by Jack Vance
“Ha, ha!” cried Dame Isabel. “This of course is what I have been telling stupid folk who cavil at Adolph Gondar and the Ninth Company!”
Bernard Bickel smilingly shook his head. “A different matter entirely! Agreed that the diatonic scale is a universal tool, like hinges, or the bowline, or the Pythagorean Theorem, the case of the evasive Adolph Gondar is something else again. No —” he held up a remonstrative hand “— do not accuse me of inconsistency. I merely find it hard to believe that the musical symbols and conventions of an alien race — as this ‘Ninth Company of Rlaru’ purports to be — could mesh so neatly and completely with our own as to affect us emotionally. Is this not reasonable?”
“Very reasonable,” said Dame Isabel. “So reasonable as to indicate a flagrant fallacy in your chain of logic. The facts are these. I personally have sponsored Mr. Gondar. I am in full financial control of the tour, and I am not a woman to be fooled.”
Bernard Bickel laughed. “In that case, I must review my thinking and seek out my ‘flagrant fallacy’.”
“I suggest that you attend a performance,” said Dame Isabel. “You may, if you like, join me in my box at tomorrow’s performance.”
Bernard Bickel said gravely, “I shall look into my appointments, and if at all possible, I shall do so.”
But Bernard Bickel was never to enjoy a performance of the Ninth Company of Rlaru from Dame Isabel’s luxurious box. During the night the entire Ninth Company vanished — completely, without trace or clue, as if they had dissolved into thin air.
Chapter II
Roger Wool, after flying Dame Isabel to her beautiful old home Ballew, overlooking Ballew Valley, had elected to spend the night, rather than return to his apartment in the city. Hence he was present when Holker the butler placed the visiphone on the breakfast table with a murmured: “Mr. Gondar, madame. An urgent message.”
“Thank you, Holker.” Dame Isabel pushed down the key, and Gondar’s face appeared on the screen. His eyes were more brooding than ever; his expression was remote, with no trace of the exuberance to be expected of an impresario.
“Well, Adolph?” inquired Dame Isabel. “What is the trouble?”
“It’s simple enough,” said Gondar. “The Ninth Company has disappeared.”
“Disappeared, you say.” Dame Isabel gave Gondar a long thoughtful glance; and Roger reflected that Bernard Bickel’s remarks had possibly carried more weight than Dame Isabel had allowed. “Exactly what are the circumstances?”
“After last night’s performance I escorted the troupe up to the theater penthouse. They fed themselves and seemed comfortably settled for the night — although I must say they all seemed rather excited — almost mischievous. I’d promised them an excursion — a sail on Mr. Saverino’s yacht — and I assumed that this was behind their excitement … This morning — they just weren’t there. The porter had allowed no one to leave by the street exit, the deck attendant swears no air vehicles arrived or departed.”
“This is a serious business,” said Dame Isabel. “One in which my personal reputation is involved. I must say that I am not completely satisfied.”
“You’re not?” growled Gondar. “Why shouldn’t you be? You’ve got every cent we’ve made over the last three months. You’ve no cause for complaint.”
“It appears that my precautions were absolutely in order. As you know, there has been a certain amount of cynical speculation regarding the authenticity of the troupe. I have always ignored it, but now I am forced to wonder exactly why, and exactly how, the troupe disappeared.”
Gondar’s dour expression never changed. “I will be happy to end our association,” he said. “You need merely turn over to me my money.”
“I will do nothing of the sort,” said Dame Isabel. “I insisted on the arrangement for just this reason: that if ever there were a suggestion of fraud or trickery, I would be in a position to refund all money involved. As of now, I am not satisfied. You have told me very little of the planet ‘Rlaru’, and before I release any funds I must be absolutely sure of my position.”
Gondar gave a grudging nod. “Will you be home this morning?”
“In the face of an emergency like this, naturally.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour.” The visiphone went dark. Dame Isabel turned to Roger with a snort of dissatisfaction. “Sometimes it seems that all the world is false and coarse.”
Roger rose to his feet. “Since I have an —”
“Sit down, Roger. I will need you here.”
Roger resumed his seat.
Adolph Gondar was presently announced by Holker. He wore a somber suit of dark blue with white piping and scarlet gores at the waist, a loose dark blue cap with a spaceman’s emblem. He carried a small case which he set to the side.
“Will you take coffee?” asked Dame Isabel. “Or do you prefer tea?”
“Neither,” said Gondar. He looked at Roger, then strode forward, to stand across the table from Dame Isabel, who this morning wore a handsome robe of lace and blue satin. “Sit down, Mr. Gondar, if you please.”
Gondar drew forward a chair. “I feel,” said Gondar, “that I should have my money. I have performed according to the terms of our —”
Dame Isabel said, “This is what I wish to determine. Our agreement includes a guarantee against ‘misrepresentation, inaccuracy or suppression of fact’. I have meticulously observed these conditions —”
“And so have I!”
“Complete frankness has not existed. You have practised a studious secretiveness, and withheld so much significant fact that I consider our agreement vitiated.”
Gondar recoiled in shock. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that our agreement is void. I refuse to release the money which has been earned by the troupe.”
Gondar’s face became pale and set. “I told you nothing but exact fact.”
“But have you told me everything? Exactly how and where did you recruit the Ninth Company? Why did they disappear? Where are they now?”
Gondar chose to answer the last question. “In my opinion they’ve returned home.”
“To ‘Rlaru’?” Dame Isabel’s tone was skeptical.
“Yes. How I don’t know. These people are adept in all sorts of techniques and sciences we know nothing about. I think they just decided to go home and went.”
“By some psychic process, I presume?” Dame Isabel’s voice dripped scorn.
“I wish I knew. I’d use it myself. On Rlaru I’ve seen things that I can’t describe — musical productions which are absolutely overwhelming. Operas, I suppose you’d call them.”
Dame Isabel’s interest was aroused. “What sort of operas? Like those of the Ninth Company?”
“Oh no. The Ninth Company is a — well, not exactly a comic troupe, but their repertory is what we would call light.”
“Hmmf.” Dame Isabel gazed out the window for a moment or two. “What inducements did you offer the Ninth Company to persuade them to visit Earth?”
Gondar in his turn became thoughtful. “I was on Rlaru for about four months. I learned something of the language. When I saw the quality of the performances, I mentioned that on Earth we had similar activities, and that perhaps we could effect a cultural exchange program.” Roger started to laugh, then noticing both Dame Isabel’s glance and Gondar’s look of lambent displeasure he quickly quelled the sound. “No difficulties were made,” Gondar went on. “I brought the Ninth Company to Earth, and in due course proposed to take an Earth group to Rlaru. But now —” he held out his hands “— nothing. I am mystified.”
From a silver urn Dame Isabel absently poured a cup of coffee which she handed to Gondar. “You can find the planet Rlaru once more?”
“If necessary.”
Dame Isabel frowned. “There is a disturbing quality to this situation, and it is to our mutual interest to discourage rumors. The company could not have gone off somewhere without notifying you?”
Gondar shook his head.
“In my opinion they have returned to Rlaru, by some means beyond my knowledge.”
“There is a highly developed science on the planet?”
“I wouldn’t say that. Things aren’t quite that simple — in fact it’s a different situation completely. No one seems to work too hard, except maybe the lowest classes.”
“Oh? This is a stratified society then?”
“I guess you’d call it that. At the top are aristocrats, who are also the musicians and pantomimists. Beneath is a kind of middle-class, which also has its artists and musicians. At the bottom is a caste of vagrants, no-talent indigents. If there are any scientists or production plants I didn’t see any.”
“You did not explore very thoroughly?”
“No. I was given to understand that it wasn’t, well, safe, to go everywhere. No one told me why.”
“Well, well. This is highly interesting. Certainly contact between the two planets must be continued. Roger, what is your opinion?”
“I agree, absolutely. No question whatever.”
“The Opera League is meeting tonight,” said Dame Isabel. “I shall report what you have told me, and recommend the cultural exchange program be kept up.”
“All very well,” said Adolph Gondar hollowly, “but what of my money?”
“In due course,” said Dame Isabel. “It is safe and is accumulating interest. Furthermore, you have been remiss — very remiss indeed.”
Gondar seemed puzzled. “How so?”
“You said nothing of our obligation to send a musical group to Rlaru. This is a business which cannot be handled in a half-hearted or slap-dash manner.”
Gondar rubbed his long chin dubiously. He glanced sidewise at Roger, then returned to Dame Isabel. “I’m not so sure that it’s a feasible project — in fact, now that I think of it …”
Dame Isabel’s gaze became stony. “Mr. Gondar, I am never ambiguous nor untruthful, and I demand that everyone I deal with act in a similar manner. You made the assertion that the Ninth Company of Rlaru came to Earth as half of a cultural exchange scheme.”
“Yes, of course, but —”
“Is this statement true or is it untrue?”
“Naturally it’s true. However —”
“If it is true, the obligation is definite. Also — and you will certainly concur, for your reputation is as much under attack as mine — those persons who are attacking our good faith must be refuted. Do you not agree?”
“Yes. Yes, I agree. Definitely.”
“We can serve both these ends by arranging a visit to Rlaru by a group of representative musicians.”
Gondar gave a sour wince. “For reasons of my own I do not care to leave Earth. Not at the present time.”
“Then I can only turn the money I control over to some worthy charity. In no other way can I demonstrate our integrity.”
Gondar thought with great concentration, then heaved a long sigh of resignation. “Very well. Organize your tour. There can be no harm in it.”
“Good. I am sure that the Opera League will enthusiastically support the project.”
Dame Isabel was mistaken. To her amazement the directors of the Opera League refused any sort of sponsorship to the project. “We have our dignity to consider,” said Stillman Cordwainer, the chairman. “I have it on reliable authority that Adolph Gondar is a mountebank. In my opinion we should repudiate him completely, and in the future use more caution.”
“I agree in every respect,” declared Bruno Brunofsky. “Next we’ll be asked to sponsor a troupe of dancing bears.”
Dame Isabel spoke in her iciest voice. “It is clear that the Directors have decided to scamp their responsibilities. I consider the policy of the Board insipid, sterile, callous and stupid; I have no choice but to tender my resignation, effective as of this instant. I myself shall undertake responsibility for this tour to Rlaru. If you will elect a new Secretary-Treasurer, I will turn over all my documents and accounts.”
Chapter III
When Roger Wool read of his aunt’s plans in the morning newspaper, his first emotion was astonishment; his second, dismay; his third, a blind instinctive urgency to act before it was too late.
Holker answered his visiphone call and placed him in contact with his aunt who sat at her escritoire looking through programs and memoranda. In a falsely jocular voice Roger called out, “Aunt Isabel, have you seen the papers? They’ve published the most ridiculous report!”
“Oh?” Dame Isabel hardly looked up from her work. “We must have Biancolelli. And Otto von Scheerup.” Then to Roger: “Yes, what were you saying?”
“The newspapers,” said Roger. “They’ve printed the fantastic rumor that you’re going off on a musical tour of space — something completely foolish. I really think you should sue, on grounds of — of —”
“Of what, Roger?”
“Scurrilous defamation — holding up to public ridicule —”
“Roger, please stop sputtering. The articles are accurate in every respect. I indeed plan to organize an opera company and take it to Rlaru.”
“But — think! The expense, the difficulties! There must be at least fifty people in an opera company —”
“I believe that we can do nicely with seventy-two or seventy-three. The company must necessarily be versatile, with all ancillary personnel willing and able to take minor parts.”
“But a whole spaceship would be required; a crew, supplies —”
“I have interested my friend Admiral Rathelaw in the project; he will provide a suitable ship at realistic charter rates. This is the least of the difficulties.”
“But you can’t just go barging off into space like that! Think of the danger!”
“Nonsense. Mr. Bickel encountered the most cordial reception everywhere. You read far too many sensational novels, Roger; you obviously need an outlet for your energies: perhaps a job.”
“Seriously,” said Roger, “you have no idea of the problems, the detail, the headaches —”
“I will naturally hire competent persons to deal with these matters.”
“But the expense! Such a venture will cost millions!”
Dame Isabel shrugged. “I have ample means. When I am dead, what good is my money to me?”
Roger could not argue otherwise. As his aunt’s closest relative, he presumed himself her heir, and the money she planned to squander on this extravagant expedition in a certain large sense was his own.
“We might even find ourselves turning a profit,” said Dame Isabel cheerfully. “I certainly do not plan to confine our performances to Rlaru. I have strong convictions regarding the universality of music, and Mr. Bickel’s description of the furry creatures listening to his record-player moved me deeply.”
Roger started to speak, then thought better of it.
“My ideas are long-range,” Dame Isabel went on. “We all recognize that the folk of the far planets often lack our musical perceptions; nevertheless any start we can make, any spark we can strike, may eventually lead to the most dramatic musical events: was it not Mr. Bickel himself who suggested that from just such people may come the powerful new musics of the future?”
“I thought you considered Mr. Bickel’s opinions superficial,” said Roger wearily.
“Everyone is entitled to his own point of view. Mr. Bickel speaks at least with the authority of wide research, whereas gentlemen like Mr. Thorpe and Mr. Seaboro have learned all they know by listening to each other.”
Roger made a disgruntled sound. “I certainly wouldn’t put any faith in Adolph Gondar. What, after all, do you know of him?”
“I know that he must cooperate with me or never touch a penny of his earnings. And while we are on the subject of earning, it is high time that you settled into some sort of career. Yesterday I was called upon to settle several of your accounts. I make you a liberal allowance and I find this extravagance inexplicable …”
Roger finally was able to end the conversation. Glumly he pondered the future. He was more or le
ss inured to Dame Isabel’s eccentricities, but this affair was more monumental, more thorough-going than mere eccentricity; it was — Roger dutifully expunged the word.
What of his own position? Work. A job. Trifling remuneration for hours of his valuable time. It might become a matter of absolute necessity; Dame Isabel might well spend everything she owned on this most grotesquely expensive of caprices … Roger thought of Bernard Bickel. If anyone could dissuade her, it would be he. Roger called Bernard Bickel’s room at the Nomad Inn.
Bickel took the call. He would be pleased to receive Roger, and there was no more convenient time than immediately.
Roger rode an air-bus to the Nomad Inn. Bickel met him in the lobby, and suggested coffee in the nearby Star-farer Lounge.
Once settled, with coffee and a tray of cakes, Bickel turned an inquiring eye upon Roger.
