"Now," he said, propping his fists on his hips and flaring his robe out even further, "perhaps someone will enlighten me. I'm looking for McWorther's World. It's supposed to be here."
Titus poured a triple, undiluted julep and gulped down half of it. He said, "You're standing on it."
"This! That's impossible! What's the population?"
"Two—not counting the transients." Titus started to offer the Emperor the rest of his julep, thought better of it and drank it himself.
Roswell withdrew from his dejection, looked up and nodded, verifying the Emperor's stark suspicion. It was apparent that the President was only then aware of the Emperor's identity. And the latter was obviously no less surprised on recognizing his counterpart from the Western Cluster.
They only stared uncertainly at each other while the hundreds of virtuosos, sensing the propriety of demonstrating their loyalty, split into two groups and took sides behind their respective leaders.
Roswell laughed finally. It was a high-pitched, unnatural sound that conveyed no glee at all and grew only more ragged as his shifting stare once again took in the completely ruined merchandise on the surface, the practically irretrievable cargoes adrift in space. His pitiable outburst suggested an infinity of futility over the wanton waste. It spoke wordlessly of sterility for hundreds of productive worlds over the years ahead—economic sterility, and its inevitable consequence of military impotence.
The Emperor watched him for a moment, then dropped to the veranda rail beside him. He didn't join in the almost hysterical laughter. But his glum features reflected sympathetic appreciation of Roswell's predicament. And in his heavy silence was the admission that the circumstances were mutual.
McWorther's World trembled again. Titus inclined his head to one side, jiggling a finger in his ear to stop it from popping. He could have sworn, too, that he had seen the Emperor and the President levitate a good several inches off the rail.
Edna stalked from the house, surveyed the new arrivals without giving any indication she had recognized them and wagged a finger in her husband's face.