Lin Mei did not look up from the carriage of her Underwood typewriter.
Her fingers danced across the round nickel keys with the precision of a high-speed telegraph operator. The sharp, mechanical clack-clack-clack of the typebars echoed off the obsidian table, cutting through the low hum of the cooling fans and the bubbling hiss of Silas Thorne’s diving bell.
Beside the cast-iron typewriter frame, her Pickett N4-ES aluminum slide rule sat on a dry section of the mahogany table. Her left hand slid the cursor runner back and forth with rhythmic, microscopic flicks.
“Principal value of surrendered asset,” Lin Mei murmured aloud, her voice cool and completely steady. “Surrendered surname ‘VANCE’, municipal census file NL-1996-STERLING, deposited October twenty-first, nineteen ninety-six at zero-one-hundred hours.”
She glanced at the mainframe readouts flashing on the green IBM monitors.
“Assessed asset valuation at time of deposit: seventy-four thousand two hundred and twelve dollars, based on thirty-two years of un-blemished retail pension equity and municipal civil service grade seven rating.”
“Check the statutory compounding rate, Lin Mei,” Julian said, standing right beside her shoulder. His Dixon Phano #77 yellow grease pencil was poised over his Contradiction Ledger.
“New Marrow Commercial Escrow Code Section 1924-44,” Lin Mei replied without hesitation. “Statutory compound interest rate on un-returned civil escrow deposits: six point zero zero percent per annum, compounded daily.”
