When the World Ends...

Chapter Two | The Dead Man at the Table Landon huffed noisily as another person travelling in the opposite direction struck his shoulder, causing him to stagger backward and the people behind to moan loudly. He pressed on with increasing vigour until he reached the elevator. It could only be accessed by specific personnel and would ascend to Level4. The elevator brought silence and calm, allowing Landon to breathe and relax a little for the first time since leaving the apartment. In the reflection of the lift’s interior he readjusted his shirt so that it was once again neatly tucked into his jeans and then flicked a few strands of hair about until it was styled just right. He hadn’t shaved for a few days and his stubble was looking a bit awry. He wiped his hands down the sides of his face to try and get the short hairs to follow the same direction. Once satisfied he then took a step back and, pleased with his appearance, waited for the elevator to arrive. The doors were slow to open as always. They let him out into a quiet room that was little bigger than his bedroom on Level3. Two security personnel stood guarding a glass door which slid sideways once Landon had put his keycard into the identification slot. Once accepted, the small passageway beyond stretched the entire length of the space station. Lights were placed at intervals at floor-level to illuminate the way, casting their beams upward onto the parallel white walls to fully enlighten the corridor. It was adorned with an extravagant glass ceiling that looked up at nothing but the darkness of space and the billions of stars that winked and glimmered brightly. Despite the amazing view and the surreal sensation of drifting in space that the glass ceiling enticed, it was Landon’s least favourite part of his journey to work. The rooms in which he worked were at the end of the ship farthest from the elevator that he used. He could have walked along the corridor on Level3 and taken a lift up to those very rooms but it would have taken much longer due to the volume of people below. At least this passageway was almost empty. The only people that Landon ever saw were those that came out of one room only to enter another as they went about their daily business. ‘Morning!’ Landon chimed fifteen minutes later as he strode boldly into his office, which was empty. The only thing there to greet him was the Office Central Operating System which didn’t even respond. ‘Damn solar flare’ Landon cursed, walking to the control panel and resetting OCOS’s system. He went from his office into the adjoining main room that served as the Joint Centre for Space Flight Operations and Population Relocation; the department of which Landon was in charge. It was run by twenty-or-so employees, all working on different aspects of the job that contributed to the efficient running of the Space Flight Programme and the transportation of humans between Earth, the ISS and MoonBase1. ‘What’ve we got this morning?’ Landon asked as he strode into the busy room. People seemed to be constantly moving about and there was perpetual chatter like background noise as workers communicated with the Spheres on Earth. ‘We’ve got five Sphere requests for a population shift’ a man nearest to where Landon was standing announced. ‘They’re complaining that the system is growing stale, there hasn’t been movement for three weeks now’. ‘Decline their requests’. ‘But sir-’ ‘Decline them’ Landon insisted. ‘Space is limited; the ISS is at full capacity and MoonBase1 is still working to accommodate more people’. ‘We can just have them transferred directly to MoonBase1’ the man replied, clearly appearing to do his best in the presence of the person who was still on the communication line to Earth. ‘The journey is too long and the conditions on the space craft are too cramped, you’re talking about having at least one hundred people die in transit’ Landon explained before his tone shifted to a more authoritative, conflictive pitch. ‘There is a reason as to why we use the ISS as a half-way stage; you’d do better by your job to remember that’. ‘Sir’ a woman came rushing over to his side having sensed that his conversation with the other man was over. ‘You have a meeting with the Board of Officials at nine o’clock’. Landon glanced down at his wristwatch which showed it was eight forty five. ‘Prepare my office for the video conference’ he told her, adjusting the tightness of his watchstrap so that Aleka, his personal assistant, might notice. ‘Yes sir’ Aleka said, heading off towards his office without even so much as glancing at his watch. ‘SpaceSite UK have reported that they have a stock of fifty antimatter power cells’ a different person called out from across the room where they were sat at a desk. Irritated at having to move, Landon made his way across the office to the man who had spoken. ‘Tell them to have the stocks sent up’ Landon commanded. He was about to walk away when the man spoke again. ‘They have no Craft, sir’ he said. ‘All space transportation vessels are either here in the ISS Docking Bay or at MoonBase1’. ‘Send a Craft to pick up the stock then’ Landon replied impatiently. ‘SpaceSite UK employees will want to come too’ the man explained. ‘If we take the remaining stock then there will be no point in them remaining on Earth’. ‘Have them transferred to a Sphere’ Landon ordered. ‘But Sir, they’ve served their duty. They deserve to be retrieved from Earth’. ‘They deserve to wait in the Sphere’s like everyone else’ Landon told him sternly growing increasingly frustrated with the young man. ‘Send a Craft to pick up the remaining supplies’. Before the man could protest further and anyone else could pester him, Landon quickly returned to his office and sat down behind his desk. Aleka had propped up his Tablet so that the touch screen faced him vertically. He spent a few minutes browsing the news from both MoonBase1 and the ISS before launching the visual network that would enable him to speak with the Boards of Officials. As soon as the clock reached nine the screen was divided into two. The bottom half was filled with his own image while the top half took a few moments to appear. When it did, Landon was met by the sight of five men seated along a table. Each appeared relatively relaxed and had a name plaque in front of them, even though Landon knew who each person was. ‘Good morning, Mr Corbett’ the man at the centre of the table bade him. His name was Cadmar Davies and he was the President of MoonBase1. Seated to his right was the Premier of the ISS; Guy Lloyd, who was on an official visit to the facility on the Moon. The man next to Guy was his P.A, a young nerdy-looking man by the name of Leo Burn. The man on Cadmar’s left, Takeshi Sato, was responsible for overseeing the development of external-Earth facilities such as MoonBase1, the ISS and the collated space hotels. The last man at the end of the table was a stand in representative for those living on Earth; a thorn in the side of the Board’s member’s who went by the name of Langley Reid.