16
The Nova Café was a quaint little establishment on a balcony that overlooked Station Twelve's central corridor. Down below, a young woman went scurrying by with her face hidden by a tablet that she studied intently.
Two dozen round metal tables were spread out across the balcony, most of them unoccupied but some home to men and women who sat staring into their coffee with solemn expressions. Most of the Leyrians opted to stay in their quarters now that they had been refused entry into one of Earth's largest nations. The anti-Leyrian movement had always been vocal, and many people feared that other nations would follow Canada's example. It was a dreary time.
Jack sat at a table in gray cargo pants and a brown jacket, hunched over with his elbow on his placement, his cheek resting in t
