She Bleeds for Us: The Galactic Consortium 3

Chapter 2

With a three-man crew working six-hour shifts, the truck that Jake and his buddies drove ran eighteen hours a day. They cut a large swath of distance in that time. Their route took them on a long sweep of Sub-Saharan Africa, east across Niger and Chad to the edge of Sudan, then north cutting near Egypt. The westward leg was the long stretch, desert lands of southern Libya and Algeria. Finally, southward in a giant arc through Mauritania, a country Jake had never heard of before he had joined the African Administration. They would touch the borders of Senegal and Guinea before arriving back at Bamako base.

This was only the dawning of the second day of their work week, just inside the country of Chad. They were parked, sleeping in the cab, which had four cots, two set near the ceiling and two lower down. Jake was on one of the upper cots. Chatura had slept up here at first but he rolled in his sleep and the second time he'd fallen on Abioya in the middle of the night they had insisted on a change.

Jake rolled over and looked towards the front of cabin. Chatura was already up, sitting in the driver's seat consulting the map system. A pot boiled in the kitchenette, the fragrance of the broth reaching Jake and making his stomach roll.

He sat up. Beneath him Abioya started awake. Seeing it was Jake, not Chatura above him, he shook his head and rolled out of bed. In his boxers, he made for the bathroom.

Chatura looked back. "Spacer's soup," he said with a nod towards the pot. "Should be plenty."

"Great." Jake climbed down. Spacer's soup was a broth. They would add vegetables and dried noodles for the Consortium equivalent of Ramen. But Jake loved Ramen and it worked for him. "Spacer's soup?" He called back towards the bathroom.

"Yes, please," Abioya's voice called back.

Jake pulled three bowls down from a small shelf and added a handful of some local greens and a ball of dried noodles to each. By the time Abioya was out, Jake had three steaming bowls of soup ready.

He took his turn in the bathroom and washing his pits and throwing some clothes on.

When he came out the noodles were soft. Chatura had moved to the co-pilots seat. Abioya was sitting on his cot with a bowl in his hands, blowing on it to cool it.

"So what's the good news?" He asked as he took his bowl and climbed into the driver's seat.

Abioya scowled and Jake knew it wasn't good news.

"They've sent us a new route. Again," Chatura said. He had a display up. "We are no longer going to Sudan. Looking for local news," he said.

"Why?" Abioya groused. "It will be the same as Nigeria."

Abioya was right, it was essentially the same. Sudan and South Sudan had fought a long civil war before the Consortium arrived. Now the government was using the pretext of rebel activity to close the border and bring military forces into the small villages and towns along the border. Everyone knew the truth, the villagers wanted more Consortium contact. They wanted medical help, not just for big plagues but for a thousand minor things. They wanted the agricultural projects like the ones that Jake and his crew supplied to be expanded.

But corrupt government officials all across Africa seemed to have realized too late that Consortium help was a double-edged sword. Every time a Consortium relief crew helped someone, they talked about life in the Consortium. And the poor were no longer content, they wanted that life for themselves.

Their project barely reached Sudan anyway. "So that's two stops off our trip," Jake said.

"And two in Egypt," Chatura replied.

Would they even come this far east if this continued?

"And a warning about our westward trek," Abioya added. "Libya is seeing an upsurge in activity from warlords. And that's not a cover for politics or anything. We are to be 'on high alert' for that drive."

Jake shrugged. He slurped his noodles and reached into the forward mini fridge for a tea. There wasn't much in southern Libya for them to stop and get out of the truck for anyway. He inspected the map while they ate. With their four most eastern stops gone, they now went halfway through Chad and then turned north. "This new route will cut at least a day off our mission," he said.

"We were helping those people," Abioya muttered.

"Yeah," Jake agreed. "I am sure the diplomats will work something out." Abioya's dark eyes didn't agree but he said nothing.

Jake put his empty bowl in the sink in the kitchenette. "For now, I guess we might as well hit the road. He settled into the driver's seat and fired up the truck's engine.