"No," Kesley said. "Tell him—"
"Just one moment," the robot interrupted. "I'll arrange for an appointment. Your name, please?"
"Dale Kesley."
There was the momentary clicking of data-sorters over memory banks.
Then the robot said: "Confirmation requested. Was the name Dale Kesley?"
"That's right."
"The Duke will see you at once, Dale Kesley. I will escort you to him."
A little surprised, Kesley nodded. "That'll be fine."
The robot glided away on its treads toward a lift-ramp. Kesley followed, suppressing his impatience.
He wondered if the Duke of Antarctica would be surrounded by long rows of halberdiers. Somehow he doubted it.