Shoshone Station: The Galactic Consortium season 2

Episode Six: Africa #12

By the fifth day of training, Jake and a few others were already practicing on real trucks. The morning of the sixth day, they were ordered to fall in with a handful of veterans. Indira, the quartermaster, the man Jake had always thought of as the drill sergeant, addressed them. "We've a bit of a situation, and we're shy on drivers. So I'm offering some of you trainees a chance at a real mission. We received word of a cholera outbreak just to the south of us in Guinea, along the Niger River. One of the evac ships has already gone, and they are treating patients as we speak. For those of you who aren't aware, cholera is a waterborne disease. Treating patients isn't enough; we need to treat the water."

He paused, and Jake took the opportunity to glance over at the edge of the base. Sure enough, only one of the giant evac ships now stood there.

"So we need to haul water purification tanks down there. It's about a six-hour drive, so it'll be a full shift one way. Now, you veterans are on response team; you know what you signed up for. Trainees, we will only take volunteers. It'll mean driving all day and spending the night. There will be a camp set for you. Then we will return the next day. If that doesn't put you off, let me know right away. I want this convoy on the way before the watch is out."

Jake turned to his fellow trainees, and he could tell at once they all wanted to go. Helvig had said she came here to do exactly that sort of work. Chatura was always looking for something new. Abioya was smiling and nodding his head. Jake just shrugged. Driving simulators was boring. Another day of driving a training track was bearable, but hardly what he considered fun. "Let's do it," he said. Helvig cheered.

They were each paired with a veteran driver. They found their trucks and drove them to a large bunker toward the back of the base. A team of workers waited for them there with the water purification units. Each unit was a cylinder of glass taller than Jake and about seven feet wide. A white material he could not identify was at the top and the base of each unit. Each unit had two hoses: one for water going in and one for water coming out. The glass tank within was divided and served as a distiller. They had been told just about any water could go in there, regardless of the contaminant, and fresh drinking water would come out the other side.

There was a miniature crane built into the trucks, and the crew used it to hoist almost a dozen purifying units onto each truck. A Consortium watch was around an hour and a half, and it took nearly all of that to load six trucks.

Jake was paired with a grizzled old man. He had Jake drive the first stretch, "so I can see how you do." He carried an oversized thermos of tea. He drank his tea and talked, half to himself and half to Jake, as they drove. Jake divided his attention between the digital map on the screen and the road in front of them. But soon he relaxed, and it felt no different than driving his truck back home. His stress and his concerns faded as he drove.

His partner was named Harrish. It came out in conversation that he was a terraformer. He was certified for harsh environments, and that was his preference. He'd been on Mars until just a few weeks ago; apparently, that project had too many workers and not enough to do. The African administration was struggling with the exact opposite—not enough skilled workers to complete all the projects they had on their plate. "Glad to see so many people in training," he said. "Get back to Mars in few weeks, I hope."

"I can't imagine working in a harsh environment like that could be preferable to this," Jake commented.

Harrish pointed at a passing village, several young children out watching the trucks go by. "Ain't no kids to get run over on a barren planet," he said. "Besides, the pay is better."

The majority of the trip they drove through a dry savanna, a land of bushy grass and low trees that wasn't quite a desert. At the border into Guinea, they were simply waved through. Northern Guinea was identical to Mali; however, as they dipped farther south, trees and forests grew up around them. The site of the cholera outbreak was just north of a large national park, and the landscape around them fulfilled Jake's idea of wild Africa—dense jungles filled with monkeys and other strange animals.

The quartermaster was waiting for them when they arrived, having come ahead on a hopper. "We've got tents set up at a base camp for all of you. I've got to get these purification tanks set and operational before you can head back. If anybody would like a little overtime, I'd sure appreciate the help."

"And some of us might appreciate the extra cash," Jake's partner commented. "Especially when all we've done all day was ride in the truck."

"Driving is relaxing for me," Jake said. "I'd be happy to help." It was true; the long drive invigorated more than exhausted him. They were joined by Chatura, Abioya, and a female engineer who introduced herself as Sarah.

They all piled into the truck that Jake had driven down and headed off along the new route along the river. They stopped at a small village, and Sarah was greeted by a Consortium healer. The two talked for a while, and then Sarah came back and announced they needed two tanks.

Jake stepped out of the truck and looked around the village. This was what he had expected of Africa, mud houses with thatched roofs. Children watched him cautiously. One was wearing a Western T-shirt with a band logo on it that Jake recognized. He smirked. So much for wild.

These thoughts were lost as Sarah ordered him to approach. He worked the controls on a smaller crane lift built into the truck. He hoisted one of the tanks off, and with his bunkmate's help, guided it down to a level spot while Sarah directed them. Once she had it in place, it only took her a few minutes to set it up. Chatura dragged one hose over to the river and fed it in. Sarah called some of the villagers over as water began to fill the first tank. She explained how to retrieve the water from the second pipe and how they could attach a hose to that one, too, if they wanted to extend the reach of the water.

The water that was rapidly filling the first side of the cylinder was dark and murky, filled with sediment. The water slowly dripping into the second tank was clear.

Before long, Jake was back in the truck, pulling it around to the other side of the village so they could place the second tank. And then they were off for the next village. To his surprise, this village had houses of wooden clapboard and tin roofs that looked nothing like his image of Africa. I suppose it's not unlike people coming to Wyoming, expecting it all to be cowboys and Indians, he reflected.

It was late evening and the sun was setting before they had completed their rounds of villages and unloaded every tank. Most, if not all, of the drivers had chosen to work extra, and it was a good thing they had. Even with all of them working and a handful of engineers, they'd only unloaded about half the trucks. They would divide up the next day, the quartermaster told them; he would send most of the trainees back with empty trucks. The veterans would finish unloading in the morning and then head back later in the day.

They had a big meal, and then they all headed for their tents. The long day was starting to catch up with Jake. He lay on his cot and listened to the sounds of the forest around them. His mind drifted to his younger brother, Mike. He'd be so excited at the thought of being in an African jungle. Jake imagined telling him about it, and it made him homesick.