Jinx on a Terran Inheritance by Brian Daley

His esteem for Your Excellency!"
    "If you insist. These two here beside me are Citizen Hobart Floyt and Master Alacrity Fitzhugh. For their own reasons, they wish to attend the upcoming Grapple."
    "Grapple, Governor Redlock?"
    "Grapple. I thought you might advise them as to how to get there."
    " This One, Lord? But Grapples are iniquitous gatherings. What would Someone know of them?"
    "Ah, my error. I'd heard that you've been known to attend them. So I was told by Deputy Minister Nightweather—who's in charge of commerce regulations and, oh, preferential trade agreements."
    "A splendid and noble man to be sure, Your Excellency. Does This One take it then that these gentlemen here wish to book passage or charter His Pihoquiaq ?" Amarok asked without much optimism.
    Redlock's response was flat. "They don't. They want to attend the Grapple and perhaps receive some guidance there. Naturally, if it is in the least inconvenient for you to suggest anything, dismiss it from your mind altogether. Deputy Minister Nightweather informs me that the trader Munificent of Tillman Quendal is due soon. Maybe Quendal will have a helpful thought."
    Amarok took the plunge with a completely believable smile pasted across his wide face, Alacrity had to grant him that.
    "Ooo! An idea occurs! This One can transport these two intimates of the Weir Domain to the Grapple in the Pihoquiaq, and be their advisor and guardian!"
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    [Fitzhugh 2]-JINX ON A TERRAN INHERITANCE
    Redlock contrived to look surprised. "That is truly a noble gesture, Amarok," Dorraine said elatedly.
    "We'll have to remember to mention it to Deputy Minister Nightweather."
    There was a little more of the same, then Amarok begged leave to go make ready to depart. He was scheduled to get underway in a little over an hour.
    Before the trader left, Alacrity managed to get in, "What kind of ship is the Pho —the Phio —"
    "Pihoquiaq" Amarok supplied. "It means Ever-wandering one. That is what Someone's ancestors called the white bear on old Earth. Pihoquiaq is a converted monitor."
    Alacrity's face fell. "Real fine. Looking forward to it."
    When Amarok was gone, Redlock said, "I take it you've shipped in a monitor?"
    Alacrity sighed. "Uh-huh. But don't get me wrong! We've got a ship and a destination now; wouldn't have either, or any money, if it wasn't for you."
    "Yes, and I don't quite see how we can ever hope to pay you back," Floyt put in.
    "Don't mention it." Redlock waved a hand. "Belt-favors come in assorted forms, from pulling a few strings to, oh, lending a hand in a landing party, for instance."
    That wasn't the first time Floyt had heard the Inheritor's belts referred to that way. "What is a belt-favor?" Perplexed, he fingered the ring of plaques around his middle.
    "We wanted to make sure you understood the custom surrounding Inheritors—that they can call on one another in time of need," Dorraine said.
    "No one bothered to tell me about that," Floyt said slowly. "Thanks."
    "I thought that Tiajo might neglect telling you," Redlock added. "Hang on to that belt, Citizen Floyt."
    Alacrity was already running down the list of other Inheritors in his mind. They were spread all across that part of human space, and in many places beyond.
    Who might be willing to do us a favor if we — Ho — needed it? Stare Skill and Kid Risk, I'll bet. And Maska, if we ever run into him again. Sir John? Seven Wars and Sortie-Wolf, for certain.
    "I hate to seem abrupt," Redlock said briskly, "but you two haven't much time."
    "I am bound by the same proscriptions as my husband," Dorraine announced, "but they wouldn't apply to a few going-away presents. Perhaps something to make a long voyage in a monitor more bearable?"
    "Alacrity," Redlock said, "surely you can think of a few things. Speak up; don't make us drag it out of