Shoshone Station: The Galactic Consortium season 2

Episode Four: Meteors #19

Lannister watched as the elevator rose in the center of the bottom court and opened up. For the first time since the station had opened, the doors slid apart and a stream of people issued forth. It was a good feeling, he had to admit.

And good timing. It was mid-December and down below they were counting the remaining shopping days before Christmas. Businesses up here, especially among the Shoshone collective, worried that they wouldn't normalize relations until after the holiday seasons, and they'd not recoup those sales until next year, if ever.

They'd announced yesterday the new regulations. Any American citizen with a valid government-issued ID could come up to the station. Entry to the top level and the spaceport would require a passport.

Many of the new arrivals were sightseers, spreading out across the court. A small contingent were press, and most of them made their way toward where Lannister and his delegation stood waiting.

Lannister greeted them and gave a short speech, welcoming them to the station.

"Are you happy to have the station open to the public?" one asked.

"Very much so," Lannister replied.

"So for Christmas shoppers," another asked. "What is the have to have gift from the station?"

"I'm glad you asked," Lannister said. He lifted his foot and stood with one foot up on a thick, grayish, oblong block. It was maybe a meter and half long and a half meter tall. "This is the most important thing for visitors to get." He gestured at the block. "Not the prettiest thing to look at, or the easiest to giftwrap. Luckily, you don't have to do either. You never even have to see one in person. This is a standard energy block. A giant battery, if you will.

"As some of you might already know, energy is the primary output of the station, and for the time being, the primary means of exchange between us and the Consortium. To make things simple for day visitors, we've set up a booth at the ground station and on the court when you first come in. You can purchase energy units in a wide number of convenient cash denominations and convert that to Consortium credit exchanges."

"How is the exchange rate?" someone asked.

"It favors the Consortium," Lannister admitted. "But prices aren't too bad on the station, so I think it evens out. Food is reasonable."

"Is the food shipped in or produced on site?" was the next question.

"Normally these stations are capable of producing most, but not all of their own food. In our case, we actually have a surplus."

"How so?"

"Full capacity is around fifty thousand. We have around ten thousand currently. Eight thousand native people, about a thousand and half original Consortium citizens who have stayed on, and less than five hundred Americans. That's twenty-percent capacity, but the agricultural sector is still running full capacity. If anyone is curious, we have tours available."

"What are they like, the food production facilities, that is?" was the next question.

"Be prepared for a shock," Lannister said with a laugh. "There are a few crops they grow hydroponically, and it looks pretty space age, but the majority of those levels—we have several agricultural levels by the way—are open courts like this, but with a heavy layer of compost and soil on the floor. They look like a farm. We even have a small amount of livestock: chickens, ducks, rabbit, and goats mostly."

"Now that I gotta see," a younger woman commented.

"What about people wanting to stay longer than a day?" a man ventured. "Or even live up here?"

"I'm glad you asked," Lannister said. He was grateful that Jack and Peeta had groomed him for this interview. "For visitors wanting to spend the night, there are many hotels. The best, by far, are right above our head. There are several to choose from along the rimward edge of 16 below, with balcony views looking down onto the surface. It's breathtaking. There are also several luxury hotels on 16 above, looking up at the stars. More affordable accommodations are available scattered throughout the station.

"Those wanting to the travel in the Consortium, the State Department is adding a significant number of workers to their offices up here. A visa is not necessary, but you will have to show a valid US passport to access the spaceports on 17 above, and to exit the spaceport again when you return."

"What about living up here? Is that allowed?" a man asked at the edge of the crowd. He was casually dressed with a bag over one shoulder. Lannister had the suspicion he wasn't press, but rather someone looking to stay.

"Of course, that is easily arranged. We have a huge number of entry-level jobs at decent pay, especially by American standards," Lannister said. "The opening of the hotels on the lower levels alone have created several hundred new housekeeping, cooking, and basic service jobs. Agriculture can always use workers."

"So we can do service jobs up here?" another man sneered. "But what about technical jobs? Running this station? It's our station now, right?"

Lannister groaned, but Jack had prepped him for this as well. "Right now, we don't have the knowledge or training for most of the technical positions on the station; however, our education department has opened a basic education facility designed to help adults get up to speed on Consortium technology and education. They are helping people to discover where their current knowledge base fits with the Consortium educational system, providing remedial education and even helping people get into higher education within the Consortium. Hopefully, in a matter of years, we will have Americans trained to be technical crew, pilots, space walkers, you name it."

Lannister ended the interview but stayed around, answering questions one on one. The young woman who'd expressed an interest in seeing the livestock was with an animal-rights group. He directed her to where she could get a tour of the agricultural facility and assured her they had nothing to hide. He was confident she'd have to admit as much—the bulk of the Consortium diet was grains and vegetables. The farms and animals were kept as much to provide people in contact with nature—school kids visited and worked the farms as part of their schooling, and the animals were treated more like pets than livestock.

The man with the backpack slung over his shoulder hovered on the edge of a journalist for a while and then approached Lannister. "Umm, you said there were jobs and stuff?"

Lannister smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Indeed. There is an Economics Office who can help you figure out what you want to do, what you are qualified to do, and what's available. The nearest is just a couple levels up, if you want me to direct you."

"Yeah, that'd be great," the man said. Lannister walked him to the nearest local lift and saw him off. Afterward, he wandered the bottom court, thinking the interview and opening day had gone well.

It was nothing like running a military vessel, Lannister reflected, as he watched the court crawling with visitors, shopping at stalls, and checking out the sights. But still he felt a measure of pride in his station.

Then again, thinking of the young man, it wasn't that different. Most of the five hundred or so permanent residents, and many more of the day laborers, were young men and women trying to get ahead in the world. Not so different from the Navy. With that thought in mind, Lannister headed back to his office.