Chapter Eleven
Cocktails
“The memory of a computer is useless without the password.”—The Mae West robot
Manifesto the Great’s footman, with a gentle knock, entered the room with a “sir.”
The two men stopped as Manifesto the Great’s footman silently slid a plate by Manifesto the Great’s elbow.
The Librarian stared at the large meatloaf slice oozing cheese, garnished with a prawn fish salad smothered in pink dressing.
It was the sort of food rarely seen apart from celebration days.
Manifesto the Great’s footman eyed the empty jug.
“More cocktails, sir?” said Manifesto the Great’s footman.
Manifesto the Great nodded.
Manifesto the Great’s footman, with a crisp click of his heels, left the room.
The Librarian watched as Manifesto the Great slid his fork into the prawn and dipped it
