Part 7
202 Words
SEVEN
"More champagne, ma'am?" the air hostess asked. She didn't seem to care that the clashing combination of pink and orange on her uniform was hideous. Or perhaps she didn't know.
Gaia shook her head and the woman in the garish dress left her alone with her Financial Review. A glance out the window told her that they weren't in Broome yet, for the monotonous landscape of red rocks stretched from one horizon to the other. Not for the first time, it reminded her of the surface of Mars. Was that particular planet as rich in mineral resources as her own? If it was, the mining company who claimed it would be rich beyond its wildest dreams. There'd be no pesky environmental regulations, for there'd be no environment to ruin and rehabilitate afterwards. There'd be no such thing as minimum wages, either – she could bring in staff from whatever country she pleased, and pay them accordingly. No unions, no safety standards...Mars would make gold mines look insignificant in comparison.
The stewardess' voice startled her out of her Martian dreams: "Could you please stow your table, ma'am? We're about to commence our descent into Broome."
Broome. Mars could wait. First, she had this world to conquer. Then she could start on the next.
- Writer
