Shoshone Station: The Galactic Consortium season 2

Episode Six: Africa #18

"Well, this is it," Jake said. The three of them stood in front of their bunks, bags over their shoulders. Jake was dressed in jeans and T-shirt under his civil-service jacket. Chatura was dressed in his civilian clothes too. Only Abioya wore his uniform.

"Working today?" Chatura asked.

"Half day," Abioya said. "Going with some healers to a clinic in Western Nigeria. Going by hopper, so it won't take but an hour. Unload some supplies, and I can leave. Be about another five, six hours home. But it beats twenty."

"That is does," Jake agreed, taking his hand. "Good luck."

"And see you both next week," Abioya said.

"If you're coming, let's get a move on," a healer called as they went past. Abioya bowed to Chatura and then took off after the healer.

"I was so homesick the first week here," Jake admitted as he and Chatura headed toward the front of the base to take the tram into town and to the surface base for Bamako Station. "Now I think I'm going to miss it."

"I was excited. Such an adventure," Chatura said. "But now I'm homesick. Missing my little sister. Missing Mom, Dad. Shin." He paused and reflected. "A week at home might fix that."

Jake thought of their tiny trailer on the edge of Casper, Wyoming, and laughed. "That it might."

The tram into town was nearly empty this time of day. It was timed for those coming down from the station, not for those going up, so they had to wait nearly an hour for the next elevator. They crossed the street outside the station and shopped the local market, picking up a couple souvenirs each.

He and Chatura parted ways at the top of the station. Chatura was headed for the European Station, which had regular flights to Shin. Jake boarded a flight for Shoshone and settled back for the six-hour flight.

It had been eight in the morning when he left Africa, but with the six-hour flight and the seven-hour time difference, it was nine at night when arrived in Colorado. He grabbed a couple bottles of iced tea for the ride home and took the elevator down to the surface.

At the money exchange booth, he turned almost all of his credits into US currency. He was pleasantly surprised by the stack of bills pushed across to him. He smiled and shoved them into his jacket pocket.

His pickup growled in the cold parking lot, but started. After nearly three weeks on Consortium trucks, the pickup seemed small, cramped, and loud. The climate felt bone-chilling cold. He zipped his jacket up and drove, stopping only for gas.

The trailer was dark and quiet when he arrived, but it was late. Mom's car was in the drive. He checked his phone for the time, but it was dead. He checked the slate: just after midnight local time.

He let himself in and then, not wanting to wake his brother, lay down on the couch in his clothes. He huddled in his jacket against the cold and fell asleep quickly.

He woke with his kid brother, Mike, throwing himself on top of him. "Jake!"

"Oof," he said and tried to roll without throwing the boy off. He hugged him back. He looked up to find his mom and sisters watching him.

"We were going to let you sleep," Mom said. "But Mike had other plans." She was smiling, her eyes wet.

He gave her a sheepish smile. "It's okay. I shouldn't waste my whole time off sleeping." He stood and stretched.

"Time off?"

"I told you I had a job," he said.

"Come on, let's get breakfast and you can tell us all about it," Mom said. She headed for the kitchen.

Mike tugged at Jake's jacket. "That looks like one of their jackets. Like you see on TV and all."

Jake didn't have to ask who "they" were. "It is one of theirs, actually," he replied. "Civil service."

They all gathered around the table. Mom set a box of cereal in front of him. He smiled and then thought of their fight, the day after Christmas. He handed the box to Mike and fished in his jacket. "For you," he said, throwing a stack of bills in front of his mom.

Her eyes went wide. She picked the stack up and riffled through it. "I can't take this, Jake," she said. And then, "Where did you get this much?"

He pulled on the lapel of his jacket and pointed at the badge in the shape of Africa. "African Administration. Civil service. Don't worry. There's plenty more. They pay well." It was a half-truth. They did pay well. There would be more. But this time he'd given her nearly all he'd made. But what did he need it for, really? He had enough to get back, and the base provided food and lodging.

"Are you sure?"

"Serious, Mom. Pay up the bills. Get the kids some new stuff. You too."

"You were in Africa?" his youngest sister asked, her voice hushed and awed.

"Yeah, driving a truck. It's not a bad job."

"But you could get Ebola or something," she warned.

He thought of the archway and the healer. "Oh, I've already had it." He laughed at her shocked look. "It's nothing. They can treat it." He rose and went for his bag. He fished out his souvenirs and passed them out. He started talking while they ate, telling them about the base, the truck he drove, and his new crew.

"A Hanuman? For real?" Mike said when Jake mentioned Chatura.

"Yeah, sure. He talks almost as much as you," Jake teased. "Makes me a little less homesick."

"How long do you have off?" Mom asked.

"A week. Well, five days, I guess. It's about a ten-hour trip. Four to Shoshone and six to Bamako Station. So subtract a day for travel. Still. My new schedule will be a week on, a week off. That way I can work, but still be home to help out around the house on my off week."