"they
ought to."

* * * * *

A brief pause for appreciation, then Jocelyn was calling for all men's
attention. She managed to get it in reasonably short order, took a deep
breath, then dived into announcing that our "special guest, Mr. Fayliss"
was going to deliver a song-cycle.

Fayliss arose, bowed slightly, then nodded to Mark Loring, who brought
forth his oboe. "These songs were not conceived or composed in the form
I am presenting them," he said. "But I believe that the arrangement I
use is an effective one.

"I call this, 'Song of the Last Men'." He nodded again to Loring, and
the performance began. His voice was affecting, and his artistry
unmistakable. And there were overtones in his voice that gave an added
eeriness to the weird music itself.

The songs told of the feelings, the memories, and despair of a
nearly-extinct people--one which had achieved a great culture and a
world-wide civilization. The singer knows that the civilization has been
destroyed; that the people created by this culture and civilization are
gone, the few survivors being pitiful fellaheen, unable to rebuild or
bring forth a culture of their own. There is despair at the loss of the
comforts the civilization they knew brought them, sorrow at their
inability to share in its greatness--even in memory; and a resigned
certainty that they are the last of the race--they will soon be gone,
and no others shall arise after them.

There was silence when Fayliss finished, then discreet but firm
applause, as if the audience felt that giving full reign to their
approval would make an impious racket. Fayliss seemed to sense this
feeling, and smiled as he bowed.

"These are not songs of your people, are they?" asked Jocelyn.

Fayliss shook his head. "Oh no--they are far removed from us. I am
merely an explorer of past cultures and civilizations, and I enjoy
adapting such masterpieces of the past as I can find. This arrangement
was made for you; I shall make a different one for my own people, so
that the sonic values of the music and the words agree with each other."

Kutrov blinked, then asked him--"Well, can you tell us something more
about the people who created this cycle? It has a familiar ring to it,
yet I cannot tie it in with any past culture I have heard of."

Jocelyn cut in with the regretful announcement that Mr. Fayliss had
another appointment, and called for a note of thanks to him for coming.
More a