“. . . And the name of your corporation?”
“Urn . . . M.Y.T.H. Inc.”
He jotted the information down on a small notepad.
“Your home offices are on Klah?”
“No. We operate out of Deva . . . At the Bazaar.” He glanced up at me with his eyebrows raised, then caught himself and regained his composure.
“Would you happen to know what bank you deal with on Deva?”
“Bank? I mean, not really. Aahz and Bunny . . . our financial section usually handles that end of the business.” Any hope I had of a credit line went out the window. I didn’t know for sure we did any banking. Aahz was a stickler for keeping our funds readily available. I couldn’t imagine a bank wanting to deal with someone who didn’t trust banks, or to take my word for what our cash holdings were . . . even if I knew what they were.
The banker was studying his notes.
“Of course you understand, we’ll have to run a check on this.”
I started to rise. At this point all I wanted was out of his office.
“Certainly,” I said, trying to maintain a modicum of poise. “How long will that take, just so I’ll know when to contact you again?”
Malcolm waved a casual hand at me as he turned to a keyboard at the side of his desk.
“Oh, it won’t take any time at all. I’ll just use the computer to take a quick peek. I should have an answer in a couple of seconds.”
I couldn’t make up my mind whether to be astonished or concerned. Astonished won out.
“. . . But my office is on Deva,” I said, repeating myself unnecessarily.
“Quite right,” the banker responded absently as he hammered busily on the keys. “Fortunately, computers and cats can see and work right through dimensional barriers. The trick is to get them to do it when you want them to instead of when they feel like it.”