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

be silent, she having nothing concealed, she was reassured that it
didn't betray anything. Illogical, but her current situation had her
scared beyond reason. "Bend over," she heard, and complied.
There was the expected snap of a medical exam glove and cold
but surprisingly gentle prodding, which she knew included a
camera and another sensor. These people were thorough. She
shivered despite herself. A door opened, and she was pushed
gently but firmly into what was obviously a cell. The door closed
with an ominous heavy click.

Kendra looked around, breathing again, and took stock of her
environment. It was adequately warm, well lighted, and contained a
stall shower, a toilet, a sink and a futon with a quilt. The whole room
measured three meters square.

There was a security camera mounted in one corner. It was not
even discreetly hidden. Kendra stared at it as it glared unblinkingly
at her. Finally, she made an obscene gesture and ignored it. She
needed to use the toilet, and the camera obviously wasn't going to
be a gentleman. Or lady. Or polite machine.

Brooding and pacing would be totally unproductive, so she
brooded and paced. She had no idea of the passage of time, and
was wondering if this attempt at asylum was the right idea. So far,
she had been asked no questions, given no opportunity to speak
and had no clue what was going on.

Right idea or not, she had to play it out to the end. There was no
possible way she could return now and be believed innocent.

After what seemed like hours, the door was opened. The
redheaded woman was there alone, without armor. She still carried
her rifle/grenade launcher. Her combat uniform, designed to be
loose, was close in spots over firm muscles. She motioned slightly
with the muzzle and said, "This way. You can see the ambassador
now." Her voice was amazingly well modulated and pleasant.

Kendra walked out, still naked, preceding her guard. She was
directed when to turn and quickly realized how large the building
was. She passed a man in one of the corridors, who nodded
disenterestedly. She flushed crimson. The second man they
passed swapped greetings with the guard and Kendra wished for a
swift end to her ordeal. After several minutes, she was shown into
a well-lighted office with large windows. The woman behind the
desk stood, nodded briefly at Kendra and said, "Romar, please get
a robe for our guest. There's one in my suite." The guard snapped
to and left.

Turning back, the ambassador continued, "Please accept my
apologies. Well-disciplined guards, but not overly familiar with