This certainly isn't the first time the division heads have spoken to one another since Granitefell, but they haven't exactly seen much of one another. So there's something nostalgic about this. Byerly prepares coffee, and assembles a plate of breads and cheeses from the kitchens, and sets it all up in the peace room, and sits, and waits. He is, for once in his life, early.

He's asked the others to come. He hasn't told them what it's about - simply that it's a diplomatic matter. Whatever it is, it seems it's not the most dire matter: He smiles at the others when they arrive, and his lazy hound-dog Whiskey lies at his feet, snoring gently.

"Good afternoon, dear fellows," he says when they've assembled. "Have some coffee."