FYI, i've changed Ingmar to Ingred, which is the name i meant to use all along. anyway, here's todays Teasers!

Hitek Nom paused on the high marble step to the door of A119 Bastion East and fumbled for the silver chain leading to his key ring, safely tucked away in the front pocket of his kidskin waistcoat. The sea spray was up this morning, and he wanted to get into the comfortable dryness of his office quickly. He let himself into the building and nodded a passing greeting to Puola Nom as she entered the foyer from the other end, carrying the morning’s tea on a tray.

“Good morning to you, Puola Nom,” he called cheerfully.

“Aye sir, good morning to you, Hitek Nom,” she called back with her usual warm yet respectful tone.

He climbed the stairs leading to the private offices, his hand stroking the ivory banister as he mounted each step. At the top of the stairs, he could see a faint green light crawling out from under the door to Office 3, giving a slightly repellent cast to the rich carpet ran the length of the upper hall floor. Corten Nom was in already, as always. Hitek Nom took a breath and eased the door back on it’s well-oiled hinges.

“Morning, Corten Nom,” he said as he stepped in and dusted drying salt from the brim of his top hat on the side of his blue velvet trousers.

“Is it?” his partner replied without looking up from a ledger book, the injured survivors of his breakfast scattered on a plate on the edge of the low desk.

“Well, yes, I rather think it is. I never said it was a particularly good morning, however.” The morning ritual was now complete.

Corten Nom grunted in reply through a last mouthful of toast and ran a finger down a column in his book. Hitek Nom winced, as always, at the thought of crumbs slowly filling the cracks in the spine of their precious ledgers. Clearing the thought from his mind, he hung his hat and jacket on the rack, and went to his own low desk where the previous day’s ledger awaited him. He took a repeating lucifer from his top drawer and lit the loqua lamp on his desk. Replacing the yellow glass bowl on the brass lamp stand, the blue flame now cast a soothing green light onto his work surface.

While he looked over his notes from the evening before, Puola Nom entered the room with her tray and set a cup of strong tea on both desks. She left without a word, taking the plate of crumbs and streaks of egg yolk that had been Corten Nom’s breakfast. Hitek Nom occasionally scratched his weak chin, or thumbed his bulbous nose while he audited the reports of income for their East Harbour Dock. Booking fees were down, but this was only to be expected at this time of year. Tariff fees were up. That was highly unusual, but a welcome blessing if it proved not to be a simple error. Hitek Nom happily busied himself for the morning double-checking the tariff figures, more watchful than an eagle on the hunt and never trusting the human dock foreman to be able to count higher than ten. Truth be told, Hitek Nom was always surprised that the man seemed to be able to count even that high.

Shortly past noon Corten Nom stood up from his desk and stretched, then donned his blue velvet coat and left the office without a word. He never took lunch, but enjoyed a stroll about the district each day. Invariably, his stroll would take him near one of their holdings or businesses that he had been auditing recently. Like any Nom of means, Corten Nom did not quite believe anything in his ledgers until he had verified them in person.

A quarter of an hour later, by the ornate clock on the mantle, there was a timid knock on the door and Puola Nom let herself into the office. She gave a polite bow of her head to Hitek Nom and said, “There’s a gentleman here to see you, sir.” Something about her tone when she said gentleman made him uncomfortable.

“Please tell him I’ll be down to the foyer in a moment.”

“Ahh…” Puola Nom began hesitantly. Hitek Nom looked up in mild surprise at the hesitation in her voice, and then let out a soft gasp as the large figure lumbered into the room behind her.

“That will not be necessary, Hitek. I think it best if we talk away from prying eyes.”

Hitek Nom swallowed in a suddenly too dry mouth and nodded. “Please return to reception, Puola, I will handle this matter myself. If Corten gets back early, will you please ask him to wait downstairs?” Neither Hitek Nom nor his company’s secretary noticed his lapse of protocol. Puola Nom was visibly shaking as she nodded and left the room, her face struggling between worry and relief.

Hitek Nom stood up to his full three and a half feet height and rapped his knuckles on the desk in a nervous rhythm. “Well, what is this about,” he asked in a voice that surprised him in its calmness.

“Oh, I think you know, little Nom. I think you know very well,” the intruder rumbled.