In Bigmark they run you down for infringements of laws that are not written down.
Unauthorised cheats and con artists receive no mercy.
Bigmark is where you come if you need to barter; you can get just about anything in Bigmark.
The policing of unwritten laws falls within the jurisdiction of those who enforce the policy of ‘Bigmark belongs to us’ - a club to which admission relies solely on historic entente between those factions who were there and who survived the financial collapse with their power intact.
Enforcement is enacted by Bigmark Security and is both invisible and highly publicised by word of mouth – if you see them coming the best policy is to flee – most often you won’t see it coming.
Best policy, if you’re not Bigmarkian to the bone, is to do your business as swiftly as possible and get outta town.
Ellie sits across the steel counter of the barter desk looking through bullet-proof glass at Giles’ pasty face which is framed by the dark silhouetted muscle-bulk of his meathead minder; she does her best not to let her distaste show.
“Notwithstanding the state of your face,” Giles obviously feels no compunction to offer her the same courtesy, “I’d like to say that I would be happy to offer you the best deal possible… simply because I like your face… I’d like to but I’d be lying, I don’t give a shit: your face is a mess and your currency will look far more comfortable in my company.”
“Currency is not what I’m offering, what I’ve got is more valuable than money”
“Currency is currency, no matter the form. I think we need to get past this coy negotiating and talk specifics” Giles expression gives nothing away; for aristos; descendants of Bankers, like poker players, stiff-upper-lip extends beyond the literal; and everything is value based.
The steel door dividing them swings open and Meathead beckons her through to the next level: face-to-face.