At the cleaning warehouse of the Mars colony, .
Bris pushed a cart of mops and brooms into the warehouse, signed his na hastily on the tablet terminal, and locked the movable door of the warehouse.
He had been doing janitorial work for so ti.
It was worth ntioning that Celestial Trade did not make him do any work. He applied for these jobs on his own. After all, in this environnt, work beca a kind of pasti. If there was nothing to do, despite the availability of entertainnt facilities in the base, it would still drive people crazy.
Since he was not allowed to touch anything sensitive, then he could only work in janitorial or catering roles.
After he had lived on Mars for half a year, Bris had beco accustod to the life here.
To be honest, his feelings towards this colony were rather complicated.
He saw with his own eyes how this colony gradually regained its advantage from the attack of the Devil Worms and how it developed and grew tenaciously under harsh conditions...
Admire?
Maybe a bit.
But Bris knew that he probably felt more awestruck.
The more he learned, the more he realized how terrifying of an opponent his country faced. Even prehistoric species more than three billion years ago were not enough to defeat them. Even the barren Mars could not stop them from progressing, what else could really stop or threaten them?
Bris had also paid close attention to the approaching general election.
If possible, he hoped that Joseph Kennedy could win, as promised in the campaign pledge, he would push the UA to join the Earth Defense Alliance. Contrary to the views of the nationalists, he did not think it would be a compromise to the fact that the UA was losing its hegemony, but a compromise of history.
After work, Bris was planning to go to the bar for a drink.
Just then, the indicator light on his watch flashed.
After a mont of pause, Bris took out the Bluetooth headset from his pocket and put it in his ear.
“Hello?”
“Co to my office.” Without any nonsense, Hong Zewei, the governor of the colony, said concisely.
...
“How is the mory extraction work going?”
“Very smoothly,” Dr. Amos smiled, “We almost overca the side-effects, and I am going to apply to return to Celestial Trade very soon.”
“There is a flight in two days, you can hitch a ride.” Hong Zewei smiled.
Just now there was a knock on the door, and the two ended the topic simultaneously.
“Then I will go now.”
“Mhmm, go ahead.”
Amos quickly picked up the docunts on the desk, put them back in the sealed docunt bag, and walked to the door.
The moveable door slid open, Bris, who was walking in, passed by Dr. Amos who was heading out.
Hong Zewei looked at the UA astronaut in front of his desk with a smile, then he said.
“How’s it going? Are you getting used to life here after half a year?”
“Getting used to it.” Bris nodded and said helplessly, “I just feel hosick.”
“Let tell you so good news. Probably the day after tomorrow, the flight between Celestial City and the colony will official comnce. Although it is temporarily closed to the public, from the perspective of the friendship between the two countries, we have decided to let you board the ship first with your companions. You will be ho soon.”
Bris processed the information for a mont, but quickly, an ecstatic look replaced his expression.
“Is it true? We can go ho in two days?”
“Of course, it’s true,” Hong Zewei smiled, “Except for the person suspected of espionage that we can’t release for the ti being, all of you can go ho! Go back and pack your things and get ready.”
“I have to go and tell my companions the good news imdiately. Also, thank you!” Bris said sincerely.
“You’re welco, go now.” Hong Zewei smiled.
...
Amy Qassim was a reporter for The Washington Post.
SS Origin recently arrived in the Kuiper Belt, which created an earthquake in the UA. From the financial world to ordinary citizens, everyone was discussing the impact on the UA and the future of mankind.
Following the trend and at the request of the editor-in-chief, Amy was currently writing a report on Origin and Celestial Trade’s aerospace technology. Just as she was contemplating at the word docunt in front of her, soone knocked on her door.
“Co in.”
The door opened, and her imdiate boss, Editor-in-Chief Wood, ca in.
“Stop all the work at hand, I have another more important job waiting for you to deal with.”
“I don’t understand, what is more important than SS Origin?” Amy leaned back against the chair, took a sip of her coffee, and then said with her arms folded in front of her chest.
“Of course it is the election.”
“Oh, God,” Amy sighed exaggeratedly. “The entire dia is covering this farce. Even if a certain candidate has a scandal with soone, we cannot attract more eyeballs with this. People are numb, why don’t you think about it again—”
“The flights between Celestial City and Mars will comnce by the end of the year, and the UA astronauts stranded on Mars are about to co ho. The other thing is the diplomatic eting between Joseph Kennedy and the Xin Ambassador so ti ago, and there have been many private exchanges. I want you to report on these two pieces together.” Wood gestured as he put his fingers together. “Do you know what I an?”
“You an,” Amy frowned slightly, and then her eyes lit up. “Credit the astronauts’ return ho to Mr. Kennedy? Is the source reliable for the private exchange?”
“No, no, you got it wrong.” After Wood stopped Amy’s words, Wood stared at his top reporter’s eyes, smiled, and emphasized it again, “Celestial Trade wants to give the credit to Joseph Kennedy, do you understand what I an?”
Amy Qassim rolled her eyes and suddenly showed a look of realization, “I understand what you an.”
“I trust you.”
When Wood saw his subordinate was so sensible, he did not say more and looked rather pleased. He patted her on the shoulder before he left the office.
After he walked to a secluded place, Wood took a deep breath, took his phone out of his pocket, and dialed an unfamiliar number.
The phone rang twice and soon soone picked up.
“I have finished our arrangent. The report will be written by Amy Qassim, our top reporter. I have done as you requested, do you think...”
“Don’t be nervous, Mr. Wood,” through the phone, the person’s hoarse voice carried a hint of lightness, “I promise, as long as you do what we say, no one will know about your deal with Senator Davis...”
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