They were still joking with Janda when the door slid open again. This time it was Dan, with a tray of his own. "May I join you?" he asked.
"Of course," Cheyenne said, gesturing him in.
He glanced once at Lana, who was still sitting close to Cheyenne. Cheyenne felt a blush run up her cheek. She wondered, vaguely, if she had enough natural skin on her face for it to show.
I should talk to him about this. He'd understand and maybe he could even help me sort through some of these feelings. If I can find a moment alone, without one of the two healers with me.
"So what have you been up to?" Janda asked as Dan found a seat and opened his tray.
"Talking politics almost all morning," he shuddered.
"We haven't even seen the news yet today," Cheyenne said.
"No wonder you're in a good mood," Dan replied. Cheyenne gave him a look. "That princess of yours sure has her hands full," he said to Janda and Lana.
"She's very capable, if her reputation is to be trusted," Janda said.
"Kamchatcha, right?" Cheyenne said. "More trouble?"
"Some, but that's going nowhere," Dan said. "No, there's been another incident with China, some dissident group called the Falun Gong, or something."
"They asked for help. They only wanted to be allowed to leave China, go into the consortium. Said they feared for their lives," Janda put in. "You can't fault her, or us, for that."
"We don't," Cheyenne said, putting a hand on Janda's arm.
"Any chance of a short term diplomatic end to the conflict are gone, though," Dan said. "And there are people back home, well it's the whole interfering with a sovereign state. Some of the conservatives are really worried about this."
"Good thing mom's sedated," Cheyenne said. "Or she'd be getting herself hyped up on it."
"I don't get it," Lana said. "Of course, I barely have time for our politics, let alone yours. But this whole notion of a sovereign state. I thought that was what the Vatari wars were about eons ago? The whole point of the Consortium was to stop all the little states from fighting, or mistreating their own."
"They haven't been part of the Consortium in over forty thousand years," Janda replied. "And that's assuming Vaishava and his people actually landed here intact, ever set up any sort of system. They don't understand. In time they will. The government is free to do what it wants, yes? But so is the citizen. Somebody must balance the power, make sure the state is not abusing it's authority."
"So the Consortium is like above the government? Do you have a government, like back home."
"Sure, back home and it's democratic," Lana insisted. "In time we'll have the same here."
"You really don't pay attention to politics, do you?" Janda said, surprised. Lana gave him a blank look. "We have it here now." He sounded indignant that she didn't know this. "We're attached to the base ship. The base ship has thirty thousand attached civilians. They live there. Fifteen thousand is a quorum."
"A quorum for what?" Dan asked. Cheyenne watched the back and forth, intrigued.
"For a local council," Janda said. "Any location, geographic or not, that is permanent residence to more than fifteen thousand people has the right to a democratically elected council to assist in governance on their behalf."
"Geographic or not?" Cheyenne asked.
"A long time ago people tried to get around the rules by claiming their ship or station didn't have a fixed location, therefor it wasn't a place. That didn't work, safe to say."
"And what do you mean assist in governance? Does the council have final say? How free are they really?"
"That depends. In space, you have no absolute freedom. Planetside might be different. But in space? If life support engineering says we must do this or everyone will die? You can only argue so much.
"Let me give you an example," he said. "Take this new station they want to build. Right off they will send a tech crew. It's a big station so they will need a lot of people, but it will be ten thousand. They'll be careful and not have quorum."
"Why?"
"Because it's tech. Tech missions are, like, military here. One engineer in charge and he or she won't want to deal with a council and too many different ideas. So they take their own handpicked crew and go build the station."
"Will these workers have rights?"
"Of course. The Consortium's basic human rights extend wherever Simian's go. There are labor rights, too. They will have advocates within their ranks, local democracies back home, but no say in the mission, that's up to the engineers. Once the station is built, more people will come and they have a quorum. The lead team, maybe they'll stay but often they move on to another project, let other members of the tech crew take over the management.
"This new management team will have to listen to the council. On specific technical issues, ones that affect everyone on the station, tech will have final say. Like I say, if life support goes, everyone dies. But the council can hire or fire tech crews, so they usually try to get along.
"Now at first the station might have some contractual obligation. Sarasvat commissioned this station with money from the exploration project and the station must serve as a platform for that exploration. The council can't just decide, hey let's go over there with our station."
Dan laughed. "I can't imagine that."
"You should," Janda said. "Because it happens. Old stations, they've mostly outlived their obligations. Look at Shin. It's been in operation for nearly a million years. It doesn't owe anyone anything. So when this project was announced, they voted to come to the new galaxy."
"You are getting tired, Miss Cheyenne?" Lana asked.
Cheyenne sat her fork down. She'd only eaten a few bites of food, but it had tasted good and that was an improvement. "Yeah, but I'll be fine while you guys eat. Don't rush on my behalf."
"It's your fault," Lana joked, pointing at the two men. "Wearing my patient out with talk of politics." They laughed.
"Actually it's kind of cool," Cheyenne said. "Thinking of a space station just floating around in space, it's own little nation."
######
The next night a few of the Consortium crew put on a concert for the Americans. It was held in the forward bay as well, the only space large enough. Dan wasn't involved in the planning of this event, but went anyway, drawn by curiosity. When he was first recovering from the radiation sickness he would often listen to instrumental music while taking his blue treatment. But he hadn't really explored their music to any extent and he had no clue what to expect.
The first half of the concert was performed primarily by a single older man. He played an instrument that looked something like a sitar, an oversized string instrument, which he played with a bow. The sounds were low and haunting. For a couple of the songs, two women took the stage and danced. It was an intricate, almost erotic display of their limberness and balance. His last piece was a long one, and he was accompanied by a couple of other musicians playing flutes.
After a short break, the stage filled with more than a dozen new musicians. They were led by Runningbear's new girlfriend, Aloka. Dan had always thought of her with terms like mousy, quiet and meek. To see her dressed in a oversized pantaloons, a tight top, with her hair held back in headband, she looked stronger, fiercer. Still he was shocked by the fierceness and energy in her voice as she first called out to the others and then began beating on a drum nearly as big as she was. The beat was driving and fast. The others took up the rhythm on a variety of instruments.
Kavinda appeared to one side, singing in a loud voice something about the ancestors long ago. Dan quickly lost track of it. He shut off his translator collar and simply listened to Kavinda's voice, rising and falling in a language that wasn't the Consortium Dan had been learning. He wondered vaguely what language it was.
When Kavinda's singing stopped, Bakala and Daksha appeared on opposite sides of the bay. The rhythm changed. They rushed each other with a yell and did an extravagant choreographed fight to the beat. Everyone cheered.
When they were done, the rhythm changed again. "Get rid of the chairs. Get rid of the chairs," a couple voices were calling. The audience rose and chairs were pushed to the side. The center space filled up with people dancing. There didn't seem to be any particular moves, just people moving or jumping to the rhythm. It was infectious and Dan found himself dancing along.