Madsen and Jensen were already waiting for them when Cheyenne and her healers arrived at the restaurant that night. Dan and Bakala arrived moments later. They ordered drinks and appetizers as they waited for Kleppie. He came with Kavi in tow at the same time the waiter arrived with a large platter.
"There you are," Madsen said. "Where the hell have you been hiding? Ain't seen hardly hide nor hair of you in three days."
"I was busy," Kleppie said, finding a seat.
"For three days?" Jensen asked.
"Out with it, Kleppie," Cheyenne said. "I can see you have news."
Kleppie gave them a long look and a smile. He placed both hands on the table. "I'm not stupid," he declared.
The entire table erupted in laughter.
"Ain't so sure," Madsen joked.
"I could have told you that, silly," Kavi said, kissing him on his cheek.
"I agree with Kavi," Cheyenne said, looking to Dan for support. "The first day you joined us on missile command, I knew you weren't stupid."
"You'd have never made it to that seat if you were," Dan supplied.
"Yeah, I know. But you know, gunner's school? I wanted it, wanted it bad. But regular school, I didn't do too well. And my school wasn't exactly for rocket scientist either."
Kavi and other healers scrunched their brows, unfamiliar with the saying.
"Okay, so what's changed?"
"He took his education potential exam," Kavi supplied.
"What's that?" Dan asked.
"In the Consortium everyone takes it, sometime during their primary education, usually," Janda explained. "It measures how well you learn, and how you learn. It looks at brain function and personal interests, all sorts of stuff."
"Yeah," Kleppie said. "And it takes three days. But then they rate you according what sort of potential you have for higher education. And I got advanced tech. I don't have the brains to be a healer or the neuro-kinetics to be a pilot, which would have been awesome. But I have the coordination and intelligence to be a deep spacewalker, or to work any of a dozen advanced tech jobs, including building or servicing ships."
"Wow, that's really cool, Kleppie, really cool," Cheyenne said.
"Yeah, but why?" Madsen ventured.
"I'm immigrating," Kleppie said. "No question. I've got three months left in this enlistment period. They gave me a huge stack of remedial education cubes for my slate, so I can learn the language and the basics I need to know. I talked to some woman at the education center about level one space certification. She's got me first on the list when they open that base in the Antarctic."
"Holy shit, you turning Consortium for real?" Madsen spluttered.
"Hell, yes," Kleppie replied. "I always wanted to be an astronaut, a space explorer. Now I can. Why would I turn that opportunity down? Like Tellki said, 'who'd stay at the bottom of a gravity well when the whole universe beckons?' Not me, that's for sure."
"I agree," Janda said.
They talked for awhile longer about Kleppie's plan to immigrate. Madsen and Jensen both planned to return to the navy to stay. Both Dan and Cheyenne demurred and changed the subject when their turn rolled around. Dan, she knew, wanted to go back to his old job but that meant goodbye to Bakala and he was putting that off as long as possible. For Cheyenne, her future was uncertain. It didn't involve a military career, but beyond that, she had no clue. She was so focused on whether her kids would be part of this new life, that she'd given little thought to anything else.
#####
Both the American crew of the Cambridge and the Consortium crew of the Corelean would make the trip to Shoshone Station via civilian space ships. There were two special flights booked for the next day to accommodate both crews and the smattering of base ship dignitaries that would be part of the feast.
The Americans would all be housed together in a hotel near where the banquet would be held. After the feast they could check out of the hotel and take the elevator down to the surface, or stay the night and leave the next day.
Cheyenne was not booked in the hotel and that only served to further her sense of being disconnected from them. Shoshone station had no medical hotels and she would be in medical facility a level down from the banquet hall and the others. There was a hotel next to it that was serviceable, in Lana's word. Something in her tone told Cheyenne it wasn't great but "they'd figure out something better after the banquet." All she could do was to trust Lana and Janda to make those preparations.
As they approached the space port, Cheyenne watched a small team of sailors march by, eyes forward and faces still. They wore the batiked uniforms they had been given for the press conference, weeks ago. Whatever she thought of their politics or their reason for holding these Others at bay, she had to respect their discipline. They held it together until the end.
The majority of the sailors, on the other hand, had the look of men and women coming back from a long shore leave. Most were wearing Consortium style clothes, sporting bags filled with souvenirs and happy faces.
The ship was a short range transit. They entered through a long runway and the interior was long and narrow. It reminded Cheyenne of any of a number of commercial airplanes she'd been on, enough for her to almost forget she was in space. Except for a couple of moments of weightlessness when they broke free of the base ship and a couple more minutes as they made their final docking maneuvers, the two hour trip was uneventful.
After they disembarked, Cheyenne left the others as she and her two healers headed for the healer's station where Cheyenne would be staying. The three of them took a lift down a level and headed for the court.
It was noisy; a worker's court. There were numerous food stands selling noodles, stir fries or other simple dishes. Shops selling toiletries and clothing lined the far wall. Cheyenne couldn't help but wonder if the class of people on the court had something to do with Lana's lack of warm feelings. Despite the egalitarian ideals the Consortium citizens espoused, there were distinction between classes.
There were advanced and advanced tech classes, jobs and positions that require many years of education. On board the Corelean that had included the healers, pilots, data engineers and other high level technicians. They were educated, intelligent and seemingly driven. Lower level technicians and ordinary workers were far more liaise faire. They did their job but lived for their off time. They took life easy and were carefree.
There had been a handful of exceptions. There were a few healers that seemed laid back and care free. Daksha and her entire crew of walkers were advanced tech but bunked with and lived like the workers.
But overall, you could see the distinctions in the way they looked at each other, the way they interacted. Cheyenne caught it in innocent comments, like Bakala teasing Lana over a half glass of wine, or Janda commenting that his latest girlfriend on the station "could surely do better" than restaurant work "if only she put her mind to it."
They were greeted by a hanuman in white at the door to the medical facility. It was small and cramped, with four tanks. Lana inspected the tanks and announced them suitable, another faint praise. Cheyenne did not need a tank session yet, and instead followed the healers next door to check into their hotel.
The hotel was tiny, a narrow lobby with an equally narrow corridor leading back from the court. There were maybe a half dozen rooms on either side. Lana's room was no bigger than most of the rooms on the Corelean. It was just wide enough that Cheyenne could not touch both sides at once. It had a small sink/kitchenette area, a cubicle shower and a sleeping nook at the far end.
"It is only to be close to you, and only for tonight," Lana said as the two of them sat together on the sleeping nook.
The room spiked Cheyenne's anxiety about the day. "System message, Zeta," she said. When Zeta appeared she asked, "any news from Jack?"
"He picked up your mom and kids," Zeta told her. "Their flight will touch down in a few minutes. I'm told that obtaining a land transport to the elevator will take some time. Then the elevator itself takes forty five minutes."
"But they are coming," Cheyenne said, some of her tension easing.
"Yes, they are coming."
"You should rest, we have a few hours," Lana said after Zeta had signed off.
Cheyenne lay on the nook, her head on Lana's lap. Lana stroked her hair. Cheyenne's anxiety was still high. "We'll need to find more spacious accommodations for mom. She can't stay in a room this small. It will give her claustrophobia."
"Of course, whatever you wish," Lana replied. She looked around the room, as if wondering how anyone could feel claustrophobic here.
"I will go look around, if you like," Janda said. He appeared restless, bored. "Find somewhere more suitable." She nodded and he left.
Cheyenne's plan hinged on convincing her mom that living in space wasn't so bad, that it was just as safe and convenient as living on the surface. What she'd seen of the base ship and in holographic feeds of station life had convinced her of that. This room, did not. She needed to show mom the best the station had to offer.
Jack had tried to do some asking around, asking family court judges what they thought of this situation. The results had been mixed. Most felt that Cheyenne had custody and that was that. A few felt grandma had some rights as the current guardian of the children's well being. Some thought Cheyenne was well within her rights to take the children wherever she wanted. A few worried that pulling them from school and the life they knew would not be in their best interest, and that grandma and the father might be able to make that case. The only thing they all agreed on was this; they would not make a firm decision unless they saw the case in court.
That thought filled Cheyenne with dread. How was she supposed to manage court appearances, filings and legal fees while she was trapped up here? How would it look to the judge when she couldn't show up in person to argue her case?