Mitchison grunted something but made no intelligible answer. They pulled up at the road-block and Harker got out at the right; the guards nodded curtly to him this time but made no attempt to interfere as he headed toward the administration building. Mitchison took his car to the parking-area.
Knocking at Raymond's door, Harker said, "You there, Mart?"
The door opened. A diminutive hatchet-faced man peered up at him. "Hello, Harker."
Taken off balance, Harker blinked a moment, then said, "Hello. I don't think we've met, have we?"
"You've seen my name. At the bottom of your check. I'm Barchet. Administrator of the Beller Fund."
Harker smiled at the little man and looked past him to Raymond. He shook his head. "It's no go, Mart. The Father says the Church will oppose us."
Raymond shrugged. "We could have figured on that, I guess. What's the next step?"
Harker nodded. "I see Winstead on Friday. I hope for better luck there."
"Doubtful," Barchet snorted. His voice was an annoying saw-edged whine. Harker wondered whether the little man was going to be around the Litchfield labs very often; he had a deep dislike for moneymen.
Ignoring Barchet's comment, Harker said to Raymond, "Mart, how solid is the tenure of the people in this organization?"