Cubs of the Wolf | Page 6

a polite acknowledgment came back from the
Nucleus assuring them a warm welcome and congratulating them on
their marriage. They went at once to the spaceport and took over their
stateroom. "Before anything else happens to try to pull us off this
investigation," Cameron said.
The trip would be a long one, involving more than two months
subjective time, because no express runs moved any distance at all in
the direction of the Nucleus. It was necessary to transfer three times,
with days of waiting between ships on planets whose surface conditions
permitted exploration only in cumbersome suits that could not be worn
for more than short periods. Most of the waiting time was spent in the
visitors' chambers at the landing fields.
These seemed to grow progressively worse. The last one could not
maintain a gravity below 2G, and the minimum temperature available
was 104 degrees. There was a three-day wait here and Joyce spent most
of it lying on the bed, under the breeze of a fan which seemed to have
required a special dispensation of the governing body to obtain.
[Illustration: CAMERON]
Cameron, however, was unwilling to spend his time this way in spite of
the discomfort imposed by any kind of activity. Humidity was a
physical factor which seemed to have gone undiscovered by the
inhabitants of the planet they were on. He was sure it was constantly

maintained within a fractional per cent of one hundred as he donned a
clean pair of trunks and staggered miserably along the corridor toward
a window that gave a limited view of the city about them.
That was when he discovered that they were to be accompanied on the
remainder of the journey by a Markovian citizen and his Id servant.
The visitors' chamber in which these semi-terran conditions were
supplied consisted of only three suites. The other two had been empty
when Cameron and Joyce arrived the night before. Now a Markovian
Id occupied a seat by the window. He glanced up with warm
friendliness and invited Cameron to join him.
Cameron hesitated, undecided for a moment whether to return to his
suite for the portable semantic translator used in his profession at times
like this. He always felt there was something decidedly unprofessional
about resorting to their use and had spent many hours trying to master
Markovian before leaving. He understood the Id well enough and
decided to see if he could get along without the translator.
"Thanks," he said, taking a seat. "I don't suppose there's much else to
do except look at the scenery here."
The Id showed obvious surprise that Cameron spoke the language
without use of an instrument. His look of pleasure increased. "It is not
often we find one of your race who has taken the trouble to make
himself communicable with us. You must be expecting to make a long
stay?"
Cameron's sense of caution returned as he remembered the previous
results of indiscreet announcement of his purpose. He wiped the stream
of sweat from his face and neck and took a good look at the Id.
* * * * *
The Idealists were of an anthropomorphic race, dark-skinned like the
terran Indian. Very few of them had ever appeared on Earth, however,
and this was actually Cameron's first view of one in the flesh. He knew

something of their reputation and characteristics from very brief study
at the Institute--but no one really knew very much of the Ids as far as
Earthmen were concerned. The warning of Fothergill to keep to the
main line of his research sank to the bottom of his mind as he leaned
toward the stranger with a fresh sense of excitement inside him.
"I have never felt you could understand another man unless you spoke
his language," he said in his not too stumbling Markovian.
The Id, like himself, was dressed in the briefest of garments and
perspiration poured from the dark skin as he nodded. "You speak
sounder wisdom than one usually meets in a stranger," he said. "May I
introduce myself: Sal Karone, servant of the Master Dalls Ret
Marthasa?"
Cameron introduced himself and cautiously explained that he and
Joyce were on their honeymoon, but had a side interest in the history
and customs of the Markovian Nucleus. "My people know so little
about you," he said, "it would be a great privilege to be able to take
back information that would increase our mutual understanding."
"All that the Idealists have belongs to every man and every race," said
Sal Karone solemnly. "What we can give you may be had for the
asking. But I would give you a word of warning about my Masters."
Cameron felt the flesh of his back tingle with sudden chill as the eyes
of the Id turned