“I am afraid debt-bondage may be your only option, Mister Brown,” she said, looking up from the ledger. “If these numbers are correct, there is simply no means for you to make your next scheduled payment.”

Her speech was clipped and precise, with a trace of South African in her pronunciation. Hair swept back librarian-style, cats eye glasses, white blouse. The top three buttons were undone, donating a generous view of her cleavage to the meeting. Her numbers added up well, from where I was sitting.

“So what are my options?” I tore my eyes away from the open buttons and hoped she hadn’t noticed.

“You will be turned over to Mistress Diana. She will see to it that you are taught proper financial discipline. You will take great pains to ensure you adhere to her every order in carrying out your fiduciary duties. From now on you will be made into an asset to society, rather than a liability. But do not fear, your equity will not be harmed. Do you understand me?”

“I do,” I said. I had no other choice.