Code Duello

laws made it practically impossible for anybody else to get on the ballot You could demonstrate in the streets until…”

Dr. Horsten put in hurriedly, his voice rising above his young colleague’s, “Ah, Maggiore Verona, although this is not my first visit to your estimable world, I must confess a considerable ignorance of your institutions. I note that you use a certain amount of terminology foreign to Earth Basic.”

The Florentine had been staring at Jerry, but now he shook his head slightly and turned to the scientist. “You are probably referring, my dear Doctor, to an admitted bit of affectation. The first colonizing ships to land on Firenze, though immediately from the planet Avalon, originally came from the most elite section of Mother Earth— Italy.”

“Wops,” Helen muttered, rocking the doll vigorously.

The maggiore did a double take. ” What?” he said, his voice unbelieving.

Helen tossed Gertrude up high. “Whoops!” she said. “Whoops we go.”

The maggiore, his expression slightly shaken, looked back at the bland faced scientist. “At any rate, a few words of the mother tongue are still retained.”

“I see.” Horsten nodded.

The chauffeur said something over his shoulder and the maggiore announced, “Here we are, the Albergo Palazzo.” He opened his own door before the driver could get around to it, and helped the others from their places. Half a dozen hotel employees darted forward to assist.

On the way to the reception desk, the self-named assistant to the Third Signore was in apology.

“You have no idea, Signore Horsten, how short hotel accommodations are. Firenze—the capital city, you know, has the same name as the planet—is packed. But packed, Doctor. We are desolated, but we have had to reserve for you and Signorina Helen what was formerly a single room, on the ground floor, behind the main dining hall.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll manage,” the doctor murmured, somewhat taken aback.

“And you, Signore,” Roberto Verona said to Zorro. “This is most regrettable. The room of an assistant janitor, down in the basement, has been requisitioned as an emergency measure.”

Zorro Juarez winced. “Oh, great,” he growled.

Jerry said, “How about me?”

The Florentine rubbed his hand over his mouth. He said, finally, “Well… we’ll have to see, Signore Rhodes.”

Helen looked up at Jerry from the side of her eyes, and snorted amusement. She had her doll under one arm, her hatbox of toys held in her other hand.

At the reception desk, the Horstens and Zorro were taken care of quickly and with the ambiance of another era. The Section G operatives had already noticed, in mild surprise, the presence of bellhops. Evidently the carry- over of Latin temperament had led to various anachronisms so far as hotels were concerned on Firenze.

But then the morning-suited dignitary officiating as reservation clerk looked at Jerry Rhodes. “Yes, sir?” he said.

Maggiore Verona spoke up, an element of despair in his voice. “Ah, the Signore Rhodes is an honored guest from the planet Catalina. If it is at all possible…” He let his sentence sink away, knowing full well the Palazzo was packed to the rafters.

But the clerk broke into a beam. He evidently had misinterpreted the government official’s concern about Jerry. He gushed, “But how fortunate, sir!”

Jerry said, his voice off-hand, “I’d like the largest suite you have available. Something in tune with my standing.”

Helen snickered.

The reception clerk gushed, “By the most fortunate of circumstances, Signore, we have just received a message from the First Signore’s secretary, informing us he will not attend the convention. Hence, his suite will be available.”

“Gurg,” the maggiore said.

“That should do it.” Jerry nodded.

“Oh no,” Helen muttered.

Jerry turned to Dr. Horsten, grinning hospitably. “I say, Doc. It occurs to me…” He turned back to the clerk. “How many rooms in this suite? Bedrooms?”

“Why, Signore, there are six, not including the master bedroom of the First Signore, when he is in residence. Six and six baths, and…”

Jerry turned again and spread his hands. “Fine. Doc, you and little Helen. Move in with me. You won’t bother me at all.” He hesitated slightly, but then turned on his hospitality once again. “You too, Juarez. That janitor’s room of yours wouldn’t be any too comfortable.”

Zorro hesitated, his dark face unhappy. “Well… thanks,” he said. “A janitor’s room isn’t exactly the place I’d like to take business contacts.”

Jerry waved a hand nonchalantly. “Then it’s all settled.” He turned to the maggiore. “See that they send up all the bags, eh, like a good chap.”

The assistant of the Third Signore flinched.

On the way up to the penthouse, where the suite of the First Signore was located, Helen kept her eyes on Jerry accusingly. She said, a nasty element in her voice, “I’m not even going to ask how you ever pulled that off. I know the answer.”

Jerry grinned condescendingly at her.

Helen snorted disgust.

The maggiore had bid them temporary addio, promising to look in to ascertain their needs, after they had become established. So it was that an assistant manager with a host of subservient bellhops saw them to their quarters.

Jerry said airily to that worthy, “See that these lads are suitably recompensed and the item added to my bill. Be generous, of course. I’m notorious for overtipping.”

The hotel official bowed gently, his face expressionless. “I have been informed of otherworld usage, Signore, however, on Firenze, the gratuity is not accepted.”

“You can’t be serious!”

The other flushed. “But I am, Signore.”

“You mean these… boys… aren’t interested in, say, an interplanetary credit, split up between them?”

“That is what I mean.”

Jerry scoffed overbearingly. “Oh, you’re crazy.”

One of the bellhops stepped up to the assistant manager. “If the Signore direttore requires a second…”

Another of the bellhops stepped up.

Dom Horsten hurriedly lumbered forward and took the hotel junior official by an arm. He beamed in all friendliness. “Ah, thank you ever so much. Wonderful hotel, you have here, Signore. Wonderful hospitality.” He was propelling the other toward the door. “How well staffed! How immaculately clean!”

Zorro held the door open.

When the Florentine and his bevy of bellhops were gone, Zorro leaned back against the door and ran a hand over his forehead. “Whew,” he whewed. Then he allowed himself a glare at Jerry.

Jerry said, “When I’m told to play a playboy, I play a playboy.”

Horsten and Helen were both making faces at him. Helen held a tiny finger to her lips, then showed her teeth at him.

Jerry Rhodes blinked.

Helen tossed her hatbox to a chair, turned Gertrude bottoms-up pulled up the doll’s skirt, and twisted something on the toy’s back. Helen then handed the doll to her large partner.

Horsten, in turn, took it about the room, holding it toward the light fixtures, the decorations, the furniture, here, there, everywhere, and when one room was done, the next.

The other three followed him, the why-of-it-all becoming obvious even to Jerry Rhodes.