Jinx on a Terran Inheritance Read Free Page B

right. Dropping you at the spaceport's no inconvenience. I wish we could do more, but—"
    Redlock waved one thick hand to indicate that that was the way things went. But they already knew the way things went, and one of the ways things didn't go was for even a strong and independent governor like Redlock to defy a hard-nosed old bat like Tiajo once her mind was set on something. Especially for some inconsequential interstellar spindrift the likes of Hobart Floyt and Alacrity Fitzhugh.
    "At any rate," Redlock continued, "there were one or two things I thought I should bring up, the first being how you will prove your claim to your inheritance."
    "I'd wondered about that," Floyt admitted, "but we never got a chance to ask anybody, so I was hoping you'd tell me. Don't I need documentation, or authorization from Tiajo? Or something!"
    "Your proof is right there," Redlock explained, waving at Floyt's belt. "Provisions were made by Director Weir—and don't bother asking me what they were in your case, because I don't know. But I do know that the belt is all the identification you'll need."
    While Floyt was expressing his thanks, musical instruments began tuning up over by the main dance floor. Four young women—the same ones who'd played as a string quartet during the Pearl's voyage to Epiphany—struck up "frisking music" in the lively style originated on Murphy's Law. They played jingle sticks, sonic withes, ocarina, and fingerdrums. They looked the part of a traditional Daubin' Band too, dressed in one-shoulder shimmerskins with mitered vertical black-and-white stripes, pageboy hairstyles, and whiteface makeup.
    file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...aley%20-%20Jinx%20on%20a%20Terran%20Inheritance.htm (10 of 320)19-2-2006 17:12:28
    [Fitzhugh 2]-JINX ON A TERRAN INHERITANCE
    The music sounded so jaunty that Alacrity and Floyt both looked up at Queen Dorraine, who was still silent and distracted in the lectern. But she didn't seem to hear, and Redlock didn't appear inclined to halt it. Clearly Dorraine's mourning rituals didn't require that everyone else take part.
    "By the way, since you're here, Governor"—Alacrity seized the moment—"there's something else. Our guns, I mean. There're still in King's Ransom, I guess?"
    "The fact of the matter is, Alacrity, I had them transferred; they've been inboard the Blue Pearl all along.
    You may have them back when you disembark."
    Now it was Alacrity who said thanks, and even the peaceable Floyt was glad he wouldn't have to face the glaxay without an equalizer.
    In the meantime, another passenger padded up behind Redlock soundlessly. Alacrity focused in on her right away.
    Typical, Floyt thought, looking at his friend. I know he really loves Heart, and I believe him when he says he's going to find her no matter what, but his libido's always set on SCAN.
    Exquisite was the word that came to mind first. She wasn't much taller than Sintilla, which made her all the more unusual to Floyt, what with most offworlders ranging from gangling to behemoth. She had golden skin, long, straight black hair that fell to the level of her hips, and dark almond eyes with a slight epicanthic fold. The delicate perfection of her face started Floyt's own pulse quickening.
    "I don't believe you two have been introduced to Yumi," Redlock said. "She's part of the Daimyo's entourage."
    The Daimyo of the planet Shurutzu had been a minor sensation at Frostpile owing to some fairly zany misadventures.
    "Oh, right," Alacrity said, smiling, heavy-lidded, at her. "Didn't recognize you with your hair down and without the kimono."
    She was wearing a feathery white neck frill, crossed bandeau top of wetsheen, fringed hip-yoke, and high-heeled sandals. Around her upper right arm, her proteus was disguised as a serpentine of rubies, moonpures and kaleidobursts. Her presence brought a subtle odor of jasmine to the air.
    "Stop drooling, before your robe gets soggy, Alacrity." Alacrity looked at Floyt, but