Rockford was waiting in the cabin, still in the easy-chair.
"Well," Rockford said, "what do you think of her?"
Hunter tried to keep the personal dislike out of his coldly formal reply:
"If you refer to your suggestion that I not make love to her, sir, I can assure you that such a suggestion was never necessary. I happen to have a code of ethics."
"I didn't say 'make love'. I said, 'fall in love'. That's quite ethical. Did you complete your discussion with her?"
"Well ... no."
"You must do that this afternoon, then. Can't let anything as important as that be delayed."
Hunter stared at him, trying to find one small grain of sanity in Rockford's actions. The Verdam empire already had Jardeen within its grasp, and Vesta, and the end for Earth was inevitable. And Rockford slept, and drank beer, and regarded it as very important that the Vestan Space Guard discussions—of a change that Narf would never permit—be continued without delay.
He walked slowly into his own room. In the nightmare situation of frustration there was one single sane and stable conviction for his mind to cling to: Supreme Command would by now have received his message and shot back the reply that would relieve Rockford of his command. Perhaps it wasn't yet too late—