About Sleeping Beauty

by Rob Rosen
15 pages / 3500 words
Ebook zipped file contains - html, lit, Adobe and Sony optimized pdf, prc, epub

It was supposed to be a routine mission. Space outpost demolition. Place hadn’t been used in a handful of decades. Deserted. Or so James thinks until he comes across a stunning, naked man in a glass coffin, with T-minus twenty minutes remaining before the place is set to blow. But who is this man and how did he get there? And why is James so drawn to him? And what can you do with a stunning, naked man in twenty minutes? More importantly, can they blow before the outpost does?

Sample

The outpost was due to explode in just under an hour, him right along with it. Those were my orders. I could easily destroy or contain any assorted contaminations, prevent them from radiating to the planet below, but the outpost would be demolished, the explosives already set, with no way to unset. At least not by me. Clean it up and then get the fuck out of there. Should've been easy enough. Should've been by the book, just like I said.

I stared down at him again. "Guess you didn't read the book, pal."

I shook my head, my hand still resting on the glass, and that's when I heard it. It started as a ringing in my ears, the slightest buzz, just barely noticeable, and then it grew. Not a ringing, though, nor a buzz. Something else. A sound. A word. A voice.

"Hello," it seemed to say, softly, rooting around my brain, searching for a toehold. "Hello," it repeated, louder this time, deeper, striking at me like a bullet, piercing on through.

"Hello," I replied, face pointed up, talking into the air around me, head craning left and right. "Where are you?"

Silence was my answer, a pause. "Here," came the voice, fully connected to me now, tendriling around my mind, my heart suddenly beating hummingbird-fast, every nerve ending in my body ablaze.

I stared down, the body still lifeless, sealed off from yours truly. "Here? As in naked guy in the box here?"

The voice chuckled, the sound like seashells tossed at the shoreline, causing my face to flush, my palms to go instantly moist. "That would be a yes, Lieutenant Stevens."

I jumped in place, my hand retracted, a bead of sweat suddenly forming atop my brow before it dripped down my cheek. "How, how do you know my name?" I whispered, the words nearly catching in my throat. There was no reply, however, no movement, nothing. All was deathly still. Again I rested my gloved hand atop the glass. "How do you know my name?" I repeated.

"You have your job to do, Lieutenant, and I have mine," came the cryptic response.