Dr. Smith was waiting.
“Have a chair, senator,” he said. “Have a drink? Well, then, a cigar, maybe. What is on your mind?”
The senator took his time, getting himself adjusted to the chair. Grunting comfortably, he clipped the end off the cigar, rolled it in his mouth.
“Nothing particular on my mind,” he said. “Just dropped around to pass the time of day. Have a great and abiding interest in your work here. Always have had. Associated with it from the very start.”
The director nodded. “I know. You conducted the original hearings on life continuation.”
The senator chuckled. “Seemed fairly simple then. There were problems, of course, and we recognized them and we tried the best we could to meet them.”
“You did amazingly well,” the director told him. “The code you drew up five hundred years ago has never been questioned for its fairness and the few modifications which have been necessary have dealt with minor points which no one could have anticipated.”
“But it’s taken too long,” said the senator.
The director stiffened. “I don’t understand,” he said.
The senator lighted the cigar, applying his whole attention to it, flaming the end carefully so it caught even fire.