Freegate was a city under occupation.   The occupation was not as complete or brutal as it might have been--especially since the occupying army from an allied power had been invited in (to blunt threats of a more complete and more brutal occupation from an enemy) and the Chairman of the cityıs Council of Elders refused to let the Thebeans turn the place into a fortress--nonetheless, the people of Freegate grew tired of the sight of Thebean legionnaires in their streets.

       But, since it was for their own protection and there was nothing to be done about it, it fell to the honorable Dorius family to distract Freegateıs people from the tensions between the Thebeans in their city and the Atalaneans across the river--an international border, in effect--and to cheer them up.   This was an honor Corius Cincinatus Dorius wanted no part of.

       The young Freegate Equestrian stood before his father in an attempt to explain himself.   ³There are more than enough of us for the coming production, father--Danius has my role down by heart.   I know he can do it at least as well as I can--besides, Iım no good at theater!²

       ³Nonsense!² Honorius Cincinatus Dorius boomed.   He was a bit shorter than his son, but made up for it by being wider.   ³Your projection is fine--very fine, if you ask me, and your brotherıs baritone simply doesnıt match up to yours.   And thereıs no one in the family who doesnıt envy your talent for winds.²   It was all true.   Corius was highly talented, even for a Dorius, in which family talent was thick on the ground indeed.   But he had been keeping a secret all his twenty-four years: in every production he got stuck with, he grappled incessantly with stage fright.   The thought of an audience terrified him.   He was fine during rehearsals--then it was only family (and perhaps a small few others) watching him, and they were all working together.   But an amphitheater full of strangers, judging every move, every word, with the smallest error on display for all?   Corius found it terrifying, and unless he could get away, it was exactly what he would be doing in a week..   Between being onstage and being shot at (perhaps indeed being shot), he preferred the latter.   That was why heıd chosen to join the Thebean Imperial Legion--although he had made precious few people aware of that decision.

       ³Father--² he began, then faltered.

       ³Son.²   Honorius looked at Corius with pleading eyes.   They were eyes that said ŒI need you in this production, and you are bound to obey me.ı   That might have been true in Thebes twenty or fifty years ago--it was probably true in Freegate at the time Š but both societies had been becoming more open, slowly but surely.   For most, the societal reprobation for turning oneıs back on a pater familias was minimal.   Were such an incident to afflict such a public family as Dorius of clan Cincinatus, the overreaction would make up for that.   Corius did not care--he planned to stay in the Legion for a long time and perhaps not even to return to Freegate afterward.

       The younger Dorius gave up.   He would take the matter to the Old Man--heıd always been closer to his grandfather anyway.   ³Nevermind, Father.²   He turned and left Honoriusı study.   In the hallway of the large Dorius estate, he ran a hand through his curly black hair--like most people of Thebean descent, he had been graced with a thick mop of the stuff.   He sighed.

       ³Whatıs wrong, Corius?²   The young man was somewhat startled by the feminine voice--it was his younger cousin, Tamelia.

       He shook his head in reply.   ³Nothing, really.   Iım fine.²

       ³You donıt look fine,² she said, frowning.

       ³Tamelia Š have you ever been frightened of something?²

       The seventeen year old girl frowned.   Then her expression seemed to lighten and she shrugged.   ³Not since I was afraid of the dark.²   She smiled.   Corius smiled as well--but his was   a weary smile.   Fear was, he supposed, hard to come by in a family that was secure in pretty much all ways--financially in particular.

       ³I hope you never are,² he said honestly as he left to begin the search for his grandfather.   The Old Man could generally be found in the library, the rehearsal amphitheater, his apartments, in the gardens Š or in any number of other places around the estate.   Corius expected the search to take until the evening meal, when he would inevitably be in the same room as his grandfather, at which time his search would have been rendered pointless.   But he surely wouldnıt be able to bring up such a topic in front of the whole family and would probably have to wait through dinner anyway.

       The library was close to his fatherıs study, so he checked there first.   He didnıt find his grandfather, but he did find his uncle, Quintus.   His fatherıs younger brother looked up from the book he was reading without a word--it must have been obvious to him that Corius was looking for something.   ³Have you seen the Old Man?²

       Quintus shook his head.   ³Not since this morning.²   Corius nodded and left.   His search took him through most of the house before he checked the gardens--without success.   As he was leaving, though, he passed by the kitchen window and heard his grandfatherıs voice inside--yelling at the staff, from the sound of it.   He rushed to the nearest door and made his way into the kitchen as fast as he could, before he could lose the Old Man (whose proper name was Rufus) once more.   He did happen to catch him storming out of the kitchen.   The oldest living Dorius looked relieved to see him.   ³Corius, my boy.   Come, walk with me.²   Corius gladly nodded.   As they strolled--back the way Corius had come, actually, for they were heading for the gardens--the elder said ³You look troubled, Corius--is there something I can help with?²

       ³There is, actually Š²   Even now, he wasnıt sure how to phrase it.   He decided the most direct way would be easiest, and best.   ³I donıt want to perform any more.²

       They stopped.   ³What?²

       Corius sighed.   ³Whenever I need to go onstage, I always get terrible stage fright.   Iıve been on hundreds of times, now Iım sure Š but I donıt know how I manage it, even now.   Audiences terrify me.   I donıt want to deal with it any longer.²

       Rufus stared at him for a few minutes.   Finally he smiled.   ³My boy, I had the same trouble when I was young.   But I learned to overcome it.   Why didnŒt you come out with this earlier?   The rest of us could have helped you.²

       ³I didnŒt tell anyone about it because this family is so wrapped up in the theater--really, a Dorius with stage fright?²

       ³I told you, Corius: I had it, too.   Getting help isnıt an admission of weakness, you know.²

       ³How old were you when you got over this problem?²

       ³Oh, probably somewhere in my teens, I guess.²

       Corius shook his head.   ³Iım not in my teens anymore.   Iıve been dealing with this my whole life.   I dread every new production because I know Iım going to end up terrified to death of going onstage with people watching me.   Itıs only because Iıve developed my willpower that I can brave the stage at all.²        

       ³There, you see?   You can face your fear, and the more youıre in front of people, the more confidence you will have.²

       ³Iıve been onstage plenty already.   And while I can face my fears with an act of will Š I donıt want to.   The fear has never gotten better.²

       Rufus thought for a moment.   ³And this fear extends to other performances, I assume--instrumental ones?²

       ³Yes.²

       The eldest Dorius continued walking, scratching his chin.   Corius followed.   ³How do you feel,² Rufus began, ³About behind-the-scenes work?   Say Š set design?²   He didnıt sound hopeful.

       ³I could manage, I suppose.   But what I really want is to get as far from theater as I can.²

       ³What do you have in mind?²

       Corius braced himself for the worst.   ³The Legion.²

       Rufus stared at him for a long time.   Then he threw back his head and began to laugh.   ³Oh, son, that was good!   Weıve all wondered about your sense of humor, and all along we were worried about nothing!   You had me there, no two ways about it!   I believed every word right up to that punch line!²   he laughed some more, but when he looked, he saw that Corius was not laughing along with him, but looking at him a little sadly.   Rufus quickly regained control of himself, clearing his throat.   ³You Š arenıt joking.²

       ³No, sir.   Iım not.   I want to join the Thebean Imperial Legion.²

       Rufus cleared his throat again.   ³Have you Š discussed this with your father?²

       ³Not yet.   I wanted to talk to you first.   I had hoped you would understand my feelings given that weıve always been so close.²

       Rufus sighed.   ³I donıt think heıll care for this news, my boy.²

       ³Heıll probably ignore it Š until he can ignore it no longer.²

       The elder Dorius glanced at his grandson.   ³What do you mean?²

       ³I mean, heıll ignore it until Iım gone.²

       Rufus stared for about a minute.   ³I see Š you plan to volunteer whether you have your fatherıs permission or not.²   Corius nodded.   ³Well, youıve got balls, son, and no mistake.   Are you sure I canıt dissuade you from going through with this?²

       ³Iım sure.²

       Rufus moved to embrace his grandson--they hugged tightly and as they pulled away, the older man took the younger by the shoulders and said ³Good luck, boy.   And be careful.²

       Corius resolved to visit the offices the Legion had rented out for their local headquarters before he lost his nerve.   As he expected, he saw quite a few legionnaires on his way there--most wore the buttoned-up, broad-shouldered crimson duty uniforms that had become familiar, but some looked as though they might have stepped forward a hundred or more years in time--they wore a dress uniform that comprised a shaped and polished brass breastplate, a helmet a good deal more ornate than what the troops carried, and an old shortsword.   Thebeans were nothing if not traditionalists.

       A couple of sentries greeted him inside the door--he knew that while they let him pass, theyıd keep an eye on him Š probably.   These two seemed to be talking about last nightıs card game and might not have been paying him much attention.   Corius didnıt plan on being on anything but his best behavior anyway.   He approached the Centurion at the desk.   Making his way from the door, he reflected that the Legion probably couldnıt have put their headquarters in a less attractive building if theyıd tried.   This particular residence--for it had been a house before the Thebeans moved in--had been boarded up for a good decade.   It was undoubtedly in need of repairs then, and now it was perhaps even more so.   The floor creaked under Corius as he came to a halt before the desk.

       The centurion looked up from his paperwork with a somewhat annoyed air.   ³Yes?²

       ³I want to volunteer.²   The officer sighed and opened a drawer.

       He handed Corius a sheaf of paper.   ³Fill these out and bring them back to me.²

       ³Um.   Thank you.²   The centurion did not reply.   Corius turned to leave, but he heard the sentries at the door say something that made him pause.

       ³Š think Janusı patrol found them, not as big a force as youıd think, you know?²

       ³What do you think theyıd be doing over there?²

       ³Donıt know.   I reckon weıll find out sooner or later, I mean, theyıve got to be heading here, right?²

       ³I guess.   Say, did you talk to Calvius at all?   He might have been one of the scouts that saw the camp.²

       ³Matter of fact, I did talk to him.   He said he glassed the camp from about three hundred yards while he was under cover, said it was a damn good thing he didnıt get any closer and didnıt run into any Atalanean patrols.   When he took a look at the way they were running their camp, they looked pretty damn jumpy, even for their kind.   I think heıs trying to spook us.²

       The other soldier shrugged.   ³Never can tell.   I guess it doesnıt hurt to keep on our toes.²   Corius finally made his way out, so they wouldnıt think he was loitering (or eavesdropping).   As he neared the sprawling Dorius residence, he slipped the papers under his tunic, hoping they wouldnıt fall out as he made his way to his small apartment.   (Most of the grown children had a private bath adjoining their bedroom and the older members of the family all had three-or-four room suite.)   He navigated the hallways as expediently as he could, nodding to the servants and slaves as he passed--he met his sister but she was hurrying somewhere and could only afford him a quick ³Hello, Corius.²   He smiled at her.   He was not waylaid by anyone, fortunately.

       When he reached his apartment, he took out a pencil and began to look over the papers heıd been given. Most of the questions the forms asked were pretty simple--birthdate and age, place of residence Š he was hoping that coming from a noble family would afford him a place as an officer, but if not, he would cope.   So long as he could get away from Freegate and especially from performing, he would take any rank the Legion would give him.

       He passed the time until that eveningıs dinner looking through the forms and filling them out.   When the dinner bell sounded, summoning the whole family to the dining hall, he gladly put his pencil away and slid the papers into a desk drawer.   He would remain relieved only until he realized that he would have to tell his father tonight what he intended to do--which was why he did not think on that subject.

       Although Thebeans were a tradition-bound people, and Freegate was populated by expatriate Thebeans, the people of the Free City discarded many of the traditions that they found frivolous or constraining.   One, though, they held onto tightly: the Thebean style of dining.   Breakfast tended to be light--some fruit with perhaps some bread soaked in olive oil.   Lunch was usually leftovers from the previous nightıs dinner, or what would be considered a snack in other cultures--these were both highly informal meals.   Some people habitually skipped one or both.   But no Thebean ever skipped dinner.   Like most well-off families, the Doriuses all gathered in their homeıs main dining hall for the evening meal at dinnertime.   Dinner was almost always a multiple-course meal (including appetizers).

       Corius greeted with embraces the Old Man, his brother Danius, his teenage sister Elinna, his cousins Tamelia and Gordus, his aunt and uncle, Maria and Quintus and his mother and father, Natalia and HonoriusŠ and the myriad shirt-tail relatives who had taken up residence within Dorius manor.   The whole family--and the non-kitchen staff--sat down to dine.   The mealtime entertainment was a meager puppet show provided by a few of the slaves.   It was lowbrow stuff by the standards of the Dorius family, but it was perfect for distraction.   The storyline was nonsensical and consisted mostly of the puppets hitting each other over the head with sticks.

       The menu included bread rolls, a flock of roast ducks, an impressive array of cheeses and a platter of vegetables doused in various sauces--including olive oil, garum and a uniquely Thebean mixture of honey, vinegar, mint and pepper.   (Thebean tastes, to say the least, differ from those of Š well, quite frankly, anyone.)   Corius endured the meal, the duck not tasting quite as it should Š in fact, nothing did, but he suspected that might have something to do with his impending doom at the hands of his father--and quite possibly the rest of the family.   He wondered vaguely if he should just leave things unsaid and disappear.

       No, the Old Man would be disappointed in him for that.   Corius knew that if he didnıt say something, Rufus would.   The codger wasnıt one to brook cowardice in any form. ³Courage on the battlefield isnıt the only kind, Corius,² heıd say.   Heedless of the time passing, Corius dithered internally through the meal--before he realized it, Rufus was speaking up.   ³I think that Corius has something to say to us,² was all the young man caught.

       He couldnıt get his mouth to work.   He looked at his grandfather, confused ³Uh?²

       RufusŒ voice said: ³Some thoughts you shared earlier on our upcoming production--I was hoping you could tell the whole family about them.²   His face said ³Donıt disappoint me.²

       Corius stood and cleared his throat.   He looked at those people surrounding him--most of them had been surrounding him for his whole life.

       Before a Dorius learned to talk, he learned to sing.   Before he could walk, he was playing child-sized instruments (albeit not well Š)   Music, theater Š the act of performance was impossible to escape, but Corius was hell-bent to try.

       ³Itıs hard to know what to say.   I guess the best way is to come out and say whatıs been on my mind for years.   Ever since Iıve been allowed to take part in the family productions, Iıve been fighting a terrible fear.   Itıs only through sheer willpower that I can make my way onstage in front of an audience on opening night.²   He sighed.   ³I suffer from stage fright.   I donıt want help getting through it.   I donıt want a backstage position designing sets.   Iıve already decided what Iım going to do about it.   Iım volunteering for the Legion.   Iım sure at least some of you will be disappointed in me, but this is something Iıve been thinking about for a long time.²

       The family was quiet for a good five minutes before Coriusı mother, Natalia leaned forward and asked ³How long, my dear?²

       ³Since I was old enough to join Š   At least six years now.   Iım not sure why I waited so long.   Maybe I was hoping the stage fright would go away.   Iıve become convinced that it never will.²

       ³And what,² his father rumbled, ³Are we supposed to do in the meantime?   We canıt just cut your part out--this is a classic work weıre performing!²

       ³Danius knows the part as well as I do, father, as I tried to explain to you earlier today.   I think he knows it even better than I do.²

       ³Rubbish!²   Honorius blustered.   ³This is utter rubbish.   Youıre still living in my house, young man, and you need my permission and I refuse to give it.   I forbid you to go.²   he nodded and folded his arms as if the matter had been settled.   Coriusı mother gave him a sympathetic glance and Corius sat down for the rest of the meal.   Fortunately, this did not affect Coriusı plans in the least--he was disappointed heıd have to leave by sneaking out in the night (or something like it), but it was what had to be done.

       Later in the evening, as he sat at his desk working on his forms by the light of a gas lamp, he was startled from his concentration by a knock upon his door.   He called for whoever it was to enter.   The visiting party was made up of his mother, Danius, his aunt and uncle and the Old Man.   He greeted them with a weary face.

       Natalia spoke first.   ³Your father is a stubborn man, my son.   But Rufus made a few visits after dinner to the rest of us and brought some reason to bear.   He shed some light on your situation, having been there himself.²   She glanced to the elder, who only smiled.

       Corius waited for her to continue.   His mother seemed to be waiting for a prompt, so he said ³Š and?²

       ³Danius will take your role, if you are called away before opening night.   Quintus and Maria are here to show that they support you as well.²

       ³I canıt say I approve of your decision, but itıs yours to make.   So, we and the children wish you good luck,² said Quintus.   Corius nodded thanks.

       It wasnıt long after Corius finished filling out his forms that he received a reply from the Legion office: he was to board a certain train (theyıd supplied him the number) at the platform in Freegate at ten sharp the next Thursday night.   He brought it up with his mother in private and she suggested a course of action that wasnıt entirely palatable to him--that night was the opening performance of the current production, so she claimed it would cause Honorius to bring his guard down if Corius participated.   Then, the whole family would use the song and dance finale to cover his exit.

       ³You know that finale is chaotic in the best circumstances.   You can slip out in the confusion with no one the wiser.   If you stash your bags backstage, you should be able to grab them and make it to the platform in time.²

       ³What about Gordus?   His character gets killed before the last act--he could take my bags to the platform and wait there with them.²   Natalia nodded and said sheıd bring it up with Gordus and Maria (she wasnıt her sister-in-law would agree, being a typical mother--²He is NOT going to be out in the dark by himself that late for so long!²).

       Coriusı aunt and uncle were reluctant, but after he engaged in some fast-talking, they acquiesced and allowed the venture.   So, then: all that remained was to wait Š   Corius found waiting intolerable.   He found that he spent half his life waiting for other people to get their acts together so he could get on with whatever he was doing.   He made it a point of honor to arrive early to any appointment he made--while often it seemed that others made the same point of honor of being late.   In theater especially, things rarely if ever ran on time--at least, that was Coriusı experience.   If the troupe had been more disciplined, they would probably have been more efficient, but Honorius made a fickle disciplinarian at best.

       When at last the appointed hour arrived, Corius forced his way through it as he always did.   The knowledge that heıd never have to do it again was a great help.   Only three more scenes Š he told himself.   He even counted how many more lines he needed to say as he stood onstage before he could escape.   The evening dragged.   The musical play was a good two hours long, easily.   Corius, thankfully, did not fudge any lines--Honorius, ironically, was the eveningıs screw-up.   As he ran onstage to say a line to Maria, his trousers fell from his hips in plain view of the audience--who roared with laughter.   Even nervous as he was, Corius smiled and laughed.   Thankfully, he did not lose himself to his laughter, though his aunt almost did.

       At last, the grand finale arrived--appropriately enough, the song was called ³So long, Farewell.²   It began slow and worked toward the more chaotic climax where the actors danced among each other on the stage--lots of motion was involved and Coriusı co-conspirators had hoped that he would be able to slip out in the confusion.

       Most of the characters who took part in the finale had a brief solo--a line or two to remind the audience that they existed.   Corius took perverse enjoyment in his line, which was ³Iım glad to go / I cannot tell a lie Š² shortly before the great chorus of   ³Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye Š² that culminated in the grand dance that would hopefully mask his escape.

       Through the promenades and twirls and jigs and box-steps that the last dance entailed, he began to lose his nerve: someoneıs got to see me, Iıll be caught for sure Š until his mother swatted him on the back as they passed each other near the backdrop curtains ³Go now!² she whispered.   Without hesitation, and before he lost his nerve again, Corius slipped through the backdrop curtain and backstage.   He trotted to the nearest exit as quickly as he could--the song went on without him and he heard no pursuing footsteps.   He didnıt see anybody, either--they must have all been in the wings, watching.   Without even changing out of his costume (which was pretty close to plainclothes anyway), Corius ran as fast as he could to the train platform--he arrived just in time to hear the conductor yell out a boarding call.   Gordus stood right where theyıd agreed he would with Coriusı bags--looking somewhat disgruntled, as it was starting to rain.   Giving his cousin a quick hug and a goodbye, he grabbed them and climbed aboard the train.   ³And get inside before you catch something!² he yelled as the train pulled out.   As it left the city of Freegate, lightning began to flash in the sky.   Thunder rolled across the gentle hills that climbed to the edge of the Belkom valley.   Corius, overcome with relief, fingered the ticket in his pocket and sighed, closing his eyes.   He would need to be well-rested in the morning, no doubt about it.

       In the meantime, Averius Calentius Lucius, the chairman of Freegateıs Council of Elders stood in one of the fortified walls along with Augusticlave Tribune Amantius, the commander of the Legionary forces in and around Freegate.

       ³We received reports of a large war party on the east side of the river less than two days ago,² Amantius rumbled--he was large for a Thebean--nearly 5ı10², with swarthy skin and a solid build--unlike most high-ranking officers, Amantius was a Plebeian--he had worked his way up from Legionnaire.   ³Their attack is expected to come tonight.²

       ³Itıs most unusual for me to keep news of this from my people, Tribune.   I wish you had not been so Š inflexible on the matter.²

       ³It will be of no consequence, Elder.   If I had thought that the Atalaneans had a chance of breaking our fortifications, I would have asked for an evacuation--to say nothing of other emergency procedures we can call on.   Otherwise, we should only alarm your people.²

       ³Still Š²   Lucius needed to communicate periodically with Proconsul Otho, Amantiusı civilian superior, to keep the Tribune in line.   Nonetheless, he was a highly capable soldier, and his dedication to the defense of Freegate could not be questioned.   Nevertheless, Lucius looked forward to the day when Thebean troops would withdraw from his city.   He peeked outside at the thundershower pouring down on Freegate.   It was highly unusual that it had come up so suddenly, he thought.

       Then the lightning struck.   A bolt from the shadowy clouds overhead cast illumination over east-central Freegate and struck the White Pyramid itself--Lucius wasnıt sure what that would do to the people inside, but it probably wouldnıt be pleasant--fortunately, at half-past ten in the evening precious few people were in there.

       Then it happened again, to a large house somewhere to the south--struck directly by lightning.   ³This is bizarre,² Lucius muttered.

       Then one of the soldiers shouted ³Look!²   Lucius peered toward where he was pointing on the opposite shore of the Belkom river--he knew what he would see but he didnıt want to see it.   He looked anyway.   Surely enough, about three hundred feet from the river bank was a large party of Atalaneans, spears at their sides.   I wonder what theyıre waiting for, he thought.

       The wind picked up.   The lightning continued, improbably, to strike buildings more and more prominent--at least two more struck the Pyramid.   Before long, hailstones began to rain down on the city--large ones, as big as a manıs fist.   The soldier spoke again: ³Look, sir, look!²   Amantius looked through the Legionnaireıs binoculars at the Atalaneans on the opposite shore.   He gave the soldier a questioning look.   ³More carefully, sir.²

       ³Here, let me have a look,² said Lucius.   Amantius seemed glad to hand the things over.   Lucius peered through them, and saw what the Legionnaire had been on about.   ³Theyıre not getting pounded over there--they donıt have any hailstones around their feet.   And I donıt think Iıve seen a single lightning strike from that direction.   Theyıve got a Š a Š priest to their weather god or something over there, thatıs got to be it.   Tribune!   You need to get them moving and get them away from here!²

       ³Too far,² the big plebe judged.   ³Weıd just be wasting ammunition.   No artillery here, by your order.   Small arms donıt have range that good.²

       Lucius swore.   The wind howled outside and to the north, Lucius glimpsed a funnel-shaped projection coming from the clouds to the north.   He swore again.   ³Donıt you have any artillery outside the city?²   Amantius nodded.   ³Then get it on those troops and open fire!   That weather-priest will tear this city apart if you donıt!²

       Amantius rumbled some more, but mostly for the sake of form.   He sent a courier to his artillery batteries.   Lucius waited nervously, hoping that the courier could run faster than the funnel-cloud would move.   He prayed to every god whose name he could remember as he stared across the Belkom River at the Atalaneans.

       At last, Lucius head a rumble of thunder that didnıt sound quite right.   It was followed by an explosion on the eastern bank of the river--the artillery had opened fire.   The Atalaneans didnıt lose any time, though, because at the first shell, they rushed forward in a headlong assault on the west bankıs fortifications.   That was about the time the wind stopped blowing.   Rain continued to fall, but the hail had dissipated and the lightning strikes were nowhere near as focused now--nonetheless, there would be a good bit of damage control to do after the storm was over.

       There were a mere hundred and fifty Atalanean Auxiliaries, all told.   There were three hundred Thebean legionnaires facing them from the fortifications.   The Atalaneans had bayonets and muskets, which simply could not be reloaded while running.   The Thebeans had repeating carbines, which could be reloaded anytime, anywhere, in nearly any position.   Aside from which, the Thebean defensive position was, to say the least, robust.

       Yeah, the Atalaneans had a pretty tough time of it.   But once the attack had begun, there was little to do but carry it forward.   The storm theyıd called up did a lot more damage than they did, though.

       In particular, it demolished the Freegate Opera House, where the Dorius family had performed earlier in the evening--and since it was their custom to mingle with the audience after a performance, theyıd still been inside the place when it fell.   So it goes.

       All the while, Corius napped on the road to Tarsk.   When he awakened, he hoped to wire home and let them know heıd arrived safely.   He wondered how long it would take to get the response.