A scruffy chap makes a withdrawal
The banker and the client stared at each other.
There was really nothing else in the room to look at after all; two hard transparent plastic chairs and a small table, a ceiling light disc, all set in a small cubical steel room without a single other feature. Though neither could see them, the layers of faraday caging and lead shielding that lurked beyond the walls weighed heavily in both minds, and invited hushed tones.
The client saw a man studious in a generic gentle appeal; tan features probably tweaked towards this regions average, short dark hair with not a strand out of place, solid but unremarkable body in a charcoal black suit with a high cleric collared jacket. No nametag or ID, anyone who penetrated so deep into the bowels of the bank building would be individually tracked by security in real time. The Banker was relaxed and expectant; this was a standard procedure, if rare to enact.
The Banker saw a man tired and travel worn; his clothes clean but scuffed and bleached by decades of continual usage and clean cycles. Trousers and jacket of carapaced leather was worn over a top whose pastel colours and ribbed piping were probably the sole example of their kind in the whole Segmentum. The banker judged it either an eclectic fashion choice or the piping was meant to integrate with some sort of coolant system of a suit. The hat with its wide brims and tall crown was another oddity. The clients features were similarly off; pale beneath dark hair and stubble with a long sharp face and eyes whose iris was a near colourless milky white, and criss-crossed with tiny scars and a few big ones to create what was overall a quite sinister mien.
In the bankers opinion he wouldn't have picked this individual out of a random line up as knowing the code phrases to request such a secure meeting in such a secluded room. But know them he did, and here they were.
The Banker cleared his throat and begun, So what can the LOFG do for you Mr Harcet?
The clients replied in his rich and melodious voice, whose warmth quite belied his appearance, I would like to make a withdrawal.
He reached down a picked up a small leather satchel and removed three objects from it. As he placed them on the table the plastic shook with their surprising weight. Each was identical except for a differing serial number embossed in gold on the top and a different pattern of burns and scars that coated and chipped their near indestructible composite integument. Fist size spheres with a slice out the bottom to stop them rolling everywhere; layers of armour and shielding around a marble sized core of jet black cryptonium and its associated computer system. Nestled within the petabytes of random numbers on the core would be the most precious thing in the entirety of human space the details of a bankers draft.
The client quickly inspected the serial numbers, and gently nudged one of the drafts over to the bankers side of the table.
That one please
Thank you sir, I am required at this stage to inform you that once the read has taken place this particular draft will be stale, and if you want to reissue the draft we will have to fabricate a new one, which will take several days.
I understand
Do you have any local accounts set up here or in other Republic City institutions?
I thought that was part of the service?
Only on certain issued drafts, I assume you acquired such at our other office?
I think so, it was quite some years ago He traced the scuffs on one of the two drafts still on his side of the table as he said this. In the bankers opinion the damage theyd taken made it look like quite some decades ago. Hard decades at that.
The details of such will be in the Drafts files. Ill hand over to one of my colleagues who manages the local accounts for that side of things. We can probably conduct that in an office outside of the basement as well he replied with a professional smile.
That sounds well and good
Could you give formal voiceprint confirmation of requesting this draft be opened? The protocol-
Dont worry I know it. I, Perc Harcet, customer code five-alpha-six-eight-eight-alpha-nine-nine-zero, being under no duress or coercion, do hereby authorise the opening of Draft epsilon-delta-seven-seven-zero at the Republic City Branch of the Lessor Orion Financial Group.
Witnessed and recorded Of course the banker was recording the whole thing straight from his sensorium to an implant store, but there were niceties to be observed.
With ceremony dealt with the Banker picked up the Draft, and set his systems to work.
The transponders in his hand began talking to those in the device, and a channel was opened between its cryptonium core and the rather larger encrypted store on his implants. Much like in the device his cryptonium was also sheltered at the core of his being, a dark heart positioned just below his real heart and just above the explosive device that would instantly vaporise him and the surrounding building if he felt the secrets of his store were being compromised. Some of the more idiotic popular media made gross exaggerations of the Bank officers capabilities; in truth the main differences between the staffs augs and something a wealthy dweller on the spinwards worlds could buy were the quality of engineering in their armour sheathing and organ health implants, and these complex internal encryption processors. The Bank didnt put a lot of effort into dispelling the ignorant superstitions however. It took an appreciable few minutes of silence for his processors to find the one time pad in his store that matched the drafts and for verification to click into place. The instant it did the Draft was randomised and useless, and a signal propagated out from the bankers implants to the buildings network that that one time pad had been used and was now invalid. In the months and years to come that signal would be spread across the banks offices by interstellar data freighter drone, eventually reaching every nook and cranny of the financial groups far flung operations.
The one time pad in his implants had of course arrived via a similar method from the office that issued the draft, and as procedure dictates the Banker inspect the delivery path; Cathedral<-Alnitah<-Hexcali<-Head Office<-Reserve Office! This Draft had been issued in the Financial groups innermost sanctum; that stealthed habitat cluster whose very existence was denied to outsiders and whose location was shrouded in secrecy. The Banker had done a tour there when he was much younger, but those seven years of his life were wiped from his brain and files when he departed, leaving nothing but a blank void of memory and a great increase in certain areas of expertise. How could a client have visited there? Was Harcet a secret agent of the bank or another interstellar power? Had he had his memories excised as well?
The Banker had been physically shaken in surprise, and the Client looked at him curiously. He hurried on to assimilate the actual content of the Draft. The money was a princely but not ludicrous sum, enough for a lifetime of luxury or to purchase a medium level starship, and all the optional add-ons and insurance had been assigned. The notes field contained a single enigmatic sentence:
Facilitate his interest, deniably. RO
The banker sighed, sometimes it seemed the higher ups were just getting off on their own need for secrecy. He collected himself and slid the slick professionalism back into place to reply.
Ah it does appear you went for all the various assistance options we offer, a wise choice. We can certainly help you with any structuring or project you want to set up with your funds, guaranteed for twenty years of service.
That sounds great
What are your interests here at the Cathedral? Or is this just a short stop?
Well Im an Archaeologist