"Max, do you believe in me?" he asked. "Do you believe that I knew
about Khalid's assassination a month before it happened?"

"It's a horribly hard thing to believe," Pottgeiter admitted. "But,
dammit, Ed, you did! I know, medieval history is full of stories
about prophecies being fulfilled. I always thought those stories were
just legends that grew up after the event. And, of course, he's about
a century late for me, but there was Nostradamus. Maybe those old
prophecies weren't just _ex post facto_ legends, after all. Yes. After
Khalid, I'll believe that."

"All right. I'm saying, now, that in a few days there'll be a bad
explosion at Reno, Nevada. Watch the papers and the telecast for it.
If it happens, that ought to prove it. And you remember what I told
you about the Turks annexing Syria and Lebanon?" The old man nodded.
"When that happens, get away from Blanley. Come up to the town where
Northern State Mental Hospital is, and get yourself a place to live,
and stay there. And try to bring Marjorie Fenner along with you. Will
you do that, Max?"

"If you say so." His eyes widened. "Something bad's going to happen
here?"

"Yes, Max. Something very bad. You promise me you will?"

"Of course, Ed. You know, you're the only friend I have around here.
You and Marjorie. I'll come, and bring her along."

"Here's the key to my apartment." He got it from his pocket and gave
it to Pottgeiter, with instructions. "Everything in the filing cabinet