Jinx on a Terran Inheritance Read Free Page A

nodded.
    "I endorse that plan." He gazed around.
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    [Fitzhugh 2]-JINX ON A TERRAN INHERITANCE
    The shuttle was a splendidly airy place, with sculpture and foliage, flowers and small trees in abundance, the plants buoying the air with their fragrance. The lighting was pleasantly subtle, the carpets were handwoven masterworks.
    There weren't many other passengers. Queen Dorraine was standing alone in a small, lecternlike structure high and off to one side in the dome, staring out into the night, lost in thought. Her father—first Councilor Inst—had died only that morning.
    The Severeemish envoys, Minister Seven Wars and Theater General Sortie-Wolf, father and son, stood with their two bodyguards. The four hulking males of a genetically engineered and selectively bred race, they dwarfed everyone else inboard.
    In Floyt's opinion, they couldn't really be called human at all. They had long, bony, top-heavy skulls, putty-gray skin, nails like metal talons, and hair resembling white steel wool. They were on their way home, taking along Redlock and Dorraine in order to work out an urgently needed alliance.
    In the middle of the Pearl's central dance floor, which was empty, a small pedestal of ornate Epiphanian wheywood supported a small, smooth, white porcelain box. Floyt wondered if it were some sort of goodwill offering.
    No longer the center of attention, the two made their way to an observation point—the shuttle being mostly observation points—for a last look at breathtaking, ethereal Frostpile.
    "There's Weir's suite," Floyt said. "You can tell it from the whatsit on the terrace."
    "Causality harp," Alacrity supplied, his eyes locked to it. "That's what old Dame Tiajo called it." The causality harp was a shifting, glowing nebula five meters high, hanging stationary, filled with mists of light, shimmering phase-portraits, and hazy half images. Floyt could almost hear its eerie tonalities and deep, nearly subsonic hum. Tiajo had said it was comparable to wind chimes.
    "Was she serious, d'you suppose? Alacrity?"
    Alacrity shook his head slowly, not to signify no, but to show that he didn't know.
    The Blue Pearl put Frostpile behind her. They realized someone was coming their way.
    Governor Redlock was only a bit taller than Floyt, but broad as a door and powerful-looking. He had battered, canny features and a lumpy pug nose; the topknot that gave him his name was going gray. He wore the black dress uniform of his Celestials and a crescent gorget with nine assorted sunburst insignia picked out in glittering gemstones against black enamel, to represent the star-systems under his governance. He also wore an Inheritor's belt.
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    [Fitzhugh 2]-JINX ON A TERRAN INHERITANCE
    "You needn't have run, gentlemen," he said with a half smile.
    "We, ah, needed the exercise," Alacrity explained lamely.
    The governor looked from one to the other. "But, of course; that's understandable enough. After all, you two haven't been in any trouble for—what is it now? Nearly an hour?"
    While Alacrity stammered, determined not to mention Sintilla, Floyt filled in. "At any rate, we're very, very grateful to you and Queen Dorraine. If you hadn't offered us a ride, we'd have been in an awfully bad fix."
    He didn't need to add that they were destitute and desperate for the reason that Dame Tiajo, Redlock's sovereign, had denied them any funds for travel to Blackguard. Like her late brother, she disliked Earthservice; she therefore detested Floyt's aim to take the starship back home for the profit of the bureaucracy.
    She was unaware of the conditioning that compelled Alacrity and Floyt to carry out their mission, and they were prevented by that conditioning from mentioning it.
    "Quite all