The drink flows, and Derek feels warmer.
“So, what was it like growing up on the moon?” Aaron asks Derek. “It must have been great to be able to look up at the stars and to see the lunar surface.”
Derek stops to ponder his response. “Most of the time, it was pretty boring, to be honest. It’s like being stuck on a small island where the scenery never changes and where you must justify your own existence.”
Mick rubs his nose and then speaks for the first time. “I take it you’re not a fan of the authorities?”
Grinning Derek replied, “You do realize that you are speaking to probably the most wanted either down here or up there.”
Mick’s jaw clenched, “Can we trust you?”
Gasps went out from those in the room.
“Of course, we can trust him,” Maeve interrupted.
“It’s ok, everyone, I prefer to talk candidly like this. Yes, you can trust me,” Derek says, staring right at him.
“Good,” Mick replied, “We have a lot of work to get through. And some of our best work is done while drinking whiskey.”
Mick takes out a blue and white schematic. “This is our next target.”
Mark's Writing Corner 