Arcade Catastrophe
Page 24
“Indeed,” she said. “Enough prattle. I know who you are, Nate. I know you were involved with Belinda White, and you’re now involved with Sebastian Stott. Did he send you to spy on us?”
“Belinda who? Sebastian what?”
“Don’t play dumb. You’ve insulted us enough by taking our tickets.”
“Mr. Stott would rather I wasn’t here. He thinks you guys might be dangerous.”
Katie leaned forward. “And what do you think?”
Nate knew he could be in trouble if he didn’t play this right. He grinned. “I think I like magic candy. And I think you might have some.”
“Magic what?”
“Exactly.”
Showing a hint of a smile, Katie regarded Nate silently for a moment. “I don’t know what sort of operation Sebastian is running, but this isn’t a game.”
Nate snorted. “You have games all over the place.”
“We have games, yes. We know games. This isn’t one.”
“You’re recruiting.”
She gave no answer.
“I’ve been through this before,” Nate said. “Different magician, same drill. Don’t you want good people? The best? What’s wrong with me and my friends doing our best to win?”
“We’re not eager for candidates with divided allegiances,” Katie said.
“Is that another way of saying you don’t want anyone with experience? With proven skills?”
“We don’t want to draw too much attention,” she said. “Your antics out there have to stop. It’s one thing for us to know how you’re scoring so well. It’s quite another for the general public to start catching on.”
“If you don’t want us putting on a show, you could just give us each a stamp. Or just give us the tickets.”
Her eyes flashed. “You want easy tickets?”
“We want tickets. You want us to stop winning so many. I’m thinking up possible solutions.”
Her demeanor predatory, the director stood and leaned forward, her palms on her desk. “Nathan, you tell me the truth or this will not end well for you. Did you break in here and steal tickets last night?”
The accusation startled him. “No.” He didn’t have to lie.
Her eyes narrowed. “Where were you last night?”
“At home, mostly. After I left here I didn’t come back until this morning.”
“You realize that we have cameras. We know exactly how many tickets you four have earned.”
“Are you missing some tickets?”
She kept staring at him like she suspected he was hiding something. “No.”
“That Cleon guy doesn’t seem very—”
“I’m not worried about our employees,” Katie snapped. She sat down. “Let’s get back to you and your friends. The stamps must be earned. Giving away tickets would defeat part of our purpose. We’re looking for a certain kind of person. We don’t want to disrupt our little contest.”
“But you don’t want us winning so many tickets in front of your customers.”
“You’re catching on.”
“But we need tons of tickets quickly in order to get the stamps.”
Katie fingered her slim gold necklace. “Quite the dilemma.”
“Even if there were such a thing as magical candy that would make winning easy, I don’t see any rules against it.”
“It’s hard to post rules against the impossible. Some rules are quietly understood and are therefore quietly enforced.”
Nate stretched his legs and stared at the floor. The carpet was not particularly nice. “Are you threatening us?”
“Are you taking advantage of us?”
“I want a stamp. If you try to ban us, we could get pretty loud about it. We could make a much bigger scene than by winning lots of tickets.”
Katie gave Nate a challenging look. “Now are you threatening me?”
“Only if you discriminate against us. I just want a chance to win like everybody else.”
“But you’re not like everybody else. We can’t afford the attention.”
Nate nodded. “How about a compromise? If you can’t give the tickets away, but you don’t want us earning them in front of everybody, why not open up early for us? Give us a few hours before the crowds arrive. Just a few hours each day, until we earn enough.”
Katie considered him. “Five to eight?”
“All the machines open. No point in limiting us if we’re working in secret.”
“I have no desire to prolong the process.”
“We’ll already be pretty limited. Other people will be able to play twelve hours per day. We’d only have a quarter of that time.”
“Once I start agreeing to your terms, you can stop selling.”
“Right,” Nate said, a little embarrassed. “Five to eight would work. We’ll stay away otherwise. You can reset our records after we go.”
“We have a side door.”
“We’ll be sneaky,” Nate assured her. “Nobody will know.”
“They better not,” Katie said. “Word of this gets around, the deal is off.”
“We’re good with secrets.”
“Okay. Tomorrow at five in the morning.”
“Thanks,” Nate said.
Her eyebrows lifted. “Don’t thank me yet. Once you earn a stamp, you become part of us. We make sure of that. We can’t have outsiders interfering. You might be getting more than you bargained for.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Nate said, trying to act confident even though the warning concerned him.
“Don’t make trouble for us,” Katie warned sternly. “Don’t try to mess with us. Do this right, and you might end up more satisfied than you can guess.”
Katie started shuffling some papers. While her eyes were averted, Nate removed the small digital camera from his pocket. He held it on his lap. He had not yet seen Katie in the arcade. She might not be the owner, but she must be part of the inner circle. A description would be worth little. Same with her name, since it could easily be fake. But a photo might prove useful to Ziggy and Victor.
“I have high hopes,” Nate said.
She stood. “Anything else?”
Nate rose, holding the camera near the side of his waist, attempting to be subtle. He tried to keep it pointed at her. Should he risk taking a shot? Her eyes were on him again. “I think I’m good.”
“Belinda who? Sebastian what?”
“Don’t play dumb. You’ve insulted us enough by taking our tickets.”
“Mr. Stott would rather I wasn’t here. He thinks you guys might be dangerous.”
Katie leaned forward. “And what do you think?”
Nate knew he could be in trouble if he didn’t play this right. He grinned. “I think I like magic candy. And I think you might have some.”
“Magic what?”
“Exactly.”
Showing a hint of a smile, Katie regarded Nate silently for a moment. “I don’t know what sort of operation Sebastian is running, but this isn’t a game.”
Nate snorted. “You have games all over the place.”
“We have games, yes. We know games. This isn’t one.”
“You’re recruiting.”
She gave no answer.
“I’ve been through this before,” Nate said. “Different magician, same drill. Don’t you want good people? The best? What’s wrong with me and my friends doing our best to win?”
“We’re not eager for candidates with divided allegiances,” Katie said.
“Is that another way of saying you don’t want anyone with experience? With proven skills?”
“We don’t want to draw too much attention,” she said. “Your antics out there have to stop. It’s one thing for us to know how you’re scoring so well. It’s quite another for the general public to start catching on.”
“If you don’t want us putting on a show, you could just give us each a stamp. Or just give us the tickets.”
Her eyes flashed. “You want easy tickets?”
“We want tickets. You want us to stop winning so many. I’m thinking up possible solutions.”
Her demeanor predatory, the director stood and leaned forward, her palms on her desk. “Nathan, you tell me the truth or this will not end well for you. Did you break in here and steal tickets last night?”
The accusation startled him. “No.” He didn’t have to lie.
Her eyes narrowed. “Where were you last night?”
“At home, mostly. After I left here I didn’t come back until this morning.”
“You realize that we have cameras. We know exactly how many tickets you four have earned.”
“Are you missing some tickets?”
She kept staring at him like she suspected he was hiding something. “No.”
“That Cleon guy doesn’t seem very—”
“I’m not worried about our employees,” Katie snapped. She sat down. “Let’s get back to you and your friends. The stamps must be earned. Giving away tickets would defeat part of our purpose. We’re looking for a certain kind of person. We don’t want to disrupt our little contest.”
“But you don’t want us winning so many tickets in front of your customers.”
“You’re catching on.”
“But we need tons of tickets quickly in order to get the stamps.”
Katie fingered her slim gold necklace. “Quite the dilemma.”
“Even if there were such a thing as magical candy that would make winning easy, I don’t see any rules against it.”
“It’s hard to post rules against the impossible. Some rules are quietly understood and are therefore quietly enforced.”
Nate stretched his legs and stared at the floor. The carpet was not particularly nice. “Are you threatening us?”
“Are you taking advantage of us?”
“I want a stamp. If you try to ban us, we could get pretty loud about it. We could make a much bigger scene than by winning lots of tickets.”
Katie gave Nate a challenging look. “Now are you threatening me?”
“Only if you discriminate against us. I just want a chance to win like everybody else.”
“But you’re not like everybody else. We can’t afford the attention.”
Nate nodded. “How about a compromise? If you can’t give the tickets away, but you don’t want us earning them in front of everybody, why not open up early for us? Give us a few hours before the crowds arrive. Just a few hours each day, until we earn enough.”
Katie considered him. “Five to eight?”
“All the machines open. No point in limiting us if we’re working in secret.”
“I have no desire to prolong the process.”
“We’ll already be pretty limited. Other people will be able to play twelve hours per day. We’d only have a quarter of that time.”
“Once I start agreeing to your terms, you can stop selling.”
“Right,” Nate said, a little embarrassed. “Five to eight would work. We’ll stay away otherwise. You can reset our records after we go.”
“We have a side door.”
“We’ll be sneaky,” Nate assured her. “Nobody will know.”
“They better not,” Katie said. “Word of this gets around, the deal is off.”
“We’re good with secrets.”
“Okay. Tomorrow at five in the morning.”
“Thanks,” Nate said.
Her eyebrows lifted. “Don’t thank me yet. Once you earn a stamp, you become part of us. We make sure of that. We can’t have outsiders interfering. You might be getting more than you bargained for.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Nate said, trying to act confident even though the warning concerned him.
“Don’t make trouble for us,” Katie warned sternly. “Don’t try to mess with us. Do this right, and you might end up more satisfied than you can guess.”
Katie started shuffling some papers. While her eyes were averted, Nate removed the small digital camera from his pocket. He held it on his lap. He had not yet seen Katie in the arcade. She might not be the owner, but she must be part of the inner circle. A description would be worth little. Same with her name, since it could easily be fake. But a photo might prove useful to Ziggy and Victor.
“I have high hopes,” Nate said.
She stood. “Anything else?”
Nate rose, holding the camera near the side of his waist, attempting to be subtle. He tried to keep it pointed at her. Should he risk taking a shot? Her eyes were on him again. “I think I’m good.”
