Thrive Earth Return (Thrive Colony Corps Space Adventures Book 1) by Ginger Booth

Author:Ginger Booth [Booth, Ginger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-19T16:00:00+00:00

25

American programs of internal ‘culling’ strengthened their standing in the Northern League, and reduced domestic friction against the new regime.

At his host’s invitation, Clay sank into a generous armchair, and breathed luxury. He gazed around the hushed study, drinking in the layers of texture, rich woods, books with leather bindings, tasteful plants in spotlights, textured velvet walls, deep rugs, each a work of art. While outside the enormous sashed windows a vicious storm had arrived.

A guilty doubt about Darren’s piloting flitted into his consciousness, to be firmly evicted. Because Clay knew these halls of power, and must pay very careful attention indeed. In such a room, devious men tread circuitous routes to learn what they wished to know. Fortunately, the first mate was born to those rooms.

Fidget lay quietly along the wall where he laid her.

He let his eyes settle on his host, Melkor. Unlike Sass, Clay paid attention to fashion. Most Dome people wore uniforms, or clothes so lacking in flair they might as well be uniforms. Not so the middle-aged man before him, in meticulously tailored wool twill jacket, of expensive drape, devoid of lapels, over a smooth business shirt with a subdued luster. Before leading his guest here, he introduced himself modestly as an assistant attaché of international relations. From his attire, Clay read him as high up the food chain indeed, and headed higher.

Clay found it more comfortable to read the furniture, ambiance, and clothes than to meet the bureaucrat’s eyes. In this sumptuous room, he met with a fish person. The protuberant gelid orange eyes reminded him of a clownfish in his father’s aquarium when he was a child. The man’s gestures were genteel and understated, executed with webbed fingers. And clownfish were extinct.

“A lovely room,” Clay purred, admiring a tastefully erotic statuette.

“Indeed. In the Ministry, we must entertain the most powerful of visitors. And you, Rocha. You must be highly regarded among your people, to be sent as emissary on such an historic mission!”

Actually he was first mate, and no one on Mahina gave a fig. Even Ben’s parent company, Thrive Spaceways, took a dim view. ‘Lotta red ink, buddy,’ were Cope’s exact words, Ben’s husband and CEO. ‘Try to make a profit. Somehow.’

“I have some influence,” Clay allowed, and shifted his focus to his decades of service to Mahina Security, as liaison between haves and have-nots. And his son was a grand pooh-bah these days. Yes, powerful people back home listened to him. “My world seeks to expand its acquaintance.”

He smiled, and noticed that Melkor’s facial muscles didn’t appear equipped for much expression. Well, they’d smelled each other enough. “Our primary challenge in the colonies is that we are few. As you know, less than three million left Earth –”

“Closer to two million, wasn’t it?” There, a twitch at corner of his mouth, and a smoothening of his voice to gentle his contradiction. “Spread across a number of new worlds, wasn’t it? What was that number?”

“Unclear.” Clay stuck to his own chosen narrative. “On my moon, Mahina, we had only one dome.

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