2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light) Read Free

passage that connected Archimedes to the International Space Station. Turning off his mag-boots, he floated through a slowing rotating tunnel with white corrugated walls and moved from partial gravity to the microgravity environment aboard the aging ISS, where he was greeted by a party of two.
    ‘Welcome aboard the ISS, Commander,’ said a man, his accent Russian and smile broad. ‘My name’s Alexei Denisov and this is Astrid-Hélène Pichon.’
    Tyler grunted in response.
    ‘Is there something wrong, sir?’ the man’s companion said, her Gallic lilt and genuine concern bringing him out of his internal stupor.
    ‘No, I’m fine. My apologies. Bad day.’
    The two ISS astronauts exchanged a look, perhaps having heard about the goings-on aboard Archimedes.
    ‘Are you here to take me to the auditorium?’ he said, as he shook hands with each in turn.
    The French woman, Astrid-Hélène, gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘Your comrades are already assembled, as is everyone else. Follow me, Commander.’ She turned and floated off down a corridor.
    With the Russian following behind, Tyler was led through a maze of interconnecting modules and hatches until they came to the hub of the International Space Station, the central node, commonly known as the auditorium . The largest space module ever built, prefabricated on the surface and assembled in space, was a sight to behold. Comprising a flat floor and ceiling, the connecting walls curved outwards, the convex design, if viewed from the outside, appearing like a giant, slightly angular, holeless donut. As Tyler’s guide had said, everyone else from all four space stations had already arrived, leaving only skeleton crews behind to manage critical systems.
    The babble of noise from the ranks of the planet’s finest was an assault on the senses. The quiet calm of life in space and everything that entailed meant gatherings such as this were unheard of. Over a hundred people in one place, in space … even twenty years ago this would have seemed an impossibility, but with the world’s resources channelled into the GMRC’s divisions on an unprecedented scale, the Space Programme had benefited like no other – at least, it had initially.
    Tyler took his place in a seat built into the wall, loose straps over his shoulders ensuring he didn’t float away, and his reception committee, the French woman and Russian, sat down either side of him.
    A sweeping window stretched around half the auditorium and Tyler could see the ISS docking ports outside, where two large Sabre transportation crafts had berthed the previous day; emblazoned on their sides was the stark, white lettering of the GMRC’s logo:
     

     
    Astrid, following his gaze, touched his knee and leaned closer to him. ‘Don’t worry, Commander, I hear the GMRC are leaving us.’
    ‘Some say for good,’ Alexei said.
    Tyler glanced at the Russian and then turned back to Astrid, whose bright blue eyes twinkled with compassionate intelligence.
    ‘Things will get better now, yes?’ She winked and gave his leg a squeeze before removing her hand and returning her attention forward, where a large wallscreen shimmered into life.
    Tyler gazed at her for a moment before looking, along with everyone else, at the image now on display. A crystal clear picture of NASA’s Control Center, complete with the familiar circular insignia on the wall, filled his vision. Lined up in front of this stood thirty people, wearing a mixture of civilian and military uniforms from various nations, and at their head stood five men. The central figure was NASA’s chief administrator, James Davis Jackson, the highest ranking official for the civilian agency. Resplendent in a deep blue flight suit adorned with various emblematic patches, he stepped forwards to survey the astronauts before him as if they were in the same room, not separated by thousands of miles and the vastness of space.
    ‘My friends, thank you for taking the time out of your busy