"Well, sir," Bor Mellistos said, "it varies. Vulcan, for instance--the person who called himself Vulcan, or Hephaestus--will probably get off with a lighter sentence than the others. He was a mechanic, brought along under some duress to service the machine. But the sentences will be severe, you may be sure. Very severe." Forrester didn't feel like asking any more questions about that. There was a pause. He looked at Diana again, and she looked back at him. "Do you accept?" Bor Mellistos said. Forrester and the others nodded. Bor Mellistos said: "Very well. In that case, I will inform the other eleven Overseers already picked that they will be met by you here, on Mount Olympus, and that--" But Forrester wasn't listening. He had begun whistling, very softly. The song he was whistling was Tenting Tonight.