Free Space Opera by Jack Vance

not choose to act. For instance, if you costumed your ‘sky-lice’ players to resemble byzantaurs, you’d command a much higher degree of attention.”
    “This is all very well,” protested Dame Isabel, “but where in the world would we scrape up such complicated costumes? Impossible!”
    “I could help to some extent,” said Dyrus Boltzen. He poured more wine and ruminated, while Dame Isabel and Bernard Bickel watched him attentively. “I have in the warehouse,” he said at last, “a number of tanned byzantaur pelts which are destined for the British Museum. They would serve quite well as costumes, or so I would think. If you like I’ll have them brought to your ship. All I ask is that you take good care of them.”
    “That’s very kind of you,” said Dame Isabel. “Mr. Bickel, what is your opinion?”
    Bernard Bickel blinked. “Well — I certainly agree that if our object is to interest the non-Earthly folk of the cosmos in music — specifically, our Earthly music — then we’re going to have to make very earnest and whole-hearted efforts.”
    Dame Isabel nodded decisively. “Yes. That certainly is what we must do.”
    “I’ll send the skins over to your ship,” said Dyrus Boltzen.
    “One more matter,” Dame Isabel put forward. “I have set curtain-time for tomorrow at three hours after noon, whatever this is called by your local time.”
    “Three o’clock,” said Dyrus Boltzen. “Our day is twenty hours and twelve minutes long, so noon and midnight both come at six minutes after ten. Three o’clock should do very nicely.”
    “I trust that you will do your best to see that the byzantaurs come to the performance?”
    “I will do my best, indeed I will. And I’ll get the ’zant skins over to your ship first thing in the morning.” And Dyrus Boltzen raised his glass. “To a successful performance!”

     
    The night was dark. From over the plain and down from the mountain came strange noises: soft hoots, occasionally a far jarring screech, once or twice a mournful fluting. Neither Bernard Bickel nor Captain Gondar could positively identify the source of the sounds, and agreed in ascribing them to lower life-forms of the planet.
    No one wandered far from the ship, though there was an undeniable thrill in moving fifty or a hundred feet away from the off-ramp and standing in the night of Sirius Planet, looking up at the distorted constellations, and listening to the eery sounds.
    Shortly after four o’clock the sky lightened and at five Sirius, a blazing white pellet, rose above the Trapezus Mountains. An hour or two later Commandant Boltzen, true to his word, delivered a jeep-load of byzantaur skins.
    Hermilda Warn, who took the role of Leonore in Fidelio , emitted a gasp of dismay. She turned to Dame Isabel. “You surely do not expect us to wear those things?”
    “Yes, of course,” said Dame Isabel calmly. “It is a concession to the social sensibilities of our audience.”
    Herman Scantling, who sang Pizarro, threw his hands in the air. “Perhaps you will inform me how I can express myself with four arms? And which of the two heads I should use to cover my own? And how, conceivably how, can I achieve a projection behind these wads and folds?”
    “The skins smell quite badly,” said Otto von Scheerup, who sang the part of Florestan. “I think the idea is absolutely ridiculous.”
    Dame Isabel’s mouth became a thin white line. “There will be no argument. There are the costumes for this afternoon’s performance, and I will brook no insubordination. Your contracts are quite specific on this point. You are not required to risk your health; but a certain amount of discomfort must be expected and tolerated cheerfully. I will not put up with temperamental outbursts, and that is all there is to be said on the subject.” She turned to Roger, who stood nearby. “Here, Roger, is an opportunity to make yourself useful. Take these pelts to Mr. Szinc in the dressing rooms and help him