Bernibus' was one of apprehension, apparently on my behalf. It seemed
odd to me, but as Wagner became livid again quickly after his split-
second lapse and gave me a hearty "Good morning", I thought nothing more
of it. After his greeting, he continued:

"The day is ripe for victory, my friend, and the time is come for
battle. We both have some preparations to complete, and so must
separate, but we will meet again at noon in the entrance hall. Farewell
until then," and with that he quit the room.

I looked at Bernibus, yet before either of us could speak, we heard a
low, hollow grumbling, like the shaking of some building or foundation.
He looked in my direction for a moment with an alarmed countenance,
before I said defensively, "Tis but my stomach."

"Then we must get you some victuals," he laughed, "And I have just the
thing to satisfy you and keep you so for a day or more: some mirus. It
is our traditional energy food, for though its taste is bitter, its
after-life is pleasant."

"And what is food except a servant to the body?" I said, "Let us eat."

"Very well," he replied.

And eat we did, for it was brought by a food service Canitaur on a tray,
and I was surprised to see that it was a mixture of broccoli, spinach,
and mushrooms, with a flavorless, glowing sauce. He was right,
incidentally, for it was both bitter before and pleasant after its
consumption.