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June 30th, 2000 Midtown Manhattan
ANYA stood on the sidewalk staring at the discreet exterior of the American International State Bank as her helpers clustered close around her. She didn’t think it would be a good idea for all four of them to go tramping in there together. Since she expected it to be more difficult than it should be. So far everything else had been a trial.
She turned to Tate. “I want to take someone in with me, for support, but I want to take Turner. His presence might make things go more smoothly.”
Tate nodded in understanding. “Indeed. Nye and I can wait out here.” He rubbed his bald pate and looked around as if wondering where.
Anya’s gaze swept along the nearby buildings, stopping on the pizza parlor sitting across the street. Pizza couldn’t be much different in the past. “You two can wait there. Once Turner and I have finished our business, we’ll all have lunch.” She was already feeling a bit weak from lack of food and hoped they wouldn’t be kept long at the bank.
Nye piped up, her face red with indignation and her eyes blazing behind her glasses. “Wait in a pizza parlor, but without any money? And no telling how long you’ll be in the bank while we just sit around?”
Anya sighed. “Until we get some money, none of us can eat. What else could you do but wait?”
“I can start doing my research. We’re right here in my field of study. I could make some preliminary notes.” Nye smiled, delivering her coup de grace. “And just sitting and doing nothing is a waste.”
Tate looked at Anya. “That’s true. I’d rather not be idle when we could do something.”
Anya shook her head. “We have too many problems for you to start researching now. You’d just get interrupted.”
Turner spoke up in his clear, quiet voice. “That doesn’t mean there’s nothing productive they could be doing while we’re in the bank—which might be a long time.”
Anya hoped to take care of her business in short order, but Turner did have a point. “Well, once we have finished with the bank—and eaten—we’ll want to start looking for a home base in the country. And find a way to leave messages for the other Travelers to help them find us. You could help by finding out some of the things we’ll need to know to do that.”
She worried about Nye and her tendency to get sidetracked, but as long as Tate was with her, hopefully the girl wouldn’t get into too much trouble. “I think you two could start looking at least. And since information’s free, you can do that now.”
Nye’s mouth looked a little sullen, but her eyes were shining with victory. “I guess it’s better than sitting around doing nothing.”
Anya turned to Tate, and the two exchanged a look full of meaning. “Help Nye. And be sure to be back before the pizza’s all gone.”
That should be enough motivation for Tate and possibly even for Nye. The girl would likely focus on her own research, but perhaps she’d end up accomplishing something related to the task at hand. Just as long as she comes back safe.
Anya was used to taking responsibility for these people, but without the professor now to lean on for support, she worried more than ever.
“Okay, let’s do this.” With a last warning look at Tate and Nye, Anya grabbed the handle and opened the door. Turner followed her through another door and into the bank’s lobby.
First she noticed the incredibly clean, cool air. Then she saw the restrained but lush appointments, the quietly luxurious furniture. Anya had difficulty believing banks had been this elegant. She couldn’t wait to see what other misconceptions she would be disabused of. By the reality.
She stepped onto the gorgeous carpet of deep reds and browns and blues and looked around for help. Turner standing tall at her shoulder should be drawing someone to them. Hopefully help.
She spotted a security guard standing discreetly next to a potted palm, ignoring them. Then she saw a young woman in a conservative skirt suit who was sashaying her way in their direction. Since she did not seem the type to walk like that normally, Anya presumed it was Turner’s effect on the poor woman.
“May I be of any assistance?”
Anya certainly hoped so. “We’re here about the Travelers’ Trust.”
The woman narrowed her eyes and nodded her head and straightened her spine. She wore a small gold pin on her jacket that named her Verity, which was a nice name, but a difficult one to live up to. “If you could please follow me, I’ll show you where you can be comfortable while you wait.”
She turned and led them across the lobby to an unmarked door of heavy oak. She opened it, waving them inside. Anya watched her give Turner a long, considering look. Of course, that was nothing unusual. You’re wasting your time, Verity.
Inside, plush chairs sat arranged around a long oval table. Very nicely polished. Anya took a seat for herself and plopped into it, and Turner followed her lead. Only more gracefully.
“This is our conference room.” The woman was standing in the doorway with her hand on the knob. “May I get you any refreshments?”
Anya tried not to show her surprise. Then she thought of Tate and Nye, who certainly wouldn’t be so well treated, wherever they were now. She started to shake her head, but Turner spoke up first.
“That would be lovely. We could both use some water. And maybe a little something to nibble on, if you have it.”
The woman nodded with a slight smile on her face and closed the door behind her.
Turner squinted at Anya. “If this takes a while, we’ll need to keep up our strength. What now?”
Anya shook her head at him, but she wasn’t going to argue. She’d noticed a pen and a pad of paper on the table, but continued to look around the room for a long moment. She’d just have to hope no one was secretly observing them. She could at least save giving Turner any explanations until they had more privacy. In case someone were listening in, as improbable as that seemed.
She grabbed the pad and pen and held them in her lap, then pushed a button on her watch to scroll through until she reached the resources screen. She selected the current date and hit the account key.
The screen then displayed a twelve-digit alphanumeric code, which Anya carefully copied onto the top sheet of paper. She tore that off and folded it. Then she removed the next few sheets and stuffed them into her skirt pocket.
She found herself grinning at Turner. “Can’t be too careful.”
Several minutes passed before someone came, and then it wasn’t Verity with the refreshments she had promised, but a slim middle-aged man wearing a three-piece suit and tie and a deferential manner. The buildings and the clothes might’ve changed, but Anya recognized a banker when she saw one.
The man cleared his throat. “My name is Hemmings—the branch manager. I hope you’ll excuse the precaution, but though you mentioned the Travelers’ Trust, I’d appreciate it if you could state your business more specifically.”
Anya nodded. “I’m here for the Travelers’ Trust stipend, as an authorized recipient. I wish to set up a subsidiary account and withdraw certain funds, in accordance with the terms of the trust.”
Hemmings nodded twice. “Yes. Well.” And he coughed. “You realize you’ll have to prove...”
“Certainly.” Anya handed him the folded over sheet of paper. “Today’s access code.”
The banker took the paper gingerly and nodded again. “I’ll have to confirm with our records. That could take a little while. Are you comfortable?”
“Perfectly. Thank you.”
The banker essayed a little bow and backed out of the conference room, closing the door as he went. Clearly he already believed they were who they purported to be. That should speed things up. Which was good since Anya was getting hungry.
The image of a pizza pie revolved around inside her mind until the Verity woman returned. She had a tray with two bottles of water, a couple of glasses and a small bucket of ice—as well as a plate spread with crackers and an assortment of cheeses, and a small dish filled with black olives.
She essayed a little smile at Turner. “Please enjoy this small repast. With compliments from Mr. Hemmings.”
They waited for her to leave before saying grace and falling upon the vittles with enthusiasm. Anya spared some sympathy for Tate and Nye as the food disappeared. They both started guzzling the water, not bothering with the glasses or the ice. They keep this place as cold as a refrigerator anyway.
Having finished what little had been provided, Anya leaned back in her chair and sighed. “Do you think they waited until they were sure who we were before bringing that?”
Turner smiled. “We could have been anybody, so I don’t blame them if they did.”
Anya leaned forward and folded her hands together on top of the table. “I just worry about Nye. I hope they don’t get lost out there. It’s a big city.”
Turner rolled his eyes. “They can use their locator apps to home in on you, so they can’t get lost. Or you can track them down the same way.”
“I know, but I had to track you all down once today. I don’t want to have to do it again. I can’t stop worrying what Nye might get it in her head to do. I fret about the others—what trouble might they be in and we wouldn’t even know?”
“Just relax. We’ll find a way to leave them messages—it’s the only thing we can do. It’ll all work out.”
Anya shook her head. If only it were that easy to just stop worrying. She also had to concern herself with how much cash she’d need to withdraw to take care of immediate expenses. And how they’d manage to find and acquire a base of operations in the country without legal identification, or find a way to leave those messages. But she couldn’t start solving those problems yet.
Not without the benefit of the research Tate and Nye were supposed to be starting.
Anya kept checking her watch and saw sixteen minutes pass before Mr. Hemmings returned with the Verity woman on his heels holding a memo pad with pen poised.
The banker didn’t bother to sit down. “Everything checked out, Ms.—”
“Anya.”
Mr. Hemmings gave a small start at hearing her name but recovered quickly. “You’re the first recipient to come forward this year. The only one so far, I mean.” The banker coughed. “I only meant to inform you that, as no one else has yet come forward, currently the entire yearly stipend is available. How much of those funds will you be requiring?”
“All of it.” Anya looked to make sure her words were being taken down. “Twenty thousand in cash, and the remainder transferred to a subsidiary account.”
The banker blinked. He clearly wished to make a remark, but his training held. He composed himself before he spoke. “Excuse me. I don’t know your circumstances, but that’s a sizable amount of cash to carry around. If there’s some other way...”
Anya sighed. Mr. Hemmings was fond of trailing off his sentences. “We’ll need cash on hand for expenses—food, transportation, and lodging.”
The banker nodded while she spoke. “Yes, yes. But you won’t need to carry cash. We can get you a credit card—and once your account is established, we’ll provide you with an ATM card. Since this is a Friday, it’ll be Monday, or possibly Tuesday before we’ll have those ready. We’ll need to see some identification. And have you fill out a few forms.”
Anya sighed. The man was going to be difficult. “No, Mr. Hemmings. Perhaps you aren’t intimately acquainted with the terms of the trust, but I most certainly am. None of that will be necessary, and we don’t want to wait for those cards.” They certainly wouldn’t be taking any line of credit, whatever the man said. “We won’t be showing you any identification or filling out any forms.”
The man squinted. “I’m familiar with the terms of the trust, but understand that there are laws and banking regulations we have to adhere to.”
“That prevent you from honoring your legal obligations to the trust? Your bank acts as executor.” Anya stared calm and steady. She’d keep repeating herself if she had to.
“We have to comply with—”
“The terms of the trust for which you’re trustees—terms that stipulate recipients only need to provide the proper access code. And a fingerprint. For future access to the subsidiary account.”
“Thumbprint, yes. But—”
“The trust is a non-profit organization, and the funds are for financing research. It’s not a personal or business account.” Anya took a deep breath and said in a firm voice. “I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out how to reconcile honoring the terms of the trust with whatever other obligations you might have.”
Mr. Hemmings sighed. “Excuse me, I’ll have to get authorization from the Head Office. And talk to our lawyer.” At least the man wasn’t going to argue any more. “And since you can’t wait for a card, may we provide the bulk of your withdrawal in travelers cheques? They can be replaced if lost or stolen.”
Anya nodded her assent. “That would be convenient, as well as appropriate.”
The banker turned to Verity. “Ms. Dervan, prepare eight thousand in travelers cheques when you process the withdrawal, and give them the remainder in cash. And don’t forget the thumbprint.”
Mr. Hemmings nodded again at Anya and left. Probably to go put the responsibility for what he’d been forced to do onto someone else’s shoulders.
Verity closed her memo pad and looked at both Anya and Turner. “As neither of you appear to have anything suitable for carrying around the amount of cash and cheques I’ll be giving you, I have a suggestion. While we have some rather utilitarian sacks, I could find you something less noticeable. Nicer.”
Anya smiled at the woman, presumably a secretary. “I’d appreciate that, I’m sure. How about if I trust your judgment about what would be proper?”
The woman nodded. “A nice bag. Large enough for your withdrawal, and that will go with your outfit. The cost will be deducted from your account.”
“By the way, should we address you as Verity or Ms. Dervan?”
The corners of the woman’s mouth twitched. “I do have more than one name, it’s true. Now, I need to go get the kit for taking your thumbprint before I proceed with the rest.”
At Anya’s nod, Ms. Dervan backed out, closing the door behind her and leaving them alone again.
Turner waited patiently. Anya less so—as she found herself checking her watch repeatedly. She saw that Tate and Nye had moved beyond the range of the locator screen, somewhere to the east. Why did no one think to program it to indicate distance as well as direction?
While they waited, Anya made a special request to Turner. “Did you notice the way Mr. Hemmings reacted when he heard my name?”
Her helper nodded. “It seems he’d heard it before—but in what context?”
“Surely it must’ve been related to the Travelers’ Trust in some way. I wonder if you could find out? Not from the banker, but from Ms. Dervan.”
Turner smiled weakly. “I can try.”
Though it seemed like a long time, only several minutes had passed before the secretary returned. She carried a small kit which she set down on top of the conference table with care. She took the seat on the other side of Anya from Turner and opened the kit to remove an inkpad and white card. “This will only take a minute.”
Anya followed Ms. Dervan’s instructions, pressing her thumb onto the inkpad and rolling it slowly across the space indicated on the card. She’d have to wash her thumb before she ate again. Before she could think about when and where to do that, Ms. Dervan was handing her a small towelette, premoistened to wash with. The woman was efficient and considerate.
She glanced back and forth between Turner and Anya. “Now, I’ll see about your withdrawal and that bag. Would you also like me to make any reservations for you? A hotel?”
Anya nodded. She hadn’t really thought about that yet, her mind too full of pizza, but they would need somewhere to stay while making plans. With no idea how long that would take. “Is there somewhere close that would be suitable for us? Nothing too extravagant.”
“One room or two?”
“There are four of us. Two men and two women. We’ll want two separate rooms, one for the men and one for the women, with two beds in each. If that’s possible.”
The secretary smiled. “Certainly it’s possible.” She turned and sashayed her way out, without closing the door behind her this time.
They waited another twenty minutes before Mr. Hemmings returned. He announced that he’d resolved all difficulties and the funds they’d requested would be withdrawn as specified, with the remainder transferred into a subsidiary account in Anya’s name. He also told them Ms. Dervan would handle all of that. The banker was needed elsewhere.
Less than ten minutes later the secretary came in carrying a large canvas tote bag in her arms. She brought it to Turner, but spoke to Anya. “The cash and cheques are on the bottom with your receipts. I took the liberty of putting a couple of newspapers on top to discourage curiosity. Sign the cheques right away, and put those receipts in a safe place as soon as you can.”
Anya smiled. “That’s quite considerate of you, Ms. Dervan. We appreciate it, don’t we Turner?”
“Indeed.” Her helper smiled at Verity and took the bag from her arms.
The secretary took a deep breath and turned to Anya. “I printed out the reservation confirmation.” She reached into the inside pocket of her suit jacket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “Just show this to the desk clerk, and he’ll take care of you. It’s only a couple blocks away.”
Anya reached to take the paper. “Thank you.”
“I’ll have your account set up this afternoon. I can call when the papers are ready, or I could come and drop them off at your hotel?” The woman darted her eyes at Turner. They can’t help it.
“What about this ATM card thing?”
“I’ll order it this afternoon, once I’ve set up the account. But as Mr. Hemmings said, it might take until Tuesday. Monday at the earliest.”
“Well then, why don’t we wait until everything’s ready, and we can collect it all at one time.”
Ms. Dervan gave Anya a long, considering look. “The ATM card ‘thing’ can be used almost anywhere to make cash withdrawals from the funds in your account. It’s also a debit card that can be used many places for direct purchases. I imagine you’ll find it quite useful.”
It would indeed be useful. They might be stuck in the city doing research for she didn’t know how long, whatever Anya wished, with no idea what their needs would be. She’d have to keep them focused on that instead of starting in on their own research. But that would only really be a problem with Nye.
This Ms. Dervan seemed to have a good understanding of what they needed, which surprised Anya—until she realized the woman must’ve dealt with other Travelers. The bank might already have been visited by Harold or Page in the past.
Anya doubted she’d get an answer if she asked, but at least she had primed Turner to ask the other question. She flicked her eyes to prompt him.
Turner coughed slightly, and the secretary immediately looked at him. “Excuse me, Verity. This is probably improper, but—”
Oh, dear. The poor woman probably thought Turner was getting ready to proposition her.
Ms. Dervan smiled. “Yes, Mr. Turner?”
“It seemed as if Mr. Hemmings was already familiar with Anya somehow, at least with her name. But I’m not sure I understand how that could be.”
She cocked her head to one side. “I suppose it’s alright to mention it. Mr. Hemmings might have, if it wasn’t a moot point.”
“Moot?”
“A long, long time ago, one of the trust recipients rented a safe deposit box and left instructions that we should make its contents available—to any future recipient named Anya or Page. And a couple years ago we had a Page. She took whatever might have been inside.” Ms. Dervan turned to face Anya. “It’s been quite a matter of speculation among the bank employees, but you can understand why Mr. Hemmings saw no need to mention it.”
Anya nodded. She understood that, but her curiosity had been aroused. This was serious business that no one here at the bank could understand.
What was in that box? She might have greater knowledge about what she was speculating on, but she didn’t have much to work with. At least Page was alright, if she’d been visiting the bank a couple years ago. Now they needed to leave the messages that would bring her back. Somehow.
Anya stood and brushed her skirt before heading for the door with Turner following, the tote bag cradled in his arms. Ms. Dervan followed him out and closed the door behind them. She spared him a fleeting glance as she strode down a hallway deeper into the bank. Hopefully with her mind back on her work, their new account.
Anya stalked straight across the lush carpet to the exit, trusting Turner to follow her out into the polluted but somehow fresher air. Glad to be out of the stifling environs of the bank, she blinked. Her eyes needed to adjust to the bright light and colors of the real world.
Then she glanced down at the hotel reservations in her hand and back up at the street signs. It would take time to orient, but she got the gist of the directions. But pizza came first.
As Turner walked with her toward the food, he asked the question still on her own mind. “What do you suppose was in that safe deposit box?”
Anya’s mind seemed clearer now, and she tried to think it out as she answered. “Just as we want to find a way to leave messages for the others, it’s reasonable they might try to contact us somehow. This must’ve been Harold’s doing. Since it had been left for me or for Page. We both would have to visit the bank to get funds, so it makes some sense in its way. But it’s a very limited method. One message, only into the future and for only one of two people at a specific time and place. We’ll have to do better than that.”
Turner nodded in agreement at her explanation as they both approached the restaurant. The lure of the pizza had quickened their steps. But she didn’t see Tate or Nye waiting outside.
Turner must have felt her concern. “They could be inside. Maybe wanting to get off their feet, since they likely haven’t been sitting down all this time.”
Anya shook her head. She checked her locator and saw they were still east of her somewhere, and still too distant to be blips. “I’m going to go look for them. You can wait here.”
“Oh, no. You’re not going out there alone. I know this has been a rough day for you, so you can stay here with the—with the newspapers, while I go out and look.”
“I’m not waiting around on my own. I’d only be worrying about you, then.”
Turner carried the tote inside to an empty booth and set it down next to the wall. “Then I guess we order some pizza, and trust that Tate and Nye will arrive as soon as they’re hungry enough.”
“If they haven’t returned by the time we’ve finished the pizza, we’ll start searching. Together.”
“If and when. We’ll have to eat the pizza first.” He turned his smile on a waitress approaching their table, and Anya knew they’d get great service. “Jenny,” he said, glancing at her plastic nametag, “we’d like the largest pizza you can make, with everything you have to put on it.”
As Jenny wrote their order on a pad, she asked, “Drinks?”
“Water will be fine, Jenny.”
After the waitress had left them, Anya glanced over at the tote bag beside Turner. “Can I see one of those newspapers Ms. Dervan gave us?”
Turner nodded and reached down into the bag. He looked and searched and came out with the paper for Anya and a few bills which he casually folded and slipped into his shirt pocket. He handed her the paper with a wink. “We’ll have to pay for the pizza, you know.”
Anya was more than happy to let Turner handle paying the bills. “And the water?”
“It may be free. But we don’t want to drink soda or beer, so it doesn’t matter.”
“What about iced tea?” That would be good and refreshing, especially in this heat.
Turner smiled and got up to chase down their waitress. Soon their pitcher of iced tea had arrived and not long after that a freshly baked pizza on a hot plate that took up almost the entire table.
Of course that was when Tate and Nye finally arrived. Nye bounced over and Tate followed with his arms full of newspapers that looked like they’d been having a rough time of it.
Nye beamed. “Look. The perfect way to leave those messages, and—” She stopped when she saw the paper in Anya’s hand. “After we went to all that trouble digging through garbage cans.”
Anya smiled. Leave it to an archaeologist to go digging through the refuse. “Now we have plenty of information to evaluate. And pizza to put away. So set those down, Tate, and help us eat.”