Radar woke up that next morning with a dull throbbing headache that caused a pounding in his ears like some horses snorting. Opening his eyes, he found the valley and the camp spread out before him, everything as it should be, except, oddly enough, upside down, grassy green blanketing the sky, the palace of heaven's citadel an emerald green slide pointed lazily to the bright blue ground, blazing forth with the cross that reminded Radar, for a moment, of the cross on the Padre's collar.

"What's that doing up there?" he murmured. A sliver of drool was cooling his skin as it trickled up into his hair, and he pulled Qotenmatch closer and curled under his blanket as he sat up, feeling dizzy as he pulled his head upright and cuddled down in the makeshift nest he'd created in the cave across the field.

"Preparing Sunday Morning, ward," Bantelhopp spoke up, "In its

"Accustomed manner. Many sleep, still more

"Do dream, and dawn now puts the dead to sleep

"And parts the lovers lingering in their fear."

Radar leaned down and snatched his woolen cap off a stalagmite, standing back up with a stretch and a cheery bleat as he asked, "Majors Face and Lips?" He hopped over the lip of the cave and landed, wobbling, in the dirt, his cap in one hand and bear in the other. "They aren't afraid of anything."

He lifted a hand and rubbed gently at the silky underside of the dragon, who squawked loudly and mind-whispered the locations of the deep- coated iron death, and he was off, dashing back towards the glowing green of the camp that spread in the morning light, deftly dipping his pace between the threats of the landmines, and duly coming out unscathed on the other side.

Behind the head nurse's tent.

He smiled. 3... 2...

He took a breath and hastened around the building just in time to bump into Frank Burns as the Major had just finished his left-right lookout, and was hurrying to cross the compound before anyone--

"AAaaA!" Frank shouted out.

Radar, looking up with an unphased air, smiled, "Sleep well, sir?"

"Oh, I wasn't sleeping!" Frank automatically spit out in defense.

"If you say so, sir." Radar watched with amusement hidden under his customary wide-eyed stare as Frank's assertion and Radar's response finally registered with the flustered Major.

Frank Burns' face twisted up in the manner of one thoroughly constipated. "You! You and your stupid bear have until the count of three to get out of my sight! One!"

Radar lifted his woolen cap, and, whipping it up under Frank's nose, pulled it backward so that it engulfed the entire top half of the surgeon's head. Frank, stunned by the response, didn't move, but stood there with his mouth hanging open.

Radar shrugged, and turned aside. "Officers," he bleated gaily.

~