldon blandly⁶. "Is there anything else, Elder?"
"Yes." The Elder strove to regain⁷ the high ground. "Who was the man who was with you and who hurried away when I approached?"

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