en mere enthusiasm, Cameron could have taken it with
tolerant understanding. But Marthasa's smugness and arrogance had not
deserted him once since the beginning of this leg of the trip.
Objectively, as a cultural facet to be examined, it was interesting, but
Cameron agreed with Joyce that it was going to be difficult to live
with.

The unsolved puzzle, however, was Sal Karone. It was obvious that the Id
was sensitive to the gauche ways of the Master, yet his equally obvious
devotion was unwavering.

Marthasa had sent word ahead to the government that he desired the
Terrans to be his guests. Evidently he was a person of influence for
assent was returned immediately.

His planet was a colorful world, banded by huge, golden deserts and
pinkish seas. The dense vegetation of the habitable areas was blue with
only a scattered touch of green. Cameron wondered about the chemistry
involved.

The landing was made at a port that bordered a sea. The four of them
were the only ones disembarking, and before the car that met them had
reached the edge of the city the ship was gone again.

A pirates' lair, Cameron thought, without the slightest touch of
amusement. The field looked very old, and from it he could imagine
raiders had once taken off to harass distant shipping and do wanton
destruction of cities and peoples on innocent worlds.

He watched the face of Marthasa as they rode through the city. There was
a kind of Roman splendor in what they saw, and there was a crude Roman
pride in the Markovian who was their host. The arrogance, that was not
far from cruelty, could take such pride in the sweep of spaceships
embarking on missions of murder and plunder.

And yet all this barbarism had been put aside. Only the arrogance
remained, expressed in Marthasa's tone as he called their attention to
the features of the city and landscape through which they passed. It
wasn't pleasing particularly to Terran tastes, but Cameron guessed that
it represented a considerable accomplishment to the Markovians. Stone
appeared to be the chief building material, and, while the craftsmanship
was exact, the lines of the structures lacked the grace of the Greek and
Roman monuments of which Cameron was reminded.

They came at last to the house of Marthasa. There was no doubt now that
he was a man of wealth or importance--probably both. He occupied a vast,
villa-like structure set on a low hill overlooking the city. It was a
place of obvious luxury