The Wizard of Karres

about The Voice that even seemed to affect her.

Vezzarn, however, completely declined to even audition, The Voice be damned. 'Not me!' he declared, red- faced. 'Couldn't recite at school, won't do it now.'

Finally: 'House Lights,' said The Voice. The lights came up beyond the stage, showing a tall, gray-haired man sitting in the fourth row back.

As he stood, it was clear that he had a couple of inches on Pausert, and that he had the sort of face that people would remember.

'Miss Hulik, I hope you understand just what Dame Ethulassia is sacrificing here,' he said gravely. 'She is giving over the title role to you, a newcomer, not even a classically trained actress, when it is she who has been the leading lady of our company.'

Pausert wondered if he had been the only one to hear the emphasis on the word 'classically.' Clearly, Richard Cravan was well aware that Hulik was an actress, even if he wasn't sure just what sort of actress she was.

'Believe me, I'm grateful,' Hulik said, sounding as if she were.

'Piff!' said Ethulassia, with an exaggerated wave of her hands. 'I still have Titania, Lady Macbeth, and Portia! And Lady Capulet is not so bad a role, anyway.'

The Great Vamp returned, alas, and The Incredible Bosom underwent another suprahuman transformation. Ethulassia eyed Pausert through lowered lashes. 'I shall be able to play her with that hint of suppressed passion that I've always wanted to do.'

Cravan laughed. 'Well, Captain! I believe that I can assure Himbo Petey that your crew is going to fully pay its way without anyone being relegated to roustabout or janitorial duty too frequently. Dame Ethulassia will see to it that you all have copies of the four plays we will be doing, with my explanations and annotations so that you can understand some of the archaic languages. There will be a prompter in your ear, and as you saw, we have LiteTitles to be sure that if you forget your lines, they will appear before you. They can be adjusted so the audience can't see them. Our first rehearsal will be tomorrow morning.'

That seemed to be a dismissal, and Pausert set at example by turning and exiting the stage. He was followed by Goth, and then, belatedly, by the others.

'Commanding sort, isn't he?' Pausert remarked.

Goth wrinkled her nose. 'He didn't even consider that any of us might not want to be in his plays.'

'Of course he didn't,' said Hulik with a smile, coming up behind them. 'I've seen his type before. Born actors, and he simply can't even imagine that anyone in his right mind wouldn't wish to be on the stage.'

Goth didn't seem put out, though. 'As long as it means less sweeping, I'll learn to like it well enough.'

'If it means less playing the fool, I'll definitely like it,' said Pausert.

* * *

When the Petey B lifted off, Pausert scarcely noticed. He was used to the roar and acceleration of his own ship; but, of course, a delicate structure like the lattice ship could not take such stresses and so was using obsolete but still perfectly functional Orris-Jawl engines. The Petey B simply elevated, as gracefully and slowly as a puff-seed.

Slowly was indeed the hallmark—no fast getaways here! They took hours to get into space, with the ground of Vaudevillia slowly growing farther and farther away. Pausert would have liked to watch, but he was too busy.

When he wasn't learning his parts for the plays or rehearsing them, he was practicing his escapism, or he was dragooned into any one of a number of odd jobs that called for strength. Over the course of the Petey B's return to space, for instance, he could have been found moving and stowing cargo, bracing a ladder for one of the riggers in the 'Big Top,' or helping that same rigger haul up the net for the aerialists.

That experience was enough to convince him that 'actor' was indeed the best job he could ask for on the ship. Truth to tell, he was hoping he wouldn't even have to spend too much of his time on Sideshow Alley.

So, he was pleased to discover that he had parts in all four of the new plays that Cravan's company was going to perform: He was a character called 'Bottom' in A Midsummer Night's Dream, Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, a servant called Launcelot in Merchant of Venice, and King Duncan in Macbeth.

Goth and the Leewit were particularly taken with Macbeth, for, with some amusement, Sir Richard had cast them at their own request as two of the three Witches. He had no idea why they wanted to play Witches, until at the first rehearsal, Goth played more of her light-shifts and levitated the potion ingredients into the huge cauldron, adding a very interesting bit of 'business' to the scene.

Cravan said nothing more than 'hm,' but he agreed that they could have the coveted roles, and added Hantis as the third Witch. Since this also meant that none of them would be doing as much mucking-out for the animal- trainers, they were delighted.

Pul wasn't delighted at all. True, no one expected him to do any mucking-out work. But he was beginning to darkly suspect that he'd soon be consigned to the mucking end of the business—locked in a stall himself, as if he were a mere animal! Fortunately for the limbs of all concerned, he stopped growling and baring his teeth after Sir Richard allowed that the Bard's Sacred Work could be tweaked enough to permit one of the witches to have a familiar.

Pausert was sorely puzzled by the Dame. She was almost two people: One, flamboyant and flirtatious—and still making sly innuendos regarding 'service'—outside the theater; the other, when inside the theater, was serious, careful, and clever, treating everyone with respect and Sir Richard with near-veneration.

He said as much to Goth and Hantis.

'She's an actress,' Hantis replied immediately, as if the answer was self-evident. ' 'Actress' with a capital 'A.' '

'Well yes, but—'

'So, she doesn't confine her acting to the stage.'

He thought about it. 'But which one is the act?'

Hantis smiled but didn't answer the question. Goth just sighed, shook her head, and started muttering. Pausert didn't quite catch it all, but some of it sounded like: stupid useless klatha . . . oughta be a way to get older quicker . . . it's not fair . . .  

The Leewit joined the clowns—or 'joeys,' as they called themselves—fitting in as if she had been one all her life. A group of four, alike as clones, took her into their tumbling act, making her into a kind of human ball that they tossed about. Oddly enough, the Leewit didn't seem offended by the business. The captain was surprised. As a rule, he would have thought, the Mistress of the Universe does not take well to finding herself the Beach Ball of the Galaxy.

Himbo Petey was certainly much happier about it. A little girl being tossed about he could understand; real witches he couldn't.

But however much Himbo was puzzled by Pausert and his companions, it soon became obvious to the captain that he didn't understand the thespians at all. He truly didn't understand the plays that Sir Richard was putting on, or what motivated them to do it.

Pausert walked in on the tail end of one of his arguments—his, because it was entirely one-sided. Sir Richard might look as if the Showmaster was about to drive him mad, but he clearly wasn't going to budge.

'But the audiences won't like it if the lovers are dead in the end!' Himbo protested unhappily. 'They'll walk out! Wait and see!'

'By the time they walk out the play will be over, Himbo. So I hardly see where it matters.'

'But why can't you change the ending?'

'Because then it wouldn't be a tragedy, would it?' Cravan waved a playbill under Himbo Petey's nose. 'Look there—it's in four colors and full process: The Great Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet. I hardly think that the audience is going to arrive expecting