Mars colony, cleaning warehouse.

Brees put a cart of mops and brooms into the warehouse, and hauled his name on the tablet terminal, and locked the activity door of the warehouse.

It has been a while since I was engaged in cleaning.

It is worth mentioning that the people who traded in the ring did not let him work. These jobs were all applied for by him. After all, in this kind of environment, work is a kind of pastime. If there is nothing to do, even if there are a lot of entertainment facilities in the base, it will drive people crazy.

Sensitive work, the new Chinese will not let him touch, then the only remaining department of cleaning and catering is what he can go.

After living in Mars for half a year, Brace has basically adapted to life here.

To be honest, the feelings in his heart are quite complicated for this colony.

He was watching with his own eyes how the colony gradually regained its advantage from the devil's offensive, how to develop and grow up under the harsh conditions...

admire?

Maybe a bit.

But Brees is very clear, the feelings in his heart, I am afraid that more is awe.

The more he touched, the more profound he realized that his country was facing a terrible opponent. Even prehistoric species more than three billion years ago are not enough to defeat them. Even Mars, which is not born from grass, can't stop them from developing. What else can really block or threaten them?

Brees has also recently paid attention to the election.

If possible, he hopes that John F. Kennedy will come to power and promote the United States to join the Earth Defense Alliance, as promised in the campaign promise. Contrary to the views of the people and the tribes, he does not think that this is a compromise on the loss of hegemony, but a compromise on history.

At the end of the work, Brace is preparing to go to the bar for a drink.

Just then, the indicator light on his watch flashed slightly.

Slightly squatting, Brace took the Bluetooth headset out of his pocket and stuffed it into his ear.

"Hey?"

"Come to my office." Without any extra nonsense, the Governor of Mars Colony Hong Zewei opened the door on the phone.

......

"How is the memory reading work going?"

“Very smooth,” Dr. Amos said with a smile. “The sequelae have been overcome, and I am going to apply to return to Star City in the near future.”

"There is a flight two days later, you can take a ride." Hong Zewei smiled.

At this time, a knock on the door came, and the two men ended the conversation.

"Then I will go first."

"Well, you are busy."

Amos simply cleaned up the documents on the table, put it back in a sealed bag, and turned to walk toward the door.

The side of the activity door was removed, and Brace, standing outside the office, passed by Dr. Amos, who was walking away from the office, and walked into the office.

Looking at the American astronaut standing at the desk, Hong Zewei first smiled and said.

"How? Is it still a habit after half a year?"

"Get used to it." Brace nodded and said helplessly. "It's just a little homesick."

"Tell you a good news, probably the day after tomorrow, the flight to and from the Star City and the Mars colony officially started. Although it is not open to the public, but from the perspective of friendship between the two countries, we decided to let you board the ship first. You With your companion, you will be able to go home soon."

Brees gave a slight glimpse, and then his face appeared ecstatic.

“What are you talking about? Can we go home in two days?”

"Of course it is true," Hong Zewei said with a smile. "In addition to your suspected espionage, we can't let go of it for a while, all of you can go home! Go back and pack up and prepare."

"I have to tell my companion this good news right away. And, thank you!" Brace said earnestly.

"You're welcome, go ahead." Hong Zewei smiled.

......

Amy Kassim is a reporter for The Washington Post.

Recently, the origin number arrived in the Kuiper Belt, and the entire American society came to a three-level earthquake. From the financial sector to the ordinary civilians, no one knows, no one knows. Everyone is talking about how this will affect the future of the United States and even humanity.

In line with the trend of public opinion, and at the same time as the editor-in-chief, Amy is currently working on a report on the origin number and the aerospace technology of the ring. Just as she was thinking about the documents on the computer, a knock at the door of the office came.

"Come in."

The door was pushed open, and her head boss, Wood editor.

"The work at hand is all stopped. I have another more important job waiting for you to deal with."

"I don't understand, is there anything more important than the origin number?" He leaned on the chair and drank his coffee, Amy said, holding his chest.

"Of course it is the US election."

"Oh, God," Amy exclaimed exaggeratedly. "The entire American media is reporting this farce. Even if a question candidate has an anecdote with someone, we can't attract more with this. Eyeballs. People are already numb, are you considering it again?"

"The Star City and Mars flights are open at the end of the year, and the American astronauts who are stranded on Mars are about to return home. Another is the diplomatic meeting between John F. Kennedy and the New Zealand ambassador some time ago, and has conducted many exchanges in private. I hope that you will The incident was reported together." Wood made a two-pointed index together. "Do you understand what I mean?"

"You mean," Amy frowned slightly, and then her eyes lit up. "Is the credit for returning the astronauts to Mr. Kennedy's head? Is there a private exchange? Is the source reliable?"

"No, no, you understand it wrong," Stopped Amy's words. Wood stared at the head of the top reporter. He smiled slightly and stressed again. "The Stars Trade is ready to give this credit to John." Kennedy, do you understand what I mean?"

Amy Kassim’s eyes turned and she suddenly showed a blank expression. “I understand what you mean.”

"Do it well."

Seeing his own savvy, Wood didn't say anything more, grinned with satisfaction, reached out and patted her shoulder, and turned away from the office.

When he walked to a secluded place, Wood took a deep breath and took the phone out of his pocket and dialed the strange number.

The phone rang twice and soon the opposite was connected.

"I have already done the matter. The report was written by Amy Kassim, our top reporter. I have done it according to your requirements. Do you think it is..."

"Don't be nervous, Mr. Wood," the hoarse voice on the phone, with a smile. "I promise, as long as you do what we say, you and the Davis MP will not know anyone. ......"