Episode Six: Africa #3

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  Jake gave no conscious thought about his destination until he pulled into the parking lot at Shoshone Station. It was often like that when he drove. Everything else just faded away.

He knew, or thought he knew, why his dad loved driving the truck. And even why he'd left. It was like, when he was on the road, he left every concern behind.

Now he shut the truck down and stared at the tall pole reaching to the stars. They have jobs, don't they? That was what had drawn him on a four-hour drive south. There was only one way to find out.

He climbed out of the truck, and hunger pains hit him again. Those too had faded as he drove. He did his best to ignore them. If this turned out to be a bust, he'd need his money to get gas to get home. The only good thing about these newcomers, he groused to himself. They'd crashed our economy, but at least gas is cheap. Electric vehicles, American or Consortium, were still not common, but there were enough to reduce demand for oil, and gas prices were at their lowest in nearly fifty years.

Passage through the surface gate was fast and easy. He showed his driver's license and joined the line of people heading in. If he couldn't find a job on the station, he would drive downtown somewhere and find a homeless shelter. Stay in Denver, figure out a new life. At least he wouldn't be a burden to his mother.

It was evening, and the elevator going up was only about half full, but when it opened at the surface, there was a huge crowd waiting to go back down.

"The shops and restaurants on the eastern side of the station offer an incredible view of the eastern half of the United States as the sun sets," the elevator operator prompted as people started to pour out. "The western side, unfortunately, will have most of the glass shielded due to the light coming in from the setting sun."

Jake was too tired and hungry to care about that. "Where does one go to find out about jobs?" he asked her.

"Next level up, Economics Office," was the reply. As he stepped out on the next level, she added, "First hall on the right, straight down on your left."

He called out a belated thanks as the elevator door slid shut. He headed down the hall, repeating the directions in his mind. The office was only a few minutes from closing for the day, but an older Hanuman woman ushered him into her office anyway.

He'd never met a Hanuman in person, and he tried not to stare. She spoke the melodious language of the Consortium and a translator collar at her neck provided English. "How can I assist you today?"

Now that he was here, he felt shy, uncertain. But it was too late to back out now. Once he started speaking, words just started to come out in a rush—how we'd struggled to find a job on the surface for months and was desperate, willing to do anything.

"I've heard a dozen similar stories," she told him as he wound down. "I'm happy to help you find something. But let's see if we can do better than anything. What is it you want to do with your life?"

Jake shrugged. "Not really sure. I guess I don't even know what's available."

"You shouldn't have this attitude," she chided him gently. "We've many things, even at entry-level. And more if you're willing to train. What are your interests? What things make you happy?"

Jake shrugged again. "I like driving, I guess. You guys don't seem too fond of our cars. And I don't suppose there is much call for that on a space station."

"It's not your cars, only the way you fuel them. Back on Cetus, I had a vehicle too. But you're right, there's not much call for them on a station this size. We do have transports up at the spaceport and one on loan to the medical wing. But I don't have any driver positions here."

"That's okay," he said. "I'll take whatever."

"How does Bamako sound?"

"What is that?"

She laughed. "Not what. Where. Bamako Station. African administration. They've lots of driver positions. Good pay too. I can get you into a training camp as early as tomorrow."

He stared at her for a long time, trying to judge if she was serious or not. "You mean go to Africa?"

"Sure, why not? I can get you on a hopper first thing in the morning. If you're staying for a job, we can start your bank. They give you a little bit to start with, a quarter of a credit just to ease the transition. That's more than enough for a cheap hotel and breakfast."

"And tomorrow? I just go to Africa?"

"The administration training camp is pretty much self-contained. You'll stay on barracks for your training. You'll have food and housing provided." She pulled up a holo display of a large truck with heavy knob tires that looked like they could churn through just about any terrain. "You will train on simulators at the base. But once you've mastered the basics—and they aren't rocket science, as you say—then you'll be driving something like this. You'll be delivering supplies to the relief efforts around Africa."

Jake stared at the truck, and he couldn't help but like what he saw. "Yeah, I could do that."

"Good. Let's wrap up the details here, and then I'll start your bank. On my way home, I'll see you to a court upstairs, where you can find food and lodging for the night." 

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