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Updated: May 10, 2025
Likewise, psychosomatic controls that can handle any ordinary wound we might permit them to inflict. We gave them the illusion of slaughtering and torturing us, but our numbers did not dwindle." "Why did you give them such an illusion?" Joyce asked. "And you say you permitted them to inflict wounds ?" Venor nodded.
Only a few generations ago the Markovians pirated and plundered these worlds, and now they pose as little tin gods with a silver halo. Why?" Sal Karone stood by with a look of horror on his face, but Venor made no sign of alarm at this forbidden question. He merely inclined his held slowly and repeated, "How was the wild dog tamed, and a saddle put upon the fierce stallion?"
One thing he could understood, however, was the Markovians reluctance to have visitors and their careful watch over them. Marthasa had been more than a host, he thought. He was a guard as well, trying to keep the Terrans from discovering the unpleasant reality concerning the influence of the Ids. He had slipped in allowing the visit to Venor.
"How did you apply that to the Markovians?" asked Joyce in almost a whisper. "It was one of the most difficult programs we have ever undertaken," said Venor. "There were comparatively few of us and such a tremendous population of Markovians. We had predicted long ago, even before the organization of the Council, the situation would grow critical and dangerous.
"There is a saying among us," said Venor kindly. "Translated into your tongue it would be: How was the wild dog tamed, and a saddle put upon the fierce stallion?" Stubbornly, then, Venor would say no more about the philosophy of the Idealists.
The best thing they could do was go somewhere else in the Nucleus and make a fresh start. Venor shook his head, smiling. "We will see each other again, Joyce and Cameron. I feel that the day will be very soon." It was senseless to let himself be irritated by the senile patriarch who spoke out of a world of illusion but Cameron could not help feeling nettled as he started back to the city.
I am told that your profession and your purpose in being here is the study of races and their actions and the things they have learned." With a start, Cameron came to greater attention. He was certain he had never given any such information in the presence of Sal Karone or Marthasa. Yet even Venor knew he was a sociologist!
"Wherever my people are," answered Venor, "strife ceases and peace comes. Who can do this is master of worlds." There was a strange solemnity about the voice and figure of the old Idealist that checked the sense of ridiculousness in Cameron. It seemed somehow strangely moving. "You believe the worlds are better," he asked gently, "just because you are there?"
"I have the feeling that we missed something," she said, as they changed clothes to join Marthasa and his wife. "There was something Venor wanted us to know and wouldn't say. I would almost like to go back there again before we go away." Cameron was surprised at his own annoyance with Joyce's statement. It reflected the impressions in his own mind which he was trying to ignore.
"Our name is known," said Venor. "We are the Idealists. You will not find many worlds on which we are unknown, and they call us the ones who serve. Even on your world you have the saying of a philosopher who taught that any who would be master should become the servant of all. Your people once understood it." "Not as a literal undertaking," said Cameron.
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