The Gladiator

"If it goes the way it's supposed to, nobody will even know anything's happened-nobody but us, I mean," Gianfranco said.

"If things always went the way they were supposed to, we'd all be happier. Richer, too, chances are," A

"Well, what's our other choice?" Gianfranco asked. "Leaving the people from the home timeline stuck here for good. Do you want to do that?"

His voice held a certain edge. Yes, he was still a little jealous of Eduardo. And maybe he had reason to be if Eduardo did get stuck here. Seventeen and thirty made a scandal, but twenty-two and thirty-five could make a match. A

She sighed and picked her words with care: "No, he should go home if he can. But remember that if he can. Better Cousin Silvio should get an apartment and a job here than the Security Police should catch him and grill him and throw him in a camp. And they would grill him-over a hot fire. Or do you think I'm

wrong.'

If he said yes to that, she would know he wasn't thinking very well at all. But he didn't. She gave him credit. "You're not wrong," he answered. "I didn't mean that. I don't want those goons grabbing him-who would? But he's ready to try it. So are the guys from the repair shop. They don't want to spend the rest of their lives here."

So there, A

Gianfranco didn't answer right away. His head swiveled towards a statuesque blonde who was tan, not pink, and whose gold suit covered as little of her as was legal, or maybe a little less than that. A

When he still didn't answer, she repeated her question- pointedly. "Oh," he said, as if coming back from a long way away. "Well, why wouldn't they?"

"Because they aren't from here. That's the point," A

"Well, those people don't know all the tricks they've got, either," Gianfranco replied. "Things should even out."

She wouldn't be able to change his mind. She could see that coming like a rash-one of her father's favorite lines. "The worst thing that can happen to the Security Police is, they get embarrassed. The worst that can happen to Cousin Silvio and the others is a lot worse than that."

"But the best that can happen is, they get away. And then people from the home timeline come back here and figure out some other way to nudge us along toward freedom." Gian-franco's face lit up-and he wasn't looking at a pretty Swedish girl this time. He was seeing something inside his own head, something he liked even better than pretty girls. "One of these days, we can be just like the home timeline ourselves!"

"1 don't want to be just like them," A

Gianfranco didn't believe a word of it. "Like what?"

"Take care of each other, maybe," A

"Well, sure we are," Gianfranco said. "Next to them, we haven't got much. We'd better be happy with it."

"Yes, we'd better," A

"That's part of what our schoolteachers say capitalists do," Gianfranco retorted. "Have you seen anybody from the home timeline really act that way?"

"Well… no," A

Now she watched Gianfranco look thoughtful and a little unhappy, the way she had a moment before. She liked him better for that-it showed his mind wasn't closed. He also spoke slowly when he replied, "I suppose that's true for some of them. But I don't like to think Ed-uh, Cousin Silvio-would."

"No, I don't, either," A

If it did, he didn't show it. She liked him better for that, too. "If he gets back to the home timeline, he can do anything he wants," he said. "But sooner or later-sooner, I hope-his people will come back here. And when they do, we ought to help them any way we can."

A

With some luck… How good was Gianfranco's plan? She could see that it might work. But she could also see that it might go horribly wrong. And if it did, it would come down on everyone's head. She wasn't even close to sure Gianfranco could see that.

Twelve

Gianfraneo's heart pounded as he and his father and two policemen from San Marino in their silly uniforms trudged up the stairs toward the city's top level. One reason his heart pounded was that he'd already climbed a lot of stairs. If you lived in San Marino, you got your exercise whether you wanted it or not.

Still, nerves made his heart thutter, too. He thought A

"It is very unfortunate that you let this shop go on operating," his father said to the policemen. "Very unfortunate. There was one like it in Rome, and they shut it down. There was one like it in Milan, and we shut it down." By the way he said it, he might have closed down The Gladiator all by himself. He hadn't had anything to do with it, but the Sammarinese policemen didn't need to know that.

"Si, Comrade," they said together. All they knew was that an important-well, a fairly important-Party official from Italy was up in arms about The Three Sixes. Well, no. They also knew they wanted to get him out of their hair.

But that wouldn't be so easy. Gianfranco's father kept thundering while he climbed. "My own son told me about this place," he said. "My own son! If he could find it, if he knew there was a problem with it, why couldn't you? Why didn't you:

He didn't say anything about the way Gianfranco had haunted The Gladiator. He was a practical working politician, after all. He knew you talked about what strengthened your case and ignored what didn't.