Shoshone Station #3: The Egg: The Galactic Consortium, #12

By R. J. Eliason

Sophia’s first day as liaison for the new medical wing starts out exciting, they have rescued a premature infant from the surface. But its new home, the bio-medical egg, sparks conflict between the healer, Bankim and Zeta, the diplomat.

Shoshone Station: 

Less than a year ago, they arrived over earth’s sky. They call themselves the Galactic Consortium and they are human, or at least, simian — from the same genetic line as humans. They claim to have terraformed this planet centuries ago to serve as a base for their exploration of this galaxy. What happened to the settlers, why none of us remember this, remains a mystery. 

For America the concerns are more immediate. Will the Consortium accept our independence?

Shoshone Station is the first joint enterprise, a solar power, space station parked in geostationary orbit over Denver, Colorado. Its been “gifted” to America, but as Sherman Lannister takes command he wonders just how much control the new American crew will really have. After all, what do they know about running a space station?

For Sophia, a homeless transgender youth from Denver, and many like her the station is a second chance at a new life. But what will she do living amongst the stars? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: R. J. Eliason
• Release date: Mar 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9781540140074

R. J. Eliason

R. J. Eliason writes immersive science fiction and fantasy stories that feature diverse characters. Her writing spans many sub-genres from alien contact, apocalyptic stories and epic fantasy. She also writes in a wide variety of formats, from full length novels to an ongoing serialized adventure. Her writing can be found in digital and print formats anywhere online that books are sold. Or check out her website at rj.eliason.com and sign up for a free book. 

Book preview

The Egg

Chapter 1

Matt Huskins pulled his collar up and his stocking cap down to block the worst of the wind. His coat had an emblem on the shoulder, marking him as hospital security. It was a heavy winter coat, but the shrill Colorado wind still cut through it, causing him to shiver as he stepped outside.  

The night was dark and, despite the fierce winds, clear. The stars shone bright above him as he stepped away from the hospital.  

Matt loved Colorado, loved living in the mountains. Had dreamt of it since visiting on vacation as a kid. But there were drawbacks. Cold winter nights being one. A small local hospital without a lot of resources being another.  

He stopped at the breaker box and flipped the switch, turning on the guidance lights around the helicopter pad. He stood on the edge of the pad, shivering despite his heavy coat, gloves, and hat. He stared up at the night sky, his breath hanging in clouds. 

No helicopter could fly in this wind. They’d get dashed against the side of a mountain for sure. They had to put the call out anyway, even with no hope of life flight response. A young mother, too young in Matt’s opinion, in premature labor, and they had no neonatal intensive care. If even the big hospitals in Denver were a hope, the infant was barely twenty weeks; it would be the youngest to survive ever, if it made it. More likely it would be a late gestation miscarriage instead. He shuddered, and suddenly being out here in the cold was better than being inside with the family. 

His radio crackled to life. Dispatch to 107. 

This is Matt.  

Response is on the way. Orbital hopper via the station. 

The station? Hope blossomed in his chest. The station? 

Roger. Landing in ten minutes. 

But, can they? 

They say the pad should be sufficient. Patching you through now.  

There was more noise and then, Commander Shir, piloting hopper 401. Hey, who’s this? 

Matt, Matt Huskins.  

Good evening, Matt. I’ve a healer and an egg to deliver to you guys. 

A man stepped outside of the hospital, walked to the edge of the pad, and lit a cigarette. Matt recognized the grandfather, looking haggard. 

Matt, Shir said over his radio. Look up at the sky, northwest corner. We’re gonna burn some atmosphere to get to you. He looked up. There was a glint and then a long streak blazing through the night sky. 

Wish upon a star, eh? the grandfather said as he came to stand by Matt and watch the star. 

Gonna get your wish too, sir, Matt said. That’s no star. It’s a spaceship. From Shoshone Station. They’re sending a healer.  

We’re dropping as fast as possible, Shir said in his ear. Soon I’ll have to brake our speed. You’ll see a red flare from our boosters, and we’ll disappear for a time. Then we’ll be on ground. Okay? 

Roger, I mean, okay, Matt replied. To the man next to him, ‘Did you catch that?"  

They watched, and Matt thought he could see a tiny red flash just as the shooting star faded.  

Man, who would have thought, the grandfather said. Last year, when we saw those lights, we were all so scared. Now I’m praying for them to get here fast.  

Matt chuckled. Know what you mean. They introduced themselves. A few minutes later, headlights flashed over the nearest range, and the hopper came coasting in toward them. 

Dispatch, Matt called into his radio. Our response is in sight.  

Good. We’re in a code pink now. Dispatch was tight lipped, even through the radio.  

Matt glanced at Kevin, the older man. Did he know code pink was code for an emergency with a baby, that his grandkid had been born and the medical team was fighting to save it? Should he try to explain? Suggest the man go back inside? 

There was no time. The hopper hovered in air above them and dropped with a thud on the helipad. The heat coming off its hull washed over Matt, and the hatch hissed as the seal broke and it came open. 

A woman in a tight-fitting, white jumpsuit stumbled down and nearly fell on the ground. Damn it, Shir, she barked back into the cabin. I ain’t ever riding with you again. That was the craziest landing I’ve ever had. 

You said to get down fast. I got down fast. Shir’s voice sounded chipper.  

A man in white was out next, a white oval object tucked under his arm like a football. He addressed the two of them. I am Bankim, healer. He gave his counterpart a stern look. Katja, come, this is no time.  

Matt nodded and led the two healers back toward the hospital. 

Just them damn missile pilots, Katja muttered, joining them. Hot shots, all of them.  

Nonetheless, we did specify as fast as possible, Bankim replied without looking back.  

They barreled through the doors to the ER and into the main trauma bay. Our emergency responders from Shoshone Station, Matt declared over the chaos of the scene.  

Just when he was sure no one had heard, a nurse said. What do you want us to do? Three nurses were crowded around a small cradle; the hospital was too small to even have a proper incubator. They all looked up expectantly. They had been doing CPR on what looked to Matt like an impossibly small form.  

Katja slid in between them. Let me. Oh, by the mother. It’s so tiny.  

Bankim had set the oval object on a counter and turned it with his hand. Matt noticed for the first time a small window that popped open in Bankim’s hand. We must get it back into a womb-like environment. You women can coo over it later.  

Katja came past Matt, carrying the tiny form and laying it gently in the device. Liquid began to fill the interior, and the two healers worked, attaching things to the form, though Matt could not comprehend what exactly they were doing. The hatch slid shut as their hands came out, and a display on the thicker end of the device came to light. Portions glowed in blue,