Cubs of the Wolf | Page 3

some miracle of all miracles, when they parted their
fingers for a scared glimpse, the threat had disappeared.
"When they could breathe a little more easily it seemed a foolish thing
to bring out this old skeleton from the closet again, so a perpetual state
of hush was established. Finally, the whole thing was practically
forgotten except for a short paragraph in an occasional history text. But
no politician or historian has ever dared publicly to question the
mysterious why of the Markovian's about-face."
"Sociologists should have done it long ago," said Joyce.

"There was always the political pressure, of course," said Cameron.
"But the real reason was simply our preoccupation with making
bibliographies of each others' papers. It's going to take a lot of leg work,
something in which our formal courses don't give us any basic training.
Fothergill understands that--it's why he pushed me so hard with the
Foundation. And Riley up there is capable of seeing it, too.
"I showed him that here was a complex of at least a hundred and ten
major planets, inhabited by a fairly homogenous, civilized people,
speaking from a technological point of view at least. And almost
overnight some force changed the entire cultural posture. I made him
see that identification of that force is of no small interest to us right
now. If it operated once, it could operate again--and would its results be
as happy a second time?
"Riley got the Foundation to kick through enough for you and me to
make a start. A preliminary survey is about all it will amount to,
actually, but if we show evidence of something tangible I'll get my
degree, you'll get your basic certification--and we'll both return in
charge of a full-scale inquiry with a staff big enough to really dig into
things next year.
"Now--about this matter of marriage which you didn't want me to speak
of--"
"Keep talking, Cam--you're doing wonderfully!"
* * * * *
They got married at once, even though there were several weeks of
school which had to be finished before they could leave. Among their
friends on the campus there were a good many whispered remarks
about the insanity of Joyce and Cameron in planning such a fantastic
excursion, but Joyce was certain there was as much envy as criticism in
the eyes of her associates. It might be true when they asserted that
every conceivable sociological factor or combination of factors could
be found and analyzed right here in the Solar System, but a husband
who could finagle a way to combine a honeymoon trip halfway across

space with his graduate research thesis was a rare specimen. Joyce
played her advantage for all it was worth.
Two weeks before departure time, however, Cameron was called to the
office of Professor Fothergill. As he entered he found a third man
present, wearing a uniform he recognized at once as belonging to the
Council Secretariat.
"I'll wait outside," he said abruptly as Fothergill turned. "I got your
message and came right over. I didn't know--"
"Sit down," said Fothergill. "Cameron, this is Mr. Ebbing, whose
position you no doubt recognize. Mr. Ebbing, Mr. Wilder."
The men shook hands and took seats across from each other. Fothergill
sat between them at the polished table. "The Council, it seems, has
developed an interest in your proposed research among the
Markovians," he said. "I'll let Mr. Ebbing tell you about it."
Cameron felt a sinking anticipation within him as he turned to the
secretary. Surely the Council wasn't going to actively oppose the
investigation after so long a time!
The secretary coughed and shuffled the papers he drew from his case.
"It's not actually the Council's interest," he said, and Cameron was
immediately relieved. "But I have been asked by the Markovian
Nucleus, through their representative, to suggest that they would like to
save you the long and unnecessary trip. He offers to co-operate to the
fullest degree by causing all necessary materials to be transferred to
your site of study right here. He feels that this is the least they can do
since so much interest appears to exist in the Nucleus."
Cameron stared at the secretary, trying to discern what the man's own
attitude might be, but Ebbing gave no sign of playing it any way but
straight.
"It sounds like a polite invitation to stay home and mind our own
business," said Cameron finally. "They don't want company."

The secretary's expression changed to acknowledgment of the correct
appraisal. "They don't want any investigation into the Metamorphosis
of the Markovian Nucleus. There is no such thing. It is entirely a
myth."
"Says the Markovians--!"
Ebbing nodded. "Says the Markovians. Other worlds, both within and
without the Council have persisted in spreading tales and rumors about
the Markovians for a