"Ciao, Eduardo. Come sta?" Gianfranco said.

"I'm fine," Eduardo answered. "How are you?"

"I'll live. I made it through another day of school," Gianfranco said. Eduardo thought that was funny. Gianfranco wished he did. He went on, "Is Carlo here yet?"

"Si. He just got here a couple of minutes ago," Eduardo told him. "He thinks he's going to clean your clock-he said so."

"In his dreams!" Gianfranco exclaimed. That touched his honor-or he imagined it did, anyhow. A lot of people called honor an outdated, aristocratic idea. Maybe it was, but plenty of Italians still took it seriously anyhow. Gianfranco set ten lire on the counter: two hours' worth of gaming time. "I'll show him!"

"Go on into the back room," Eduardo said. "I may have to give you some of your money back-I don't know if Carlo can stay till six."

"I'll worry about that later," Gianfranco said. He had money-more money than he knew what to do with. Even if his father wasn't a big Party wheel, he was a Party member. That all by itself just about guaranteed you wouldn't come close to being broke. The trouble was finding anything worth buying for your lire. Cars and apartments had waiting lists years long. TV sets kept you waiting for months. So did halfway decent sound systems. You could get cheap junk right away-but you got what you paid for if you spent your money like that.

A couple of hours of fun? Cheap at the price.

Other people-almost all of them guys from a couple of years younger than Gianfranco up to, say, thirty-sat bent over tables in the back room. They studied game boards with the attention they should have given to schoolwork. Carlo looked up and waved when he saw Gianfranco. "Ciao" he said. "Watch what I do to you."

"You can try," Gianfranco said, and sat down across from his gaming partner. Carlo was nineteen, just starting at the university. His father wanted him to be a pharmacist. He didn't know what he wanted to do with his life-anything but push pills, probably. Gianfranco felt the same way about being a bureaucrat.