“Wrong,” he said deflatingly. “The interest was 12. 3072, wasn’t it?” “Well, yes, but you can’t add seventy-two-hundredths of a centime to someone’s account, can you?” “Not easily, since financial accounts are kept to two decimal places. Yet it is at this precise moment in the calculations that the bank has a choice. It can round all decimals above . 005 up to the nearest centime, all those below . 0049 down to zero. At the epd of a day’s trading the rounding-ups and rounding-downs will average out very close to zero so the bank will not be out of pocket. Or, and this is the accepted practice, the bank can throw away all decimal places after the first two, thereby making a small but consistent profit. Small on banking terms-but very large as far as an individual is concerned. If the bank’s computer is rigged so that all the rounding-downs are deposited to a single account, why at the end of the day the computer will show the correct balance in the bank’s account and in the client’s accounts. Everyone will be quite pleased.” I was punching like fury into my calculator, then chuckled with glee at the results. “Exactly so. All are pleased – including the holder of that account that now holds the round-downs. For if only a half a centime is whipped from ten-thousand accounts, the profit is a round fifty bucks!” “Exactly. But a large bank will have a hundred times that number of accounts. Which is, as I know from happy experience, a weekly income of five-thousand bucks for whoever sets up this seam.” “And this, this is your smallest and simplest bit of computer tomfoolery?” I asked in a hushed voice.
“It is. When one begins to access large corporative computers, the sums become unbelievable. It is such a pleasure to operate at these levels. Because if one is careful and leaves no traces, the corporations have no idea that they haye even been fiddled! They don’t want to know about it, don’t even believe it when faced with the evidence. It is very hard to get convicted of computer crime. It is a fine hobby for one of my mature years. It keeps me busily engaged and filthy rich. I have never been caught. Ahh, yes, except once...” He sighed heavily and I felt mortified.
“My fault!” I cried. “If I had not tried to contact you, why you would never have got involved with the Feds.” “No guilt, Jim, feel no guilt over that. I misjudged their security controls, far more rigid than the ones I had been dealing with. It was my mistake-and I certainly paid for it. Am still paying. I am not decrying the safety of our refuge here, but this junk Tood begins to wear on one after a bit. Or perhaps ‘you haven’t noticed?” “This is the staff of life of my generation.” “Of course. I had not thought of that. The horse tires not of hay, the porcuswine will snuffle up his swill greedily unto eternity. “ “And you could probably tuck into lobster and champagne for the next century. “ “Well-observed and correct, my boy. How long do you think that we shall be here?” he asked, pushing away half of an unconsumed portion of crumptumps.
“I would say a minimum of two weeks more.” A shudder shivered his frame.
“It will be a good opportunity for me to reduce. “, “By that time the heat of the chase will have died down considerably. We will still have to avoid public transportation for a good while after that. However I have prepared an escape route that should be secure fairly soon.” “Dare I ask what it is?” “A boat, rather a cabin cruiser on the Sticks River. I bought it some time ago, in a corporative name, and it is at the marinajust outside Biliville.” “Excellent!” He rubbed his hands with glee. ‘The end of summer, a cruise south, fried catfish in the evening, bottles of wine cooling in the stream, steaks at riverside restaurants. “ “And a sex change for me.” He biinked rapidly at that, then sighed with relief when I explained. “I’ll wear girl’s clothes when I’m aboard and can be seen from the shore, at least until we are well away from here.” “Capital. I shall lose some weight-there will be no difficulty dieting here. Raise a moustache, then a beard, die my hair black again. It is something to look forward to. But shall we say one month instead of two weeks? I could last that amount of time incarcerated in this gustatorial ghetto as long as I would not be eating. My figure will be the better for the extra weeks, my hair and moustache longer. “ “I can do it if you can.” “Then it is agreed. And we shall make the most of the time now by forwarding your education? RAM, ROM, and FROM will be the order of the day.” I was too busy with my studies to be bothered by the omnipresent odor of barbecued porcuswineburgers. Besides that, I could still eat them. So as my comprehension grew of all the varied possibilities of illegality in our society, so did my companion’s figure fade. I wanted to leave earlier, but The Bishop, having made up his mind, would not be swayed.
“Once a plan is made it must always be followed to the letter. It should only be changed if outside circumstances change. Man is a rationalizing animal and needs training in order to become a rational one. Reasons can always be found for altering an operation.” He shuddered as the machines speeded up with a roar; school was out, then crossed off one more day on his calendar. “An operation well-planned will work. Meddle with it and you destroy it. Ours is a good plan. We will stay with it.” He was far leaner and harder when the day of our exodus finally arrived. He had been tried in the gustatory furnace and had been tempered by it. I had put on weight. Our plans were made, our few belongings packed, the safe cleaned out of all of its bucks-and all trace of our presence eliminated. In the end we could only sit in silence, looking again and again at our watches.
When the alarm sounded we were on our feet, smiling with pleasure.
I turned off the alarm as The Bishop opened the door of the freezer room. As the key turned in the outer lock we closed the door behind us. Stood and shivered in Macswineys’ mausoleum while we listened to the mechanic enter the room we had so recently left.
“Hear that?” I asked. “He’s adjusting the icer on the cherry oozer dispenser, I thought it sounded funny.” “I prefer not to discuss the contents of the ghastly gourmet gallery. Is it time to go yet?” “Time.” I eased open the outer door and biinked at the light of day, unseen for so long. Other than the service van the street was empty. “Here we go.” We shuffled out and I sealed the door behind us. The air was sweet and fresh and filled with lovely pollution. Even I had had my fill of cooking odors. As The Bishop hurried to the van I slipped the two wedges into the outer door to our chamber of culinary horrors. If the mechanic tried to get out before his appointed time, these would slow him down. We only needed about fifteen minutes.