Moonrise

Moonrise Read Free Page A

Book: Moonrise Read Free
Author: Ben Bova
Ads: Link
economically viable.
That
was why Paul rammed them past Masterson’s board of directors—including the late Gregory Masterson II.
    The Clipperships would help Moonbase to break into the black, if Greg Masterson III didn’t kill Moonbase first.
    But as the cool, quiet limousine made its way out of the airport and onto the throughway, crowded with the world’s most aggressive drivers, Paul realized that the Clipperships meant even more to him than Moonbase’s possible salvation.He had made the Clippers a success, true enough. But they had made a success of him, as well. Paul’s skin was no darker than a swarthy Sicilian’s, but he was a black ex-astronaut when he started at Masterson, all those years ago. With the accent on the black. The success of the Clipperships had elevated him to the exalted level of being the black manager of Masterson’s space operations division, in Savannah, and a black member of the board of directors.
    And the black lover of the dead boss’s wife, he added wryly to himself.
    Paul had never liked New York. As his limo headed through the swarming traffic along the bumpy, potholed throughway toward the bridge into Manhattan, Paul thought that New York wasn’t a city, it was an oversized frenetic anthill, always on the verge of explosion. Even twenty years after the so-called Renaissance Laws, the place was still overcrowded, noisy, dangerous.
    Electricity powered all the cars, trucks and buses bound for Manhattan. Old-style fossil-fueled vehicles were not allowed through the tunnels or over the bridges that led into the island. That had cleaned the air a good bit, although hazy clouds of pollution still drifted in from New Jersey, across the Hudson.
    Police surveillance cameras hung on every street corner and miniaturized unmanned police spotter planes were as common in the air as pigeons. Vendors, even kids who washed windshields when cars stopped for traffic lights, had to display their big yellow permits or be rousted by the cops who rode horseback in knots of threes and fives through the crowded streets.
    Yet the streets still teemed with pitchmen hawking stolen goods, kids exchanging packets of drugs, prostitutes showing their wares. All that the Renaissance Laws had accomplished, as far as Paul could see, was to drive violent crime off the streets. There was still plenty of illicit activity, but it was organized and mostly nonviolent. You might get propositioned or offered anything from the latest designer drugs to the latest designer fashions, fresh off a hijacked truck. But you wouldn’t get mugged. Probably.
    Still, the limo had to thread its way across the ancient bridges and along the narrow, jam-packed streets. The windshieldgot washed—partially—four different times, and the chauffeur had to slip a city-issued token through his barely-opened window to the kids who splashed the brownish water onto the car.
    He must use up the whole tank of windshield cleaner every trip, Paul thought as the limo inched downtown, wipers flapping away.
    At one intersection a smiling trio of women tapped on Paul’s window, bending low enough to show they were wearing nothing beneath their loose blouses. Kids, Paul realized. Beneath their heavy makeup they couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old. A trio of mounted policemen watched from their horses, not twenty yards away.
    Paul shook his head at the whores. I’ve gotten this far in life without killing myself, he thought. The girls looked disappointed. So did the cops. Then the traffic light went green and the limo pulled away.
    By the time he got to the corporate offices in the Trade Towers, Paul needed a drink. The walnut-panelled board room had a bar and a spread of finger foods set up in the back, but neither a bartender nor a waitress had shown up yet. Paul did not see any tequila. He settled for a beer, instead.
    Paul had always been one of the early ones at board meetings, but this time apparently he was the first. The opulent

Similar Books

Bone Deep

Gina McMurchy-Barber

In Vino Veritas

J. M. Gregson

Wolf Bride

Elizabeth Moss

Just Your Average Princess

Kristina Springer

Mr. Wonderful

Carol Grace

Captain Nobody

Dean Pitchford

Paradise Alley

Kevin Baker

Kleber's Convoy

Antony Trew