XI

Emerging from the momentary paralysis brought on by what they’d seen, several physician-seconds rushed to the aid of the bleeding, sputtering O’o’yan. Others attempted to restrain the interfacer, who was hissing violently as she continued to strike out in all directions.

The bravest rushed the lounge. One O’o’yan threw himself on the native’s left arm. The specimen reacted with a loud moan and threw the technician aside. A Hivistahm caught a foot that sent her tumbling.

Swearing, Caldaq and Soliwik abandoned the observation chamber and rushed to help.

By the time they arrived the technicians had the mesh off the interfacer and were gently lowering her motionless form onto a medical pallet. Chief-of-Medicine himself was squatting over her, carefully running a diagnost around her head. Blood trickled from one nostril, running the length of her snout.

“What happened here?” Caldaq’s tone was short, clipped.

“Truly truly most truly we do not know.” Second-of-Medicine looked stricken.

A technician arrived with a small readout. Caldaq grabbed the device, called up a preliminary interpretation in Massood as someone placed a funnel-shaped respirator over the interfacer’s snout. Gas hissed.

“I cannot make sense of this.”

Second-of-Medicine took the readout and peered through his eyeshades at scrolling information. Delicate fingers made demands of fine switches.

“Look here,” she said, speaking through her translator. “Everything normal at the beginning. Nothing out of the ordinary. Alien but not abnormal sleep pattern.” Nervously she looked over her shoulder at the examination lounge. The Human was still asleep, no longer kicking but still wearing a strange expression. The technicians had managed to remove the mesh from its head.

“Through the usual prescribed stimuli we ran, starting slow and imprecise at first, analyzing and recording as we proceeded. Different species react to different stimuli and in differing fashion.

“As study proceeded and stimuli grew more actively intrusive more atypical reactions we began to note.”

“A difficult observation to argue with,” Soliwik muttered.

“Besides the physical, I mean. Buildups far out of the ordinary. For example, an astonishing increase in cortical electrical activity there was. Right off the chart.”

“What type of stimuli?” Caldaq asked.

How abrupt, how terse. How like the Massood, Second-of-Medicine thought. With a long, slim finger she traced patterns on the readout’s screen.

“A mildly threatening episode, here. See the parallel lines used for comparison purposes? This one would be expected of a Hivistahm, this nearly straight line for a Lepar. This is what we got from the native.”

Caldaq leaned over to examine the jagged scribblings. It was the kind of recording one might expect to take from the mind of an insane sentient. The native Will Dulac was many things, but he was not insane. Yet the readout was real, not an invention. It had monitored something.

“What happened to her?” Soliwik gestured toward the inter-facer, now resting quietly on the medical pallet.

“Truly we do not know yet.” Second-of-Medicine regarded her unconscious colleague with concern. “Preliminary diagnosis is cataleptic shock.”

Caldaq’s nose and ears were twitching sharply. “From what?”

The Hivistahm craned her neck to look up at the towering Massood. “In the absence of alternative explanations, one must assume it involves the feedback she received from the native. Still checking we are, but thus far nothing to indicate mechanical failure was involved is there.

“Whatever the actual cause, the result was an incredibly violent episode. Chief-of-Medicine says she has never witnessed the like.”

“Neither have I, but then I do not spend much time in labs.” Caldaq tapped the readout’s screen. “The native insists it and its kind are peaceful creatures. Can it have been lying to us outright?”

“Possibly, but if it had something it wished to hide from us I do not see why to these tests it agreed to submit.”

“I see no explanation for the contradiction,” Caldaq muttered.

The Hivistahm looked thoughtful. “At the time of the episode in deep sleep was the native. It remains so. Therefore we must conclude that what occurred was not the result of conscious effort but was instead an instinctive reaction by its mind and body to the intrusive stimuli.” She dug at an ear opening with a finely manicured claw, scales glistening in the bright examination lights.

“I am by this more troubled than if the native of its own conscious volition had reacted. It suggests there is a portion of its nervous system over which it has no control.”

“I am glad to hear that,” declared Caldaq. “It indicates to me that the native did not intend to harm the interfacer.”

“Yet she has truly been harmed.”

“But you cannot yet say exactly what happened?”

“A lot of data there is to be analyzed. Most importantly, the corroboration of her own testimony we need. I look forward to her recovery.”

“Surely,” Soliwik commented, “the shock cannot be so severe?”

“Treating her now they are.” The Hivistahm looked on worriedly as her colleagues worked on the unconscious interfacer. “I hope you are right, Second-of-Command.”

The interfacer came out of it a little while later. Came out screaming and whistling shrilly as if being pursued by one of the great carnivores of the homeworld. Attending physicians and techs quieted her with medication and reassuring words, manually darkening her eyeshades. At her insistence they also removed her from the examination chamber to another part of the ship.

Two hours later Will Dulac rolled over, yawned, and opened his eyes. The nap had left him refreshed, relaxed, and wondering why he’d made such a fuss over the harmless probe. In response to questions from the Hivistahm and S’van he replied that he had felt nothing, remembered nothing. No nightmares, no unease. His neck was a little stiff, but otherwise he had slept comfortably. The intensity of their queries puzzled him.

In response to his request they provided him with food. Some of it was Massood, the rest S’van. Studies indicated with a good degree of certainty that his body would find all of it nourishing. Taste, however, was much more difficult to quantify. Some of what they were certain he would enjoy he set aside in disgust while dishes Caldaq would not have touched the native appeared to find quite palatable.

It was a good deal later when Chief-of-Medicine reluctantly allowed the injured interfacer to be interviewed.

She lay on her side on a clean medical pallet, a thermoletic sheet covering her body. Both Chief- and Second-of-Medicine were present along with several specialists, Caldaq, and all three Seconds-of-Command. Caldaq would have liked to have had Jaruselka present as well, but it would not have been proper. Anyway, he could discuss the findings with her later.

“What can you tell us about what happened?” he inquired as gently as possible. The interfacer’s shades had been blacked out and he could not see her eyes.

Her voice was wispier than normal, her breathing terse. “Truly truly I do not know. The probe commenced without incident or abnormality. I encountered no resistance. There was the expected strangeness at first but otherwise nothing remarkable. The mind of the native open and clear remained. Particularly unsophisticated I thought it.” She hesitated and sipped liquid from a tube before continuing.

“With the prescribed sequence of stimuli I proceeded. Then chaos without warning. It was as if into the nether pit of the universe I had been plunged. I … I do not think at this time an adequate description of the experience I can render.” She looked up at Chief-of-Medicine. “Please do not ask me too much to remember. Not now, not yet.”

“It will not be required.” The older Hivistahm bent over the interfacer and murmured something too low for the translators to pick up. As he spoke he repeatedly ran an index finger from between the patient’s eyes up over her head and down the back of her neck. She relaxed visibly. Her voice grew softer still.

“As if my brain was on fire it was,” she mumbled finally. “The horror, the sheer hatefulness.” Unexpectedly she sat up and pushed back the darkened eyeshades. “Instinctively homicidal are these creatures. They hide their natural selves beneath a veneer of civilization. Inside as bloodthirsty and primitive as a Stachc they are.”

“We still do not know for certain during the scan what happened,” said one of the specialists. “On personal experience only is based your interpretation. This species is manifestly not primitive.”

“Technologically no,” argued one of his colleagues, “but sociologically it is a different matter. They fight among themselves, which for a species that has achieved their level of technological sophistication is unprecedented.”

“There’s also the testimony of the specimen itself.” All eyes turned to T’var. “It cooperates with the scan and any other examination we wish to perform. It speaks only of peace and friendship and insists that’s the ultimate goal of its people. It alludes to the astonishing infighting of its kind by insisting the activity is in rapid decline.”

“Species infighting has been recorded elsewhere,” a tech pointed out, “but only in societies that in a pretechnologic stage of development are.”

“Yet the implications of our studies thus far in light of what has happened today are profound,” argued a colleague.

Another captain might have injected his own opinions by now. Not Caldaq. Very early in life he had realized that it is difficult to learn anything with one’s mouth open. On the other hand he knew that if left to run unchecked the debate could continue well into the night shift.

“Something important has taken place here. I am not as interested in why or how as much as I am in whether or not it can be used against the Amplitur.”

“No!” Startled, he turned along with everyone else to the medical pallet. As if stunned by her own outburst, the interfacer put her head down against the backrest and repeated more softly, “No. This species as an ally we do not want. Anything to do with them we do not want!” Her eyes flicked wildly from one astonished onlooker to the next.

“Dispose of this one and depart before we are detected. My recommendation that is. I am not in command, but that is what I would do.”

“Calm yourself you must,” Chief-of-Medicine urged her. “Still subject to the aftereffects of the shock you suffered are you. Do not try to analyze. Dream instead of home.”

“Truly do not patronize me.” The interfacer added something in rapid-fire Hivistahm. What little of it the translator could cope with shocked Caldaq. The response was extreme and unnatural for a Hivistahm, much less for a trained technician.

As if conscious of his reaction and knowing that the final decision was his to make, she looked straight at her captain.

“Kill it,” she said bluntly, “and this system leave alone.”

“Dream and recover.” Chief-of-Medicine muttered orders to a specialist, then led the group out of the room. Like everyone else, Caldaq carried his own confusing thoughts away with him.

In the examination chamber Will Dulac was doing his best to participate in a kind of signaling game with a pair of intent technicians. They chatted back and forth, the techs having to wait for their translators to deal with the guttural alien tongue. Though Caldaq could not interpret the native’s expressions, it seemed to him that it was relaxed and at ease, perhaps even enjoying itself.

“On one hand we have the testimony of the interfacer,” he said to his Seconds, “and on the other this reality.” He gestured at the scene on the other side of the transparent wall where Will was doing whatever the pair of techs asked of him. Elsewhere a S’van was taking readings and two O’o’yan were checking instrumentation. At the rear of the chamber a Lepar was doing some routine cleaning. The scene verged on the bucolic.

“It is impossible for me to shake off the feeling that we stand on the brink of some great revelation. I cannot, I will not abandon that to the frenzied recommendation of a single injured specialist.”

Soliwik observed the examination in progress. “The native insists its people are inherently pacifistic and will have no part in resisting the inroads of the Amplitur. Yet despite repeated declarations of its own peaceful nature it has shown the ability to react to specific stimuli with both physical and mental violence.

“Perhaps that is a key. It does not act; it reacts. If we could somehow convey the extent and depth of the Amplitur threat, perhaps it would react usefully to that.”

“Usefully to what degree?” Caldaq wondered.

“I do not know,” Soliwik hesitated, turned to look at him. “My captain, I have been in service all my life. I have witnessed much and heard more. But I have never in all my experience seen anything akin to what occurred earlier today in this chamber.

“I am no scientist, no technician. I am a fighter and a leader of fighters. But I know the interfacer suffered something. Whatever it was shocked her values as well as her mind. Did you hear how readily and insistently she said to kill the specimen? That is unlike a Hivistahm. Truly,” she added in a slight attempt at levity.

Caldaq indicated acknowledgment, looked down to his left. “T’var? You have been unnaturally subdued through all this.”

The S’van spoke carefully. “At present I find myself ambivalent on the matter, but I’d tend to side with you, Captain. Aside from the morality of ‘disposing’ of an intelligent specimen, I still feel we have much to learn from it. There’s value in all knowledge, and where this species is concerned we still have a dearth of it. We can’t simply depart and leave our work here unfinished, even if these people prove ultimately to be useless to the Weave. I could not be party to ambiguous flight.

“Clearly Soliwik is right when she says there’s a capacity for violence here. The Hivistahm do not have it. The Lepar do not have it. My people do not have it. That is a resource as much to be desired in a new species as rare metals or great ships. What we have to ascertain is how much of what the native says is contradicted by its reactions and whether or not there’s anything in that apparent contradiction which we can usefully exploit.

“We need to find out if there’s a way to induce these creatures to fight on behalf of the Weave instead of among themselves. The potential for combat is certainly present; if not in this specimen, then possibly in others.” He eyed Caldaq speculatively.

“I should even venture to say that this potential matches or exceeds anything the Massood are capable of.”

Caldaq did not bristle at his Second’s observation. Some of his troops might have reacted more strongly, but he did not. Perhaps it was a consequence of his unique temperament.

“Second-of-Medicine’s comments pose a problem. She suggests that if this capability is indeed present, it may not be consciously controllable by the native individual. If it cannot be controlled, I do not see how effective use cannot be made of it.”

“Her observations may be clouded by personal experience,” T’var responded. “Indeed, it would be unnatural if they were not.”

“If this potential can only be unleashed when the native is surprised or asleep, then it is useless.” Soliwik rested a hand on the transparent wall. “Most of you were focused on the interfacer’s reactions when the episode occurred. I kept my attention on the native. I saw no overt signs of violence, nothing to suggest it was defending itself in its sleep. A few slight twitches and a jerking of one leg. There was nothing to suggest, from a physical standpoint at least, that it was aware of what it was doing. As you know, the native confirmed all this upon awakening.”

Caldaq considered. “We must find out what it is capable of when awake. Defensive mechanisms and reactions that engage only when it is unconscious are clearly of no use to us.” He sniffed, sucking air and uttering a whistling exclamation.

“We are not leaving this place until we know if there is anything of use here or not. Studies will continue. We must summarize and analyze what we have learned about his species and proceed accordingly. It is self-evident they are capable of violence against themselves. That does not concern me. It is an aberration for others to dissect.

“In contrast our mission is entirely practical, and it is to practical ends we must be devoted.” He reached down to put a hand on T’var’s shoulder. The S’van was surprised by the physical contact.

“I leave it to you, Second, to see to it that the scientific staff concentrates on practical matters and does not drift into the Underspace of pure research. We need results I can act upon, not more theory.” He straightened and stared into the chamber, regarding the native thoughtfully.

“We have debated this matter among ourselves. Let us discuss it with the specimen.”

T’var was uncertain. “It may find the subject provocative.”

“That is what I am hoping.”

Caldaq’s hopes were not fulfilled. Not only was the native not provoked, it demonstrated a distinct reluctance to discuss the matter at all. It showed more interest in the plants which brightened the relaxation lounge to which they had all moved.

Passing crew glanced only occasionally in the direction of the little group. A pair of Lepar ignored them as they cleaned the bubble that protruded into another part of the ship. The benches on which they sat were made of curving plastic. Different heights accommodated the backsides and legs of different species so that a S’van might sit comfortably in the company of a Massood.

T’var was remonstrating with the indifferent native. “We’ve explained that few Weave races are suited to combat, the Massood and Chirinaldo foremost among these. Our efforts against the Amplitur are severely restricted by this limitation. Neither the Massood nor the Chirinaldo have high rates of reproduction. Efforts have been made to increase these but …”

“If you’re looking for someone to breed soldiers for you then you’d better look elsewhere,” Will told him.

T’var’s expression was submerged in the depths of that great black beard. “I offer apologies if I’ve offended.”

Will sighed. “It’s not that. It’s just that in spite of what you think we’re not suited for what you want. I realize that our history might suggest otherwise, but we’re getting better at peace. We’ve been working toward it for thousands of years and we’re almost there. People have started to realize it’s simply not practical, in an age of weapons of mass destruction, to go on fighting one another. There can’t be any victors.” He smiled, without considering the effect it might have on his audience.

“The last thing we need, the last thing we’d want to do, is export our failures. I don’t know why we’ve fought throughout our history. You’ve said it’s not normal, and if it was up to me I’d agree with you. I can’t give you any explanations. It’s just the way we developed.”

“As a species matures toward civilization the normal sequence of events requires that individuals band together to cooperate against natural forces.” T’var ran thick, stubby fingers down the weft of a nearby broadleaf plant. “Your people seem to have done exactly the opposite. We would like to know why.”

“So would we,” said Will feelingly.

“Some of our specialists have suggested that your abnormal development may be related to your extraordinarily active geology. On all other sentient-inhabited worlds the species has evolved on a single large landmass. This is conducive to cooperation and joint development. We find your planet as fractured as your society.”

“You may be right about that,” said Will. “You may be right about everything … except us being ready to participate in your war. Besides, didn’t you tell me that the hallmark of a truly advanced, mature civilization is one that has given up large-scale conflict?”

“And so we all had, until the advent of the Amplitur.” Soliwik leaned forward earnestly. “Don’t you think we tried talk and intelligent debate before taking up arms against them? You must realize that neutrality is a concept alien to the Amplitur. You are a part of their Purpose, living and developing under their suzerainty, or you are opposed to them.

“You must believe this.” Cat eyes burned into his. “You will not be given the luxury of avoiding a choice. If you decline to join with us, the Amplitur will eventually find your world. They will not permit you to decline.”

Will was quiet for a long moment. “Why us? Why are we suddenly so damn important to you? We have so many problems of our own, we’re so different, as you’ve repeatedly pointed out. We don’t know anything about starships or interstellar drives. Of what use could we possibly be to you in a galaxy-wide conflict?”

“Allow me an apparent misconception to correct,” said Second-of-Medicine. “You apparently believe that interstellar conflict consists of great armadas of heavily armed vessels dueling in deep space. A physical impossibility this is. Ships traveling in Underspace cannot be tracked. Ships moving in normal space are separated by vast distances and unless locked in near atmospheric orbits are too far apart from one another to engage with on-board weaponry.

“Nor is there by destroying a ship much to be gained, even if a target could from fleeing into Underspace be prevented.”

“The war is to convince and persuade, not destroy,” said Soliwik. “Most fighting takes place on the surfaces of contested worlds. Care is taken to spare the local ecology and civilization insofar as is possible. The objective is to destroy the Amplitur, not the worlds on which they hold dominion.”

Will leaned back against the sculpted foam of the bench. “You’re still trying to tell me that after a thousand years of combat and the development of advanced weapons and ships capable of traveling between star systems, both sides do most of their fighting hand to hand?”

“It’s not practical to fight in space,” said T’var. “There’s nothing in space to fight for. Do you begin to see why species with a proclivity or at least tolerance for combat are so sought after by both sides? Of course, the Amplitur have an advantage we can’t match, both for reasons of morality and science. They can modify certain species the better to fulfill their requirements.”

Will frowned. “Modify?”

“Biologically alter.” T’var gazed hard at the native. “Naturally each species is convinced everything they do is of their own free will and volition. Despite continuing efforts we have been unable to convince any of them otherwise. How do you convince a sentient that it has been genetically reengineered if it has been reengineered to believe otherwise?

“The Amplitur themselves do not participate in combat. If not for their allied races, some of whom, it must be admitted, joined them voluntarily, we could end this war in a few years.”

Will was shaken by the images thus called up, but not sufficiently to alter his convictions. “I sympathize with your situation. I really do. I just don’t know how else to put this except to say it.

“Humans don’t like to fight. We’ve been forced into it, whether because of stupidity or history or geology or whatever, but we don’t like it. We now realize how wrong it is and we’ve been trying hard not to do it anymore. You’ve said that it’s aberrant, uncivilized behavior. We’re coming to realize that, starting to mature, as you put it. I don’t think anything you can say is going to change people’s minds.”

“There must be a way to test this.” Soliwik turned away from her translator so that her thoughts would not be conveyed to the native.

Caldaq indicated agreement, looked at Will. “You may be right. Please be patient with us if we strike you as overly insistent. Remember that we have come a long way and it will be difficult for us if we have to return disappointed.” He did not mention the other intelligence they had previously encountered, which had enthusiastically agreed to ally itself with the Weave.

“If the truth of what you claim can be proven, then we will depart unobtrusively. However, you must understand that, given our position, we cannot leave until what you say has been verified beyond a doubt.”

“That seems fair enough.” Will eyed the alien commander. “What kind of proof would be sufficient for you?”

“I am sure that as an intelligent individual it is clear to you that it is impossible to pass judgment on an entire species based on the actions of a single specimen. We must acquire a larger, representative sampling of the population and put the same questions and tests to them that we have put to you. We need to see how they will react, speak, perform in specified situations.”

Will considered. This was becoming as complicated as one of his Uncle Dan’s bourrées. “I take it you’d like me to help you find some people?”

T’var nodded. “I think it’s self-evident that we can get this over with a lot faster if you’d agree to serve as intermediary for us.”

“Why should I help you?”

“Because,” said T’var, “the sooner we’ve obtained and tested our sample, the sooner we’ll depart forever if your analysis of your kind’s reactions proves correct.”

“All right. I’ll do what I can. It’s going to sound crazy to most people but I’ll try. One thing, though: no professional soldiers, no military personnel. No people who have been trained to fight other people. You want a representative sample of the general population; that’s what I’ll try and get for you.”

“Agreed.” Caldaq’s ears bent forward and his upper lip curled back.

“There’s just one problem,” Will told them. “I have no idea how I’m going to get anybody to cooperate.”

“You have,” Soliwik pointed out.

Will looked at her. “Not enthusiastically, if you’ll remember. And you found me alone and isolated.”

“You mean,” said a puzzled Second-of-Medicine, “you will have difficulty finding people who will agree to help? On a mature world individuals would naturally wish to cooperate.”

“I told you: this isn’t a mature world. But you won’t take my word for it, you want to test other people. Fine. I just have to figure out how to convince some of them to go along.”

“Based on what we have learned of your civilization,” said Caldaq, “it clearly would not be effective for us to appear in a town and make the request ourselves.”

“No. That’s why you need me.” Will looked thoughtful. “I might be able to find a few people willing to meet aliens, talk with aliens. The possibility of contact has been in the news for so long that some people are probably ready for it. But locating people willing to come to your ship and submit themselves to a battery of tests, that’s another matter entirely. I don’t know how to start finding people like that.”

“If it is a true test of your people’s potential to be,” said Second-of-Medicine, “you should adequate specimens everywhere be able to find.”

“Easy for you to say. You have your own definition of civilization. I don’t think it fits ours. If you’re right, though, I suppose I should be able to sail my boat inshore right here and find the people you need. What if I can’t?”

“Then we will have to find another way of running the necessary tests,” said Soliwik.

Will chose not to ask what the alternatives might be. Instead he muttered aloud, “If I had some way of convincing people instead of just asking them to trust me …” He looked at his audience. “You don’t just ask Humans to do something extraordinary for you. It’s customary to offer something in return for services rendered.”

“That is an operative part of most civilizations. The idea of ‘paying’ a sentient to serve as a test subject is not.” Caldaq turned to his colleagues. “That is not to say that under the present circumstances it is unworkable. The transfer of Weave technology is not an option. What else might be acceptable?”

“I’d like to keep away from counterfeiting. If the work wasn’t perfect it could lead to trouble. Precious stones would be acceptable but most people would think they were fakes.” Will looked at the captain. “How about gold? It doesn’t matter what shape it takes. Just so long as it’s the real thing.”

After brief discussion the request was put to the scientific staff. Initial dismay gave way to relief when it was found that the necessary element was present in extractable quantities in the planet’s seawater; The same method which had been used to camouflage the shuttle could be modified to extract gold instead of calcium.

This will all find its way into a grand symphony some day, Will kept telling himself. He would title it “Contact.” Now if they would only continue to provide him with samples of their own music …

He was surprised and disappointed to learn that what music the Massood possessed was simple and straightforward. In contrast, the Hivistahm and particularly the S’van utilized highly developed musical languages and were delighted to supply him with examples.

Listening to a S’van contrapuntal song cycle through an expandable playback device as the shuttle dropped away from the ship helped him to forget that he was traveling through empty space. The music was soothing, relaxing, like listening to a brace of waterfalls engaged in friendly debate. Easy to see why his own music had shocked them.

It wasn’t the dissonance. There was plenty of that in the recordings they gave him. It was the rhythmic progressions that made them uneasy.

What am I doing here? he thought abruptly as the shuttle bumped through cloying atmosphere on its plunge toward a looming Caribbean. I should be composing, not recruiting the unsuspecting for a visit to an alien lab.

If not him, he knew, they would find someone else. Someone who might have a less sophisticated view of the world than himself, who might unconsciously perpetuate a false impression. It was incumbent on him to see this through.

It shouldn’t take much to convince Caldaq and his people that they were wasting their time here. He would simply pass over anyone in uniform, anyone who even looked like a soldier. Ordinary people, that was the ticket. Not that Belize was a hotbed of military tradition anyway.

People would disbelieve him, might even laugh at him outright. More than one would assume he was some kind of smuggler. But he had been supplied with enough gold to overcome the reluctance of a few. These would follow him out of greed if not curiosity. If they bolted at the sight of Caldaq’s people, so much the better. It would only serve to reinforce his thesis that a parochial humanity would be useless in any interstellar conflict.

Whereupon the representatives of the mysterious Weave would depart, leaving him to get on with his composing and his world to practice its increasingly peaceful ways. As for the driven Amplitur and their unfathomable Purpose, it was not unreasonable to assume they might be defeated by the resolute forces of the Weave long before they ever encountered mankind. Hadn’t Caldaq admitted that Earth lay far off the beaten interstellar track?

No, they would be shown conclusively what Will had been trying to tell them all along and then they would go, leaving him with a little gold of his own and, if he was lucky, recordings of their music to inspire and infuse his work with the exotic for the next twenty years. He felt no compunctions at keeping both. Teaching paid next to nothing, while the history of musical patronage was old and respected. Wagner had his Ludwig of Bavaria. Will Dulac had the Massood.