The Gladiator

"We'll have to take turns going first," A

"I wonder how much trouble Comrade Mazzilli can make for us if he really works at it," her father said. There was another interesting question. Because of his Party rank, he might be able to make quite a bit.

If Gianfranco didn't turn up, he'd have every reason to do just that. A

Thirteen

The door to the transposition chamber opened. Gianfranco hurried out. He didn't remember anything about being drugged. He wasn't supposed to. But what they'd told him while he was out would kick in when the Security Police started grilling him. So people from the home timeline claimed, anyhow. He hoped like anything they knew what they were talking about.

The lights in the subbasement under The Gladiator came on. Motion sensors, Eduardo had told him. He looked back over his shoulder. One instant, the chamber was there. The next, it was gone-gone for good.

"Stuck here," Gianfranco muttered. "Stuck here forever." He said something that should have set off a smoke detector, if there was one here. He would have been just as happy to stay in the home timeline-probably happier. Only the thought of what was bound to be happening to his family and to A

He went up the stairs to the trap door at the top. He pushed it up and went through into the basement. If there were Security Police officers in the shop, they would hear him. But Eduardo had promised him there wouldn't be, and he seemed right.

No motion sensors up there, or none that worked. It stayed dark. The Crosstime Traffic people had warned him it would. He held the trap door open for a moment so he could get his bearings with the light shining up irom below. Then he shut it and walked toward the next stairway with his hands out in front of him as if he were blind.

Even so, he almost tripped over the bottom step. He groped till he found the ba

After a good deal of groping, he opened the door to the front of the shop. Then he could see again, thanks to the street lights outside. He waited for somebody from the Security Police to yell, "Don't move!" But he had The Gladiator all to himself.

He covered his fingers with a handkerchief when he opened the outer door. No alarm sounded. He scurried away as fast as he could go anyhow. The Security Police might not be here, but he would have bet they had some way to know when that door opened.

Even after midnight, the Galleria del Popolo wasn't deserted. Bars and restaurants-and maybe some shadier places- stayed open late. Gianfranco smelled fresh cigarette smoke in the air. (Many more people smoked here than in the home timeline.) Behind him, someone called, "Hey, you! What are you doing?" The voice didn't sound as if it belonged to anyone from the Security Police. It sounded more like that of an ordinary person worried about burglars.

No matter whose voice it was, Gianfranco ignored it. He turned a corner, then another, then another. He didn't run- that might have drawn unwelcome notice to him. But he did some pretty fancy walking.

Once he was sure nobody was on his heels, he slowed down, breathing hard. The man back near The Gladiator had worried that he was a criminal. Now he worried about ru

Not many people were on the street. The ones who were seemed as nervous of him as he was of them. That reassured him. He knew he was no sneak thief or robber. All they knew was that he was tall and might be dangerous.

He turned around a couple of times to figure out where he was-he'd gone around those corners at random when he was getting away from The Gladiator. Then he nodded to himself. Milan 's skyline looked familiar again. Those skyscrapers that changed it from the home timeline were gone. His apartment building would be… over that way.

Off he went. He shrank into a dark doorway when a police car went by. The carabinieri inside didn't notice him, or else didn't care. The car rolled down the street.

When he got to the apartment building, he took the stairs. He somehow felt the elevator would draw too much notice. That was probably foolish, but he didn't care. He hadn't got used to the elevator yet anyway.

He looked at his watch. It wasn't even one o'clock yet. Ed-uardo had known what he was talking about. Time-or rather, duration-really did stand still inside a transposition chamber. Gianfranco wondered why. From what Eduardo said, chrono-physicists in the home timeline did, too.

Here was the familiar hallway. Here was the familiar-and familial-door. He reached into his pocket. Where the devil were the familiar keys? He'd had them-and now he didn't. They had to be somewhere in the home timeline, or maybe in the transposition chamber. He felt like pounding his head against the wall. Instead, he started pounding on the door.

People joked about the midnight knock on the door. They joked so they wouldn't have to cringe, because those knocks were much too real and much too common. Even so, A

The terror that filled her also amazed her. That a simple sound could cause so much fear seemed impossible. No matter how it seemed, she lay shivering in her bed. She might suddenly have been dropped into crushed ice.

The pounding went on and on. Was it her door? Were they coming for her parents-and for her-because of what had happened to Gianfranco?

She almost screamed when the light in her bedroom came on. There stood her father in his pajamas. "It's not for us," he said. "It's next door."

Half a dozen words that sounded like a reprieve from a death sentence. And, no two ways about it, they might have been just that. There was a joke that ended, "No, Comrade. He lives one floor down." A

Then the knocking stopped-the door must have opened.

A split second later, A

A

"A good thing, too," her father said. "I just didn't know what to tell the Mazzillis any more."

"Shall we go over there?" A

"They can find plenty of other reasons to get mad if they want to," Dr. Crosetti said. "But yes, let's go over. At least they can't blame us for getting Gianfranco murdered now. That's a good start."

The Crosetti s needed to knock several times before the Mazzillis paid any attention to them. A lot of noise was still coming from inside the apartment. But Gianfranco's father finally opened the door. "Ah," he said. "You must have heard us."