Cibola Burn (Expanse, #4)

by James S.A. Corey

“We’re a year and a half from anywhere,” Wei said. The implication—No one can stop us from doing anything we choose—hung in the air. “We’re also hours away from every screen and newsfeed from Earth to Neptune,” Reeve said. “This sucks, but we’ve got the moral high ground. If we overreact, it’ll be another round of the evil corporations oppressing the poor Belters. We’re in a post-Protogen world. We don’t win that.” “Didn’t know they’d made you political officer,” Wei said, and Reeve’s jaw went tight. When Murtry spoke, his voice was calm and level and threatening as a rattlesnake. “That. We’re not doing that.” “Sir?” Reeve said. “The thing where we start sniping at each other. We don’t do that here.” Wei and Reeve looked at each other. “I’m sorry, sir,” Wei said. “I was out of line.” “Not a problem, because it’s not going to happen again,” Murtry said.