“What’s hurry?” Jak said, taking out a single golden wafer, just as Dean had suggested. “Here’s jack. Buy us membership and games, right?”
“Let me see that,” the owner said, reaching out a chubby hand. Jak dropped the light piece of metal into the fat man’s palm and waited. Taking the golden wafer, Templeton weighed it, deciding by feel and texture how much gold was there. He then held it between thumb and forefinger up to his face and surprised the two friends by sticking out his tongue and licking the surface.
For a brief second, both Jak and Dean feared the man might decide to swallow the gold, but as a finale, he followed up the oral caress by biting down gently on the wafer and removing it before nodding his approval.
“Slice it thin, don’t you?” he asked pleasantly.
“Last longer that way,” Jak told him. “Still enough to buy you new suit.”
“What’s wrong with my suit?” Templeton asked as he put the wafer on the desk, where it glinted in the lamplight. “Your metal, boysit feels real enough.”
“Is real.”
“So you say,” the arcade owner said.
“How’d it taste?” Dean asked.
“Tasted good.”
“So, is there a problem?”
“I don’t know,” the vid arcade owner replied. “Is there?”
“Think we try cheat you?” Jak asked with a hint of annoyance, beginning to reach out for the thin piece of gold on the desk. “Mebbe go elsewhere.”
Templeton moved incredibly fast for a fat man and snatched up the gold. Dean knew Jak had purposely let him do sono one on Earth was faster than the long-haired albino when the teen put his mind to speed.
“Hell, boy. Nothing personal,” he protested. “I think everybody under thirty tries to cheat my ass. You wouldn’t believe some of the kinds of counterfeit jack punks your age have tried to pass off on me. Thick or thin, coins or nuggets, paper currency or fake charge chits. I’ve seen more bootleg precious metals than you’ll ever know. More fake jack floating around Freedom than the real thing.”
“What’s your deal?” Dean asked.
“A good one. Your gold tastes right to my teeth and tongue, so I’ll give you what you need.”
He took out two red lapel pinback buttons and held them out to the waiting Jak and Dean. They took the offered pins and looked at them with puzzlement.
“Wear these at all times while in the arcade. If you lose your button, you have to ante up for a new one. Buttons are coated with some chemical. I’ve got a sec screen that can read it. You won’t be able to get in my arcade without wearing the pins, or an alarm goes off and you’re escorted to the front to leave or to the back to pay.”
“What about the tokens?” Dean asked.
“I’m getting to them.” The man reached down to a silver device attached to his wide leather belt and pressed a thumb trigger rapidly, releasing a series of small, flat, round metal coins.
“Ten tokens each,” he said with a flourish.
“Bullshit.” Jak said, stressing each of the syllables.
The token salesman shook his head. “There you go again. You albinos make it hell to do business with any sort of wit.”
“Want twenty,” Jak said, gesturing to himself and Dean. “Each.”
“Don’t try and rogue us, mister,” Dean added, wanting to know where Jak was going with his request to double the deal, since he knew they’d already decided that an offer of ten tokens and membership was fair.
The larger man shook his head with a pained expression. “Damn. A haggler. Christ save us all from hagglers. Okay. Fifteen. Each.”
Dean glanced over at his friend, ready to back the play if things went south.
“Eighteen,” Jak countered.
Templeton looked as though he were about to succumb to a heart attack. “Goddamn, boy, this ain’t no roadside carny! Things are more cut-and-dried here! You want deals, go to a ville flea market! Find a street peddler! Dig in the graveyards! But don’t hassle me with trying to skim a better deal than retail price!”
Jak didn’t reply. He just waited.
Dean decided to play along. “When he gets like this, mister, he’d rather cheat himself out of having a good time than spend extra jack on entertainment he thinks is a rip-off.”