"Sure seems as though it would be easy, and not too expensive, to at least give them benches of some sort to sit on," he thought.
Near one corner of the stage was the entrance to a flight of stone steps that led downward into the dressing rooms and property-storage for the theatre. When it was their turn, the actors had to come up these steps and so onto the stage to begin their turn, without benefit of curtain. Also, because of the peculiar construction it was impossible to use "backdrops" or "sets" as Hanlon knew them.
The morning Hanlon went to investigate the place there was no one around, so he was not stopped nor disturbed while he made a complete tour of the underground rooms, and stepped off the measurements of the stage. One great lack amused him.
"What?" he chuckled, "no popcorn or soft drink dispenser robots?"
He had noticed when attending previous performances, that they used no type of footlights or other illumination whatever, and that it was hard for those in the back of the enclosure to see what was going on down in the center. By judicious inquiry he found that on the nights when it stormed or was cloudy, or when Estrella's two moons were not in the sky, there was no performance.
Following his inspection of the theatre, Hanlon went to the market place again. He hunted out a stall where lamps were sold, and after the usual considerable haggling and dickering, bought twenty of the most powerful of the peculiar carbide lamps at a fairly reasonable price. Then he hunted up a metal-worker, and had reflectors made to his order and specifications, and fitted to one side of the lamps.
"I'll introduce 'em to something new," he grinned, then was suddenly worried. "Or are such new customs and innovations taboo on this screwy world?"
Another thought occurred to him the second day, and he hunted around for some time until he found a place where masks were made. The customer, who specialized in things for actors, did not have what Hanlon wanted, but after it had been described, the merchant said it would not be hard to make, and that it could be delivered the next afternoon. So Hanlon ordered a face-mask for himself, that would look like the head of a roch.
Meantime, he continued working with the animals whenever he had time. He was now well satisfied with his ability to control them under all circumstances. He felt sure he would have no trouble in "putting on a good act", and his only worry was whether or not he could please these strange people. For so much depended upon his making good—if he did, he would be more solidly in the good graces of the impresario, Yandor. And that was the main thing he was after right now.
The night of Hanlon's first performance finally arrived—and so did a nice large attack of stage-fright. There were "butterflies in his stomach", and he was by turns wet with sweat and almost petrified. Peeking out from the top of the stairs leading to the dressing rooms, the sight gave Hanlon a prime case of the jitters. For it seemed all the high officials, business and professional men, and the "social group" of Stearra, with their wives and families, were there. Even the Ruler was seated at stage-side in a large, ornate throne-chair, having been persuaded by Yandor that he would see something most exceptional.