"We can and we will. She did not win it here. She simply happened to be here when the drawing took place elsewhere. Please stand aside; we're leaving."
Then we had to do it all over again for J.B. He was a dignified old duck with a cigar in one side of his mouth and sticky white cake icing on his upper lip. He was neither slow nor stupid but he was in the habit of seeing his wishes carried out and Georges had to mention American Express quite loudly before he got it through his skull that I would not hold still for any publicity whatever (Boss would faint!) and that we were about to go to those Rialto moneychangers rather than deal with his firm.
"But Miss Bulgrin is a MasterCard client."
"No," I disagreed. "I had thought that I was a MasterCard client but Mr. Chambers refused to honor my credit. So I'll start an account with American Express. Without photographers."
"Chambers." There was the knell of doom in his voice. "What Is This?"
Chambers explained that my credit card had been issued through the Imperial Bank of Saint Louis.
"A most reputable house," J.B. commented. "Chambers. Issue her another card. On us. At once. And collect her winning ticket for her." He looked at me and took his cigar out of his mouth. "No publicity. The affairs of MasterCard's clients are always confidential. Satisfactory, Miss Walgreen?"
"Quite, sir."
"Chambers. Do it."
"Yes, sir. What credit limit, sir?"
"What extent of credit do you require, Miss Belgium? Perhaps I should ask that in crowns-what is your amount with my colleagues
in Saint Louis?" -
"I am a gold client, sir. My account is always reckoned in bullion rather than crowns under their two-tier method for gold customers. Can we figure it that way? You see, I'm not used to thinking in bruins. I travel so much that it is easier for me to think in grams of gold." (It is almost unfair to mention gold to a banker in asoft-currency country; it clouds his thinking.)
"You wish to pay in gold?"
"If I may. By draft in grams, three nines, on Ceres and South Africa Acceptances, Luna City office. Would that be satisfactory? I usually pay quarterly-you see, I travel so much-but I can instruct C. and S. A. A. to pay you monthly if quarterly is not convenient."
"Quarterly is quite satisfactory." (Of course it was-the interest charges pile up.)
"Now the credit limit- Truthfully, sir, I don't like to place too much of my financial activity in any one bank or any one country. Shall we hold it down to thirty kilos?"
"If that is your wish, Miss Bedlam. If you ever wish to increase it, just let us know." He added, "Chambers. Do it."
So we went back to the same office in which I had been told that my credit was no good. Mr. Chambers offered me an application form. "Let me help you fill it out, miss."
I glanced at it. Parents' names. Grandparents' names. Place and date of birth. Addresses including street numbers for the past fifteen years. Present employer. Past employer immediately preceding. Reason for leaving past employment. Present rate of pay. Bank accounts. Three references from persons who have known you at least ten years. Have you ever applied for bankruptcy or had a petition of involuntary receivership filed against you or been a director or responsible officer of any business, partnership, or corporation that has applied for reorganization under paragraph thirteen of Public Law Ninety-Seven of the California Confederacy Civil Code? Have you ever been convicted of- "Friday. No."
"So I was about to say." I stood up.
Georges said, "Good-bye, Mn. Chambers."
"Something wrong?"
"But yes. Your employer told you to issue to Miss Baldwin a gold credit card with a limit of thirty kilograms, fine gold; he did not tell you to subject her to an impertinent quiz."
"But this is a routine require-"
"Never mind. Just tell J.B. you flubbed again."
Our Mn. Chambers turned a light green. "Do please sit down."
Ten minutes later we left, me with a brand-new gold-colored credit card good anywhere (I hoped). In exchange I had listed my Saint Louis P.O. box number, my next-of-kin address (Janet), and my account number in Luna City with a written instruction to bill C and S.A.A., Ltd. quarterly for my debts. I also had a comfortable wad of bruins and another like it of crowns, and a receipt for my lottery ticket.
We left the building, crossed the corner into National Plaza, found a bench, and sat down. It was just eighteen, pleasantly cool but the sun was still high above the Santa Cruz Mountains.
Georges inquired, "Dear Friday, what are your wishes?"
"To sit here for a moment and collect my thoughts. Then I should buy you a drink. I won a lottery; that calls for buying a drink. At least."
"At least," he agreed. "You won two hundred thousand bruins for... twenty bruins?"
"A dollar," I agreed. "I tipped her the change."
"Near enough. You won about eight thousand dollars."
"Seventy-four hundred and seven dollars and some cents."
"Not a fortune but a respectable sum of money."
"Quite respectable," I agreed, "for a woman who started the day dependent on the charity of friends. Unless I'm credited something for my 'adequate' performance last night."
"My brother Ian would prescribe a fat lip for that remark. I wanted to add that, while seventy-four hundred is a respectable sum, I find myself more impressed by the fact that, with no assets other than that lottery ticket, you persuaded a most conservative credit banking firm to extend to you an open account in the amount of a
million dollars, reckoned in gold. How did you do it, dear? You didn't even wiggle. Not even a sultry tone of voice."
"But, Georges, you caused them to issue me their band."
"I don't think so. Oh, I did try to back your play... but you initiated each move."
"Not the one about that horrid questionnaire! You got me out of that."
"Oh. That silly ass had no business quizzing you. His boss had already ordered him to issue the card."
"You saved me. I was about to lose my nerve. Georges-dear Georges!-I know that you have told me that I must not be uneasy about what I am-and I'm trying, I truly am!-but to be faced with a form that demands to know all about my parents and grandparents-it's dismaying!"
"Can't expect you to get well overnight. We'll keep working on it. You certainly did not lose your nerve oven how much credit to ask."
"Oh. I once heard someone say"-it was Boss-"that it was much easier to borrow a million than it was to borrow ten. So when they asked me, that's what I named. Not quite a million BritCan dollars. Nine hundred and sixty-four thousand, about."
"I'm not going to quibble. When we passed nine hundred thousand I ran out of oxygen. Adequate one, do you know what a professor is paid?"
"Does it matter? From what I know of the profession one successful new design of a living artifact can pay in the millions. Even millions of grams, rather than dollars. Haven't you had any successful designs? Or is that a rude question?"
"Let's change the subject. Where are we sleeping tonight?"
"We could be in San Diego in forty minutes. On in Las Vegas in thirty-five. Each has advantages and disadvantages for getting into the Impenium. Georges, now that I have enough money, I'm going to report in, no matter how many fanatics are assassinating officials. But I promise cross-my-heart to visit Winnipeg just as soon as I have a few days' leave."
"I may still be unable to return to Winnipeg."
"Or I'll come visit you in Montréal. Look, dear, we'll swap all the
addresses we have; I'm not going to lose you. You not only assure me that I'm human, you tell me that I'm adequate-you're good for my morale. Now choose, for I'll take either one: San Diego and talk Spanglish, or Vegas and look at pretty naked ladies."
XVII