Raymond Jones: Cubs of the Wolf

”With complete disregard of any scheme of interplanetary rules or order they harassed and attacked peaceful shipping and inoffensive cultures throughout a wide territory. They were something demanding the Council's military action. But the Council lacked the strength.

”For years the Council dragged on, debating and threatening ineffectively. But nothing was ever done. And then, so gradually it was hardly noticed, the harassments began to die down. The warlike posturing was abandoned by the Markovians. Within a period of about seventy or eighty years there was a complete about-face. They wound up as good Indians, peaceful, coГ¶perative and intelligent members of the Council.”

”Didn't anybody ever find out why?” asked Joyce.

”No. Nobody wanted to find out. In the early years the worlds of the Council were hiding behind their collective hands hoping with all their might that the threat might go away if they kept their eyes closed long enough. And by 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 long time. They don't like it. They are willing to co-operate in having a correct analysis of their culture published, but they don't want any more of these infamous rumors circulated.”

”Then why aren't they willing to promote such an investigation? This would be their big chance — if their ridiculous position were true!”

”They are willing. I've told you the representative has offered to send you all needed material showing the status of their culture.”

Cameron looked at the secretary for a long time before speaking again. ”What's your position?” he asked finally. ”Are we being ordered off the investigation?”

”The Markovian representative doesn't want to go to quite that extreme. He knows that, too, would react unfavorably towards his people. Here's his point: So far, he's blocked news of your proposed research getting to his home worlds. But he knows that if you do carry it out in the manner you propose it is going to make a lot of the home folks mighty unhappy and they'll demand to know why he didn't stop it. So he's trying to satisfy both sides at once.”

”Why will the people in the Nucleus be made unhappy by our coming?”

”Because you'll go there trying to track down the basis for the rumors that defame the Markovian character. You'll bring forcibly to their attention the fact that the rest of the Universe believes the Markovians are basically a bunch of pirates.”

”And the Markovians don't like to hear these things?”

”Definitely not.”

”So you tell me the research is not being forbidden, but that the Markovians won't like it. Suppose I tell you, then, I'm not going to give up short of an order from the Council itself. But I am willing to camouflage the investigation if necessary. I'll make no open mention of what outside opinion says of the Markovians. I'll simply make a study of their history and character as it becomes available to me.”

Ebbing nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on Cameron's face. ”I would say that would be eminently satisfactory,” he said. ”I will inform the representative of your decision.”