The years had not been kind to Jake. Although still skinny and dark as a stick, Fat Jake was wearing a sleeveless tee that showed a network of thin scars trailing up both arms. His left ear, half hidden behind graying hair, shone with flawless health. Plastic ear, and wires. Chipped or skillwires, Two Bears had no idea. But in his youth, the other man had scorned both as crutches for the weak and stupid. Guess Jake was showing his age at last. Then again, he’d been a full adult when Two Bears was a snotty juve who didn’t know the difference between bullets and bullshit. How old was the norm now, fifty? More? No matter. It would be best not to mention the physical changes. Never insult the hand before it feeds you.