The Gladiator by Harry Turtledove Page B

don’t know where to get them.”
    â€œSee?” Eduardo said. “They don’t have the telephone number for the zeks in the basement.”
    That made Gianfranco laugh again, but Alfredo didn’t think it was so funny. “Confound it, Eduardo, how can you have games nobody else can get his hands on? What do you do, bring them down from the moon?”
    â€œSure,” the clerk said. “If you go out to the alley behind the shop, you’ll see the launch tower for our rocket ship.”
    Alfredo gave him a very odd look. “You know, I almost wouldn’t be surprised. Ciao , Eduardo. One of these days,
maybe you’ll tell me the truth. Ciao , Gianfranco. You played a fine game there.” He walked out before either of the other two could answer him.
    Eduardo tried to make light of it, saying, “He doesn’t like mysteries.”
    â€œNeither do I,” Gianfranco said, which seemed to startle the clerk. He went on, “I put up with them, though, because I like the games so much. Alfredo’s the same way. Now that he’s one win away from taking the tournament, you think he’ll kick up a fuss?”
    â€œWell, I hope not,” Eduardo said slowly.
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    At supper, Gianfranco was full of all the details of his epic match with Alfredo. Annarita heard much more about the railroad game than she ever wanted to. Trying to shut Gianfranco up, her mother said, “Then you won, did you? Congratulations!”
    â€œOh, no, Signora Crosetti,” Gianfranco answered. “He beat me. But it was a good game. That’s what really counts.”
    Annarita’s father eyed Gianfranco over the tops of his glasses. “If you can say that and really mean it—and I think you do—you’ve taken a long step toward growing up. You deserve more congratulations for that than you would for winning.”
    â€œ Dottor Crosetti is right,” Gianfranco’s father said. “Things don’t always go the way you want them to. You have to learn to roll with the punches.”
    Comrade Mazzilli was always good for a couple of clichés. An ordinary man, he had ordinary thoughts, and they came out in ordinary ways. The next new idea he had would be the first. But Annarita thought he and her own father were right about this. She wouldn’t have expected Gianfranco to lose a game and
be as proud as if he’d won. But he was, plainly. The Gladiator had more going for it than she would have guessed.
    When they were walking to school the next morning, he asked Annarita, “Did you manage to get that nonsense about The Gladiator being a capitalist plot taken care of?”
    â€œ Sì ,” she said. “Ludovico went along with me on the report, so you don’t need to worry about that any more.”
    â€œ Grazie ,” he told her. Then he said, “You know, I almost asked my old man where The Gladiator gets its games. He could probably find out through purchase records and things. Alfredo was pitching a fit about that last night.”
    It had puzzled Annarita, too. The games and a lot of the books there looked to be in a class by themselves. “Why didn’t you?” she asked.
    He looked sheepish. “I didn’t want to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs, that’s why. Maybe they aren’t as legit and legal as they ought to be, you know? I just plain don’t care. I have too much fun there to want to take any chances about getting those people in trouble. I kept my big mouth shut.” He mimed zipping it closed with the hand that wasn’t carrying his notebook and books.
    â€œIf they are doing something under the table, chances are it’ll come out sooner or later, you know,” Annarita said.
    â€œBetter later than sooner,” Gianfranco answered. “Another tournament’ll start soon, and I’m going to win this one!”
    â€œYou’ve got it bad, don’t you?”