The breath came out in an explosion. "All right," Mars said. "Discounting the training end of things, and assuming that Hermes can fix up the glandular mess, I think he can pass the physical." Forrester wasn't sure that he liked being referred to as a glandular mess. On the other hand, he asked himself, what could he do about it? He stood quietly, wondering what was coming next. His worst fears were fulfilled. Venus stepped forward and gave her report. Basically, it was a codicil, of a rather specialized nature, to the physical report. While it was going on, Forrester glanced at Athena. She looked every bit as embarrassed as he felt, and her face wore a look of sheer pain. Once he thought she was going to leave the room, but she remained grimly seated until it was all over. Forrester couldn't figure out, when he thought about it, how the Gods had managed to give him all these tests without his knowing anything about it. But, then, they were supernatural, weren't they? And they had their own methods. A mortal didn't have to understand them. Forrester wasn't sure he was happy with that idea, but he clung to it. It was the only one he had. When Venus finished her report, there was a little silence. "Any other comments?" Hera whispered to her husband. "Ah, yes," Zeus said. "Other comments. If anyone has any other comments to make, please make them now. Now is the time to make them." He sat back. Morpheus stirred slightly and spoke without opening his eyes or sitting up. "Sleep," he said. Hera said: "Sleep?" "Very important," Morpheus said slowly, "the candidate sleeps pretty well--soundly, as a matter of fact. The only trouble is that he doesn't get enough sleep. But then, no one on this entire crazy world ever does." He yawned and added: "Not even me." Forrester passed a hand over his forehead. He realized, very suddenly, that he had come to a conclusion somewhere during the meeting. He was, he told himself, definitely sane. That left another conclusion. He was not dreaming anything that was happening. It was all perfectly real. And he was about to become a demi-God. That in itself didn't sound so bad. But he began to wonder, in a quiet sort of way, just what was going to happen to William Forrester, acolyte and history professor, when Forrester/Bacchus had became a reality. With a blunt shock he knew that there was only one answer. William Forrester was going to die. It didn't matter what the verdict of the Gods was. There were more tests coming, he knew, and if he failed them the Gods would kill him quite literally and quite completely. But, he went on, suppose he passed the tests. In that case he was going to become Forrester/Bacchus, a substitute God. Plain old Bill Forrester would cease to exist entirely. Oh, a few traces might remain--his Beta curve, for instance, whatever that was. But Bill Forrester would be gone. Somehow, the idea of a revenant Beta curve didn't make up for the basic loss.