However, Alexander did cross the Indus in 326 B.C. It was the Beas or Hyphasis River that his army refused to cross; after three probably rather unpleasant days, Alexander consented to return to a more westerly portion of the world.
Even more at variance with my story, Alexander had not-in 326 B.C.married Roxane. She was a Sogdian, to be exact, and he married her in 324 at Susa, so that she could not possibly have been with him at the historically crucial moment when he decided to penetrate no farther into India. In fact, Alexander also married Darius’ daughter Barsine in 324 B.C. In 324 he returned to Babylon. He died of fever on June 13, 323. He was thirty-three years old.
In character he was far from the blunt-minded bully my story suggests; in historical fact, my Alexander and my Cleitus put together would have made up a much better facsimile of the historical Alexander.
Perhaps that is the whole point of the story.
J. R.
<
* * * *
* * * *
Ron Goulart writes science fiction with such a ready and easy wit that some people forget that he is a Very Serious Artist, that his stories are rife with symbolism and significance and above all relevance. Of The Romance of Dr. Tanner he says, “This one is about writing a soap opera for lizards and about suburban and domestic problems, United States foreign policy, social ills, the quest for identity and the place of mass media in our society.” His story is about all that and much more—large shaggy apelike nergs, for instance, that carry landcars off into the woods for religious purposes, and migratory animals that thrive on synthetic fabrics, and sujo birds, which like to eat windows. “This planet is very strange,” says his hero. Yes indeed.
THE ROMANCE OF DR. TANNER
Ron Goulart
“Just like I figured,” said the lizard man in the white coat. He puffed on his pipe and added, “Now, here’s my advice to you . . .”
“What will Dr. Tanner tell Jenny? And how will it affect his own tangled love for Nana? You won’t want to miss tomorrow’s dramatic episode ofThe Romance of Dr. Tanner,brought to you by the government of Fenomeno Territory. Good afternoon.” The human announcer smiled and pointed toward the territorial flag on the wall behind him.
Ted Gonzalves, a thin dark man of thirty-one, looked from the second television screen above his tweed-covered desk to the third screen. His willowy blonde wife was there. Ted punched the show sound off and turned up to his wife. “Hi, Nancy,” he said. “Did you watch it today?”
Nancy shook her head. “I had problems of my own today, Ted.” She shifted in the wool living room chair. “First promise you won’t yell or lose your temper.”
His number one television screen flashed on and a nervous, grinning lizard man in a polyester golf suit appeared. Ted said to his wife, “Lazlo Woolson is on the other pixphone, Nan. Hold on.” He punched off her sound and brought in the voice of his immediate boss.
“I thought I told you to scrap the organ transplant stuff,” said the territorial network executive.
“It’s over as of today,” said Ted. “We left Dr. Tanner with one hand in the guy’s stomach at the end of yesterday’s episode. Takes a little time to write him out of some situations, Lazlo.”
“I’ve been golfing with Vice President McKinney and he’s quite.. .”
“Who’s Vice President McKinney?”
“The vice president of the Fenomeno Territorial Network,” replied the lizard executive. “Our boss.”
“What happened to Vice President Reisberson?”
“He left nearly two weeks ago, Ted,” said Woolson. “You writers. None of you keep up. I was attempting to explain that to Baixo only last evening.”
“Him I know. Baixo is the president of Fenomeno Territory.”
“Prime minister,” corrected the lizard man. “He was reshuffled last week, Ted. Don’t you read any of my memos?”
“Look, Lazlo, we’ve been revising Dr. Tanner so much lately I may have fallen behind on memos somewhat.”
“Baixo wants more anti-welfare stuff in our soap opera,” said the network executive. “McKinney wants to see more sex.”
“From who? The lizard actors or the humans?”
“Both,” said Woolson. “McKinney feels, and I had to agree, you missed a good sexy scene when Dr. Tanner had Rosemarie on the couch.”
“That was where Baixo wanted the plug for the new surtax.”
“Dr. Tanner could have fondled her knee while he was outlining the government’s new tax plans.”
“What, and drop the graphs?”
Woolson said, “I have to get over to the clubhouse now, Ted. Think about what I’ve said. I’ll send you a memo.”
Ted looked again at his wife. She had her long slim hands in her lap, fingers entangling. “Promise?” she said as the sound returned.
Ted nodded. “I’m too tired to yell. What is it?”
“The car.”
“Which car?”
“The landcar. The one I use for shopping and errands.”
“What happened, an accident?”
“It was carried off by nergs.”
“Carried off by nergs?”
“If you’re not yelling now, what is that?”
“I was screaming,” replied Ted. “Nergs? Those big shaggy apelike creatures who inhabit the wilds at the edge of the territory. Those nergs?”
“There’s some other kind?” said his pretty pale wife. “Yes, a half dozen of them swooped down on the embassy parking lot and carried our landcar off into the wilderness.”
“What were you doing at the Barnum Embassy, Nancy?”
His wife glanced down at her knees. “I like to look at the photomurals of Barnum. It’s our home planet, after all.”
“You’re not seeing somebody there?”
Nancy began quietly crying. “I don’t mind if you scream and yell over what I do do, but don’t accuse me of what I don’t.”
Ted took a deep breath, frowning briefly at the next soap opera unfolding on his station monitor screen.
“Six nergs?”
“According to eye witnesses,” said his pretty wife. “Nergs don’t drive, you know.”
“Yes, I know that much about this planet. We’ve been here nearly a year.”
Nancy continued, “As I understand it the nergs like to use landcars to build nests in and sometimes for their simple and rather primitive religious rituals. Bryson explained some of their customs.”
“Bryson Jiggs? The associate Barnum ambassador to Murdstone just happened to be wandering around the embassy parking lot and lecturing on the mores and folkways of nergs?”
“No, he came out when he heard the sirens.”
“What sirens?”
“When I heard about the car I fainted and a very pleasant lizard lady accompanied by six very cute little grandchildren she was showing the sights called an ambulance.”
“You’re sure you didn’t go there to meet Bryson Jiggs?”
“Yes, I am,” answered his blonde wife. “Our insurance company says they don’t cover nergs. Because of the religious overtones. So we either have to hire a retrieval service to go into the wilds and bring back our landcar or we have to forget about it.”
“Forget about a $2500 car?” Ted hit his desk top hard enough to make tweed patterns on the side of his fist.
“Or pay a retrieval service $400. I checked. That’s the cheapest anybody will do it for and doesn’t include decontamination, washing or polishing.”
“I’ll think about it,” said Ted, “and we’ll discuss it tonight.”
“Are you going to have to work late?”
“Not beyond eight probably,” Ted told his wife. “I have to write the new government stand on the bombing of Tumulo Territory into the next three scripts, which means either cutting out or revising all the hayloft scenes. I’ll see you after eight. Don’t go hanging around the embassy anymore.”
“How can I? The nergs have my chief means of transportation.” She blacke
d the pixphone from her side.
Ted got up to go and talk to Dr. Tanner.
* * * *
Andy Bock, the round-shouldered green lizard man who played the title role in the soap opera Ted wrote, had a small dressing room in the basement level of the station. Ted found him there in his plaid rocking chair, eating Earth pickles.
“You played the scene in Neva’s apartment exactly right today, Bock,” said Ted as he walked in through the open doorway.
“I spilled a little of the champagne,” said the lizard actor.
“That’s to be expected, since you had to carry those scale models of the new government missile sites under one arm.”
“Just like I figured,” replied Bock.
Ted sat in a herringbone wing chair. “This is the first propaganda soap opera I’ve ever done,” he said. “Sometimes it’s hard to get all the elements to fuse.”
“Yep,” agreed Bock, sucking a pickle.
Ted cleared his throat and felt the pattern of his chair for a moment. “Look, Bock. You’ve been helpful in the months I’ve worked here, one of the few people I can really talk to. I’ve got another small problem.”
The big rounded lizard man placed his pickle on a tweed coffee table and said, “Always glad to listen, Ted, and help if I can. Some folks tell me there’s not much difference between me and Dr. Tanner. Gosh knows we both give out more than our share of free advice. Only difference is, I guess, I don’t smoke a pipe in real life or go in much for propaganda.”
“Murdstone is a pretty wild and untamed planet,” began Ted. “Compared with Barnum.”
“Frontier planet,” agreed Bock. “One reason why our government is a bit tougher than some.”
“At times I have the feeling I’m never going to get used to it.”
“That your problem for today?”
“No,” said Ted. “Nergs have carried off our landcar.”
Bock nodded. “Yep, they do plenty of that.”
“The thing is, we don’t quite have $2500 to buy a new car,” said Ted. “Even though writing The Romance of Dr. Tanner pays more than Hotspur Corners, we still haven’t been able to save too much.”
“Hotspur Corners was the soap opera you wrote back home on Barnum, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, for three and a half years. So, look. Nancy says they’ll charge at least $400 to try and retrieve the damn car. A retrieval service and you never know how long they’ll take. I don’t want to pay the $400 and still I have to lose the car. Nancy says, well, then forget it. I hate to do that.”
“Course you do,” said Bock, nodding. He picked up the pickle and rubbed it along his scaly snout. “Here’s what I figure. No use listening to what your wife says. Women don’t understand gadgets, let alone cars. They just ain’t mechanical minded, are they? Besides, your wife don’t seem like she understands how downright mad incidents like this make you. You got to blow off steam. Wellsir, my advice to you is go into the wilds yourself, take a stungun along. One of them big hunting stunguns. Track them nergs down and bring back your car yourself. That’s my advice.”
Ted thought, his mouth puckered slightly. “You’re right, Bock. There’s no reason to sit still and take every single damn thing. I may have to do what I’m told around here, but there’s no reason to let a bunch of nergs get away with anything.”
“That’s how I figure,” said Bock, swallowing the pickle.
* * * *
Ted’s mother flashed onto the third screen over his desk a moment after he sat down in his felt chair the next morning. “You look all bruised and battered,” she observed.
Ted gave a careful nod of agreement at his squat, wide-shouldered mother. “Some nergs roughed me up, mom.”
Mrs. Gonzalves was in her office at the territory’s other television station. Replicas of all the planets in the Barnum System dangled from thin copper wires over her chintz desk. “I rang up your house last night after my eleven o’clock newscast and Nancy told me you weren’t home yet. This unsettled me. I had just ended my broadcast with my well-known closing tag, That’s the news for tonight, dear friends. Good night to you all and god bless the late Mr. Gonzalves and here’s a kiss for Teddy.’ Little did I realize you weren’t on the receiving end.”
“It’s the first eleven o’clock kiss I missed this month, mom.”
“You miss all the six o’clock news kisses.”
“Look, mom, you helped me get this writing job out here on this wild and untamed planet. So you ought to know writing a propaganda soap opera requires a lot of work.”
“Don’t I have to slant my news scripts every night? That takes hard work, too, but I always have time to send a kiss your way,” said his wide mother. “Why did the nergs do this to you?”
Ted frowned. “Oh, it’s my fault, mom. I was out in the wilderness.”
“Doing what?”
“Looking around.”
“For what, looking?”
“Our landcar. The nergs like to carry landcars off into the woods.”
“I did a documentary on nergs, remember? It won two harlans and a hobie.” She gestured at something off screen. “On my shelf over there. What, did your wife let them walk off with the car?”
“More or less, mom,” said Ted. “I’m late for work today and I should really get going now.”
“Did you get your car back, Teddy?”
“Not exactly.”
“What did you get?”
“I got jumped by seven large shaggy apelike nergs, pummeled and punched and thwacked with hard sticks. Then I got all my clothes ripped off and I got tied up with jungly vines and carried to my home suburb and dropped on my front lawn at ten minutes past midnight.”
“No wonder you didn’t answer my call.”
“Goodbye, mom.”
“Watch at eleven tonight, Teddy.” His mother threw him a kiss and faded from the pixphone screen.
* * * *
Two weeks later on a Tuesday afternoon Ted went to Andy Bock with another problem.
Bock was resting in a rayon hammock and licking a carrot stick with his long thin tongue. “Howdy, Ted. I think we worked the cut in welfare payments business in pretty good today. Mighty nice visual, the real pie representing government expenditures.”
“Seemed to play well,” said Ted, sitting on a silk ottoman.
“Course, I didn’t intend for that piece of pie representing the still quite large share of government funds going to people on relief to fall in my pajama pocket like it did,” said the lizard actor. “Still, if I do say so, I saved the scene pretty good. Long as I been doing The Romance of Dr. Tanner, I still get a mite nervous when I have some current government policy to explain during a seduction scene.”
“You did fine, Bock. I got a call from Lazlo Woolson and he told me this is exactly the kind of polite sexiness President McKinney likes.”
“Is he network president again?”
“Was he before?”
“Might be a different McKinney,” said the lizard man. “But, shucks, Ted, you look as how you got a problem and are maybe in need of some advice.”
“Well, sort of,” admitted Ted. “Actually, I was getting ready to quit the soap opera profession when my contract on Hotspur Corners ran out, back on Barnum. I was thinking about going back into elementary school teaching. I have a degree in Current Events, with a minor in Show & Tell. Bock, this planet is very strange.”
“Takes some getting used to,” agreed Bock.
“Living in the suburbs of Fenomeno Territory is even odder than living in the suburbs on Barnum,” said Ted. “Little invisible animals ate all Nancy’s clothes.”
“Off her body?”
“No, out of the closets. Some sort of migratory animals who thrive on synthetic fabrics. I’ve been wearing naturals since we got here, so they left my wardrobe alone.”
Bock said, “Yep, I heard of them fellers. Folks hereabouts call them zibelinas. As I recollect, however, them zibelinas won’t attack a house as has fol
ks in it. They prefer places where there ain’t nobody to home.”
“Nancy was off looking at the photomurals at the Barnum Embassy again yesterday when they struck,” explained Ted. “The real problem here is our house insurance company says this kind of damage isn’t covered in our policy. See, I never thought to ask for a clause covering little invisible animals who eat synthetic fabrics. Premiums are high enough as it is.”
Universe 1 - [Anthology] Page 16
