Free The Disinherited by Steve White Page B

hatch behind him. He reminded himself that the use of the given name alone did not carry an implication of familiarity for the Raehaniv; it was simply the usual way of addressing people. But her smile seemed genuine, and her voice held a warmth that the musical accent alone could not entirely account for. It somehow went with her coloring—against the backdrop of space, her hair seemed a warmer blackness . . . . He forced his mind back to practicalities.
    "Yes, you might say that," he acknowledged. "This kind of fusion drive is only a theoretical possibility for us. The system we're building on Phoenix is a crude, brute-force approach—essentially an ongoing series of laser-detonated fusion explosions. So far, controlled fusion power has only been possible in huge installations; even our larger spacecraft still have fission powerplants. Earth itself mostly uses orbital-collected solar power." He paused with a preoccupied frown as he recalled what lay in store for Earth's space effort and, by extension, its civilization.
    Aelanni sensed it. She spoke formally. "I wish to apologize for what I said earlier about your world, Eric. As an outsider, I have no right . . ."
    He grimaced. "Oh, no. You were right on target. Which reminds me of something I've been wondering about. What do you Raehaniv use for a government?"
    "Ever since the end of the Global Wars, we've had a world state presided over by what I believe you would call a constitutional monarch. The world was turning its back on change, and people were looking for continuiuty, for a sense of permanence. All our nations but one, Tranaethein, had expelled their old royal houses by then; but the Arathrain, or king, of Tranaethein, was related to all the principal old dynasties and had some sort of claim to many vacant . . . thrones? And he was a remarkable individual, after a series of nonentities his family had produced—'natural constitutional monarchs' someone unkindly called them. He was a charismatic leader of the move toward global unity, and one nation after another decided to restore its monarchy and declare him the heir to it. This became the legal basis for the unification. The actual legislating is done by the assembly of . . . well, the name would mean nothing to you. It's not an elected body in your sense, but a nominated one." She stepped to a nearby computer terminal, moving with unselfconscious grace in her skintight shipsuit (it was a light green now; he had seen her change it to other colors with a touch of a finger to a certain spot). She spoke a lilting sentence, and the liquid crystal screen displayed a deep-blue hexagon divided by golden lines into six triangular segments, each containing a stylized representation in gold of a different object or group of objects.
    "We don't use 'flags' like yours," Aelanni explained. "But this is the emblem of the Raehaniv state. It shows the symbols of the six principal national dynasties that the first world-Arathrain succeeded to." She pointed. "Like the eight-pointed star of Tranaethein, and . . ." She saw the look on his face and stopped. "What is it, Eric?"
    He pointed an unsteady finger at one of the heraldic symbols. "That," he stated positively, "is a horse."
    "A . . . yes, I believe that is what you call a rhylieu ." She gazed thoughtfully at the rearing quadruped surmounted by a kind of coronet. "I see what is troubling you. But," she shrugged, "there are humans on both worlds, so why not . . . horses, as well? Impossibility, like infinity, cannot be multiplied."
    "Granted. But what the hell is that ?" He pointed at a crouching beast that looked more reptilian than anything else but really looked like nothing ever seen or even imagined on Earth. An oddly shaped sword lay under its forepaws.
    "The mneisafv of Trelalieu. Why?" She gave DiFalco a sharp look. He seemed more shaken than she had ever seen him.
    "Is the mneisafv a mythical animal?" He spoke slowly and deliberately, each word