Free The Ninth Circle by R. M. Meluch Page B

She was traveling under the name Glenn Hull, but, as she was married to Patrick Hamilton, the xenos could put the pieces together.
    Director Benet looked to Patrick in suspicion and betrayal. “She’s a thug, isn’t she?”
    The implicit slight in reducing his wife to a pronoun to her face did not escape the linguist. Patrick bristled. “ Glenn is a decorated line officer and veteran of the war.”
    “The war,” Director Benet said witheringly. “Funny how anyone who was in the war is proud of it.” Disbelief and disgust thinned his full lips.
    “Funny that,” said Glenn. Rome had declared the war, and claimed the United States of America as a Roman province. “I just didn’t want to learn Latin.”
    “Everything is an attack to your type,” said Benet.
    Glenn nodded. Possibly . “Especially an attack.”
    “The war is over. Your kind just doesn’t get it.”
    No one who called you your kind ever meant you well.
    Glenn kept her voice even. Let the facts throw the punches. “Then explain what happened to the Spring Beauty .”
    Director Benet said, “You wrested the controls of a LEN spacecraft away from the authorized pilot and crashed it into the ground causing widespread injury and total destruction of the craft.”
    Glenn asked, “What do you make of the piece of manufactured metal lodged in the Beauty ’s hull?”
    “I don’t pretend to have any idea what that shard is. It could be U.S. make for all I know. You’re either covering up your blundering into an asteroid field, or you’re staging a pretext for your country to send guns to the Outback. Your Admiral Nelson— I beg your pardon— Farragut is establishing a bridgehead to the Perseus Arm. The U.S. has no bases in Perseus space. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re coming to take over Zoe! By God, this is monumental. It’s an outrage.”
    “Director Benet, you are wrong,” Glenn said evenly. “The Spring Beauty came under attack by multiple hostiles.”
    She glanced to Manny for support, but the pilot still wasn’t volunteering his version of the story.
    Benet challenged, “So where were these space invaders when all the previous expedition ships were arriving at Zoe? Isn’t it odd that your combatants mysteriously showed up only to attack you ?”
    Glenn had no answer to that.
    Benet went on, “I suppose you are now going to tell me they’re Roman.”
    “They’re not Roman,” Glenn said.
    “Thank you. Finally, a rational statement. Now.” Benet made a show of looking up at the sky. “Explain why there is no rain of aliens following up on their first strike. Funny that your attackers didn’t press their advantage. Isn’t that what your kind does? You must be disappointed.”
    Disappointment was not what she was feeling.
    “There are spacecraft that can’t handle an atmosphere,” said Glenn.
    Director Benet said, “When your battleship arrives, you will get on it and depart.”
    Glenn was afraid of what she would say, so she kept silent. She’d never liked the League of Earth Nations.
    They wish we’d go knuckle-walk back to our caves, and we veterans, well, we just want to shoot them. That left Patrick in the middle, the worst place to be.
    Patrick tried to explain, “You’ve got to understand, Izzy is an administrator. He’s a fund-raiser. He’s accustomed to overstating his case for dramatic effect. He goes hyperbolic. Don’t take it personally.”
    “Patrick,” said Glenn, her palm up. “Please stop talking.”
    Izrael Benet was right about one thing. When her battleship arrived, she would get on it.

     
    Space Control detained the Terra Rican racing yacht Mercedes in port on the planet Aotearoa in the Perseid arm of the galaxy.
    Aotearoa was a New Zealand colony, but the officer who boarded the Terra Rican yacht was Roman.
    The officer extracted data from Mercedes ’ control console and demanded of Jose Maria de Cordillera, “Purpose of your travel?”
    Nobel Laureate Jose Maria Rafael Meridia de Cordillera