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    What Lurks Between
    What Lurks Between
    What Lurks Between
    Ebook103 pages1 hour

    What Lurks Between

    By Michael Kingswood

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    About this ebook

    From a place beyond reality, it comes to consume the world.

    For Barry, getting a transfer to a new position as an electrician aboard the Ketcham Space Station summed up his professional life perfectly: just one dead-end job after another.  Little did he know that job put the fate of the world in his hands.

    Waking up at home with no memory of how he got back from the Station, Barry soon finds that he brought something back with him.  Something hungry.   Now he has to stop it.  Somehow. 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSSN Storytelling
    Release dateNov 13, 2013
    ISBN9781513001678
    What Lurks Between
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    Author

    Michael Kingswood

    Michael Kingswood has written numerous science fiction and fantasy stories, including The Pericles Conspiracy, The Glimmer Vale Chronicles, and the Dawn of Enlightenment series. His interest in scifi/fantasy came at an early age: he first saw Star Wars in the theater when he was three and grew up on Star Trek in syndication. The Hobbit was among the first books he recalls reading. Recognizing with sadness that the odds of his making it into outer space were relatively slim, after completing his bachelors degree in Mechanical Engineering from Boston University, he did the next best thing - he entered the US Navy as a submarine officer. Almost seventeen years later, he continues to serve on active duty and has earned graduation degrees in Engineering Management and Business Administration. Fitting with his service onboard Fast Attack submarines (SSNs), he does his writing on Saturdays, Sundays, and at Night. He is married to a lovely lady from Maine. They have four children, and live wherever the Navy deems to send them. Sign up to receive email announcements of Michael's new releases and other exclusive deals for newsletter subscribers here: http://eepurl.com/eND22 .

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      Book preview

      What Lurks Between - Michael Kingswood

      What Lurks Between

      What Lurks Between

      Michael Kingswood

      SSN Storytelling

      Contents

      About This Book

      What Lurks Between

      Message From The Author

      Mailing List

      Supporting Patronage

      About The Author

      More Books By Michael Kingswood

      About This Book

      From a place beyond reality, it comes to consume the world.

      For Barry, getting a transfer to a new position as an electrician aboard the Ketcham Space Station summed up his professional life perfectly: just one dead-end job after another.  Little did he know that job put the fate of the world in his hands.

      Waking up at home with no memory of how he got back from the Station, Barry soon finds that he brought something back with him.  Something hungry.   Now he has to stop it.  Somehow.

      Enjoy the book! After you’re done, please come to Michael’s website and sign up for his mailing list. Guaranteed to be spam free, he uses it to announce new releases and special promotions for his fans.

      What Lurks Between

      It came from outer space.

      Well...sort of.

      It actually came out of my lunchbox. But I brought my lunchbox into outer space that day, and trust me, it was not in that lunchbox before I went up. That's how come I can say it came from outer space.

      What was it? Long story, but it starts simply enough.

      So there I was, and this is a no shi-- Erm...sorry. That's the Navy in me coming out. But trust me, this really happened. Really.

      Like I said, it started out as just another day on the job...

      Barry!

      I turned away from my locker to see Clark Haberman, the very last person I wanted to deal with, walking toward me. As usual, he wore his light-gray work coveralls, cinched at the waist with a black web belt that supported a number of tool pouches, and a scowl on his weathered face. Christ, what had I done now? I couldn't think of anything I'd screwed up lately, but Clark never got that look except when something had gone seriously wrong.

      Yeah, boss, I said, inwardly wincing as I anticipated the diatribe to come. I was amazed when it never did.

      You've been reassigned.

      I blinked.

      You hear what I said? You're not working here anymore.

      So that's how it was. I sighed and lowered my eyes. I had been fired before, lots of times, but at least the other bosses didn't screw around trying to make nice about it. We don't need you anymore. You messed up one too many things. Get lost, loser. I had heard them all. But never reassignment. That was rich.

      I let out a bitter laugh before I was able to catch myself. From the corner of my eye, I saw Clark's eyebrows twitch upward in...confusion?

      No way.

      I ain't joking, dude. They want you up on Ketcham Station, starting today.

      Clark held out a printout as he spoke. Expecting yet another pathetic joke at my expense, I snatched it away and began reading. As I did, my bitterness and fatalism faded, replaced by amazement. And maybe just a smidgen of hope.

      Congratulations, the note began. I could not recall the last time anyone had congratulated me for anything. It continued, Your application for service aboard the Ketcham Station has been accepted. You will begin work on 27 April. Report to shuttle station seven at 0930 for transport. Welcome aboard! The note was unsigned, but it came on company letterhead, and the office code at the top indicated it was from Human Resources.

      I didn't apply for duty on Ketcham Station, I murmured.

      I applied for you, Carl said, his scowl becoming more like a sneer. You're always talking about how you should have stayed in the Navy. Ketcham's a ship. Sort of. He cleared his throat softly. Anyway, I figured it was time you moved on to something better.

      Better. Right. The Ketcham Station was a hole, and everyone knew it. Old, dilapidated, and about ready to de-orbit any week now, if the rumor-mill was to be believed. So yeah, I was getting fired again. So much for that smidgen of hope.

      Oh well. At least this time I got to keep a paycheck. And, truth be told, if Ketcham Station was as run-down as they said, it would probably have plenty of work to keep an electrician like me busy for a while. Maybe I could rack up some more overtime on this gig.

      Great. I tried to sound like I meant it. Then I saw the clock: 0900. The shuttle station was a twenty minute walk from the locker room. Crap.

      Wasting no time on chit-chat, I turned back to my locker and pulled out my duffle bag. It did not take long to pack all of my stuff; I only kept my lunchbox, a towel and soap, and the clothes I wore to work - jeans, a t-shirt from a trip to the Alamo, and a pair of beat-up sneakers - in there. Other guys kept their lockers full; I guess I never expected to stay all that long.

      Well, Carl said as I packed up, good luck up there. Been nice working with you.

      I knew he was lying, but it was nice of him to say it. Maybe he wasn't a total schmuck after all.

      I stepped back from the locker and stared at it for a minute. I had not worked there long, but I had hoped that maybe this time would be different. Seeing the locker empty like that gave me a weird feeling. You know people say it was like someone was walking over their grave? Sort of like that.

      But I did not have time to dwell on that if I was going to make the shuttle. With a grunt, I shouldered the duffle bag. Then I tugged the front of my gray work coveralls to smooth them out and turned away. My work boots made hollow echoes as I walked out of the deserted room.

      When I returned to my apartment three days later, I was exhausted. The kind of tired where you see spots and talk to someone only to realize you are totally alone. I barely had the energy and wherewithal to kick my shoes off and drop my duffel before I collapsed onto my old threadbare couch.

      Then I slept the sleep of the dead.

      I came to eighteen hours later. It took a long moment to figure out where I was. I looked one way, then the other, and it was like I was staring at a foreign land.

      Well, almost.

      The pictures on the walls, the stuffed leather chair in the corner, the oversized video display unit on the wall, the kitchenette tucked into the rear corner, the door to the hall off to the left, a small door on the opposite wall leading into the bathroom, and behind me the double-doors that housed my pull-down bed were all familiar, but I could not place them at first. I was still that tired, even after that much sleep. Plus, I felt like hell; I had a sour taste in my mouth, like I'd been sucking on a lemon or something, and I ached all over.

      Eventually it clicked. Home. A crappy little studio in a crappy portion of town.

      No place like it.

      It took a minute to push myself up off the couch. My aching muscles protested all the way. At least that made sense; I had worked hard on the station, though strangely my memories of what exactly I worked on were foggy. I chalked it up to my earlier exhaustion. Add to that the weird transition from full gravity to zero g on the shuttle to .5g on the station to zero g back to full

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