"Williamson,.Michael.Z.-.Freehold" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williamson Michael Z)

Earth customs. Our climate encourages casual nudity, but I'm sure
you're not used to it. She'll be back momentarily. Coffee?"

"Yes, please," Kendra nodded, shifting her hands around to keep
herself covered. While the ambassador poured, the guard
knocked, stepped in, handed Kendra a robe and moved
unobtrusively into the corner. Donning the garment, Kendra felt
much more comfortable.

The ambassador spoke again. "I am Citizen Ambassador Janine
Maartens of the Freehold of Grainne. You are Sergeant Second
Class Kendra Anne Pacelli of the UN Peace Force, wanted for
embezzlement and pictured on all the news loads. I am recording.
Please tell me briefly why in the name of God and Goddess you
are in our embassy?"

"I need asylum," Kendra began. "I was—"

Maartens interrupted with, "We do not grant asylum to crimin—"

"I DIDN'T DO IT!" Kendra shouted her down. "I knew nothing
about it until this morning when the MPs tried to grab me. I have
little idea what is going on, but I know they need me as a
scapegoat. General Robinson probably has me rigged to take the
fall as part of his cutout. My only way out is to get off Earth."

Sitting down, Maartens chewed on a pen. "Tell me the rest of it,"
she demanded while gesturing at another chair.

Sitting also, Kendra breathed deep and said, "I was assigned to
the Forty-Third Logistics Support Function's detachment during the
Mtali Mission. The general and Colonel Bruder were very
concerned with our operation. Stuff was missing by the truckload
on a daily basis and they made us keep track of it. No one knows
where the stuff was going, so there had to be inside help. They
were probably selling it to the rebels is my guess. This is all
deduction in the last four hours. Then, I assumed the problem was
being investigated. Eight a.m. today, the MPs were going to drag
me off for questioning. I saw where things were going, thanks to a
friend of mine. I left the base and drove around until I figured out
that of all colony worlds, you could probably help me."

"We are not a colony anymore, Sergeant," Maartens said coldly,
then thought hard. Colonel Richard, the Freehold unit commander
from the Mtali mission, had made similar deductions regarding the
UN forces logistics system. Pacelli's story was probably true.
Perhaps the military would be interested in her information. Citizen
Maartens would have to decide that on her own. Unlike a national
ambassador on Earth, she could not call for advice; advice was
thirty-four light years away and any question would take at least two