"Sure," she said. She’d planned this out, with nearly two hours to do it. All told, in money and credit there was a hundred and forty in Michael’s room. Subtract the forty-five, allow an extra seventy for Serrin to pay the samurai, and that left only twenty-five thousand to spare. She’d spent a moment wondrously contemplating such a huge amount. A week ago, she’d never seen even a fraction of that in her whole life. Now she had to act like she handled such sums every day. But at least she knew the actual figure Michael had agreed to and that the dealer was lying about the price. He was squeezing an extra ten grand out of her, but she was keeping the knowledge as an ace up her sleeve.