The President smiled. The humming sound ceased. The young man arose, forestalling further questions.
"This way, if you will be so kind."
The President and the Press Secretary followed the young man from the room into a low corridor. The walls of this passage were transparent and the President caught his breath at the grandeur outside. He got the impression they were moving from the small ship to a larger one perched precariously on the edge of an abyss. Below, under bright moonlight, lay the snow-covered approaches to Ranier and her sister peaks. A view of overpowering majesty such as few men had ever seen. One of the reasons, the President thought, why some men join the air force.
They entered another room, this one with a blue motif, through another door that opened automatically on approach, and into one of pastel green.
This room was somewhat larger but no more ornate nor less efficiently furnished than the others. A streamlined, oval desk sat in its center from the far side of which a man arose and held forth his hand.
He was slim as a reed and had snow-white hair. He gave the impression of ripe years yet with no physical indications of this other than a head of beautiful snow-white hair. Perhaps, the President thought, this indication was an illusion. And perhaps the aura of power emanating from the man was also an illusion but the President would not have been willing to bet on it.
The man's smile was an odd mixture of friendliness and impersonality as they shook hands. He said, "My name is Rex, Mr. President. The fact that in one of your languages the word means king is purely coincidental. I am not a monarch in any sense. My title is Director of the Seventh Sector."
As Rex had got to his feet, the chair under him had swung under the desk out of his way. Now it moved back to its original position. And as the President took the seat Rex indicated beside the desk, he had a whimsical thought: I wonder how that chair knew he was ready to sit down again?
Rex nodded to the young man in the pastel-red uniform. The latter bowed slightly, turned and left the room. Rex turned his dark eyes—almost feminine in their beauty—on the President. His quick smile was even more impersonal now. "Shall we get to the business at hand, or could you do with a little refreshment first?"