All eyes followed the massive, wrinkled old form as it made its way slowly through the aisles.
The Speaker bit his lip. He said, "The Conclave welcomes you, Olduk. We had feared that you would not be present."
Olduk paused and bowed. He said, in his guttural, unnatural tones, "Olduk thanks you."
"You wished to speak before the assembly?"
"Yes, please. The rostrum may I use?"
"Yes," said the Speaker, "the rostrum you may use."
A titter of laughter spread through the tiered seats.
Olduk paid none or small attention, even to the whisperings of two secretaries that his receptive, large ears picked up.
"Why does he keep up with this farce?" one asked. "Every year he gets up on the rostrum, and makes a speech, asking, as usual, for water. He's been denied exactly ten times."
"He'll get it in the neck this time," Olduk heard the other say knowingly. "The Spanish and Japanese Sectional Governors have had several bills thrown out this session, and they're spoiling for an argument. And whatever they say, they'll be speaking for the world."