Shattered Realities by Michael Kilcannon (android e book reader .txt) 📕

Sam stood under the shower as the hot water cascaded over his body. There was just something about early morning showers that he liked. “So invigorating,” he thought. He was glad the he had finally had a chance to make the trip to Galveston for vacation. It was something his family used to do when he was growing up. A visit to the beach, Sea Rim and a day sailing was always the norm. Usually followed up by a trip to Houston to see the Astros, and if he was lucky, a trip to NASA headquarters. Even as a kid, he was interested in science, it shaped his career path.

Sam smiled as he remembered afternoons at San Jacinto state park, shopping at the Galleria, nagging his sister as they saw the sights at the zoo. He even remembered being scared and fascinated by the Mummy exhibit he saw one summer at the Museum of Natural History. He reached for the soap, ready to start his day.

The disinfectant soap had a nauseating smell to it and felt like rough sandpaper on his skin. Sam nearly always became sick when he was made to take the bio showers, but it was standard operating procedure. He looked around at the sterile shower room and could hear some of his coworkers in the adjoining stalls, one was even singing. It blew Sam’s mind as he scrubbed with the foul smelling bar.

“Hey Sam.” A gruff voice called out, Sam looked up and over. “You suppose that we’ll actually get inside the ship tomorrow like Dawson says?”

Sam smiled wistfully, “I hope so Frank, the suspense is killing me!”

Sam blinked. “Ship?” He thought absently. “What Ship?” He shook his head as he reached down to shut off the water to the shower. He pulled open the shower curtain, reached for a towel and stepped out.

“Shows you how much I needed this vacation.” He said out loud, thinking back. He walked over to the bathroom sink. He looked at the plain white walls, the larger mirror in front of him, the large counter and sparkling white toilet and grimaced. There were times that he felt that the hotel bathrooms were more than a little generic and boring. Then again, he supposed, the hotels were designed to be that way. He reached to open the medicine cabinet. How he hated shaving.

“Maybe I’ll just grow a beard,” he thought.
He grabbed the can of shaving cream and lathered his face. He then reached for the razor, wondering again why he just did not grow a beard. Or at least get an electric shaver. He leaned forward to the mirror to get a better look at his face.

Sam looked baffled at his reflection in the shiny metal surface. Not a hint of seams or any sign of how the metal was attached together. It was almost as if it was one cylindrical piece. He wiped his forehead in frustration and pushed his glasses up. He stepped back and looked over at Dawson to his left standing several feet away examining the craft as well. He seemed to be a perplexed as he was. Dawson looked up and started to say something.
“Guys!” Frank interrupted, calling out from the other side of the craft. “Come see this!”

Sam blinked at his reflection in the mirror. “See what?” He sighed and noticed that he had nicked himself shaving. He opened the medicine cabinet to look at for something to stop the bleeding.

He saw a sort, thin bright orange pill bottle on the bottom shelf and reached for it. He examined the label.

All he saw was his name and the instructions to take one a day in the morning. It surprised him that there was no other labeling on the bottle. No pill name, doctor or pharmacy was listed.

“Strange,” he thought, examining it further. Then again he could not even remember having the bottle. He frowned, he was sure that he had never seen the bottle before. He thought for a moment, and then put the bottle back.

“Very strange,” he thought again, and then walked out of the bathroom. He figured that the cut would not kill him. He had places to be and was losing valuable daylight.


The hot afternoon sun beat down on Sam as he walked the beach. The sounds of the surf and the birds were relaxing. He scanned the horizon and saw nothing but the Gulf of Mexico. Seeing the occasional pleasure boat bouncing along the waves, but noticing that it was mostly empty on the horizon, he thought, “How peaceful. “

“This is the life,” he convinced himself. No worries. He walked further along the beach. He smiled as he saw two teenage girls running down the beach trying to get a kite airborne. A sudden gust of wind sent the bright green kite soaring up. Sam stared at the green diamond kite as it fluttered in the sky. The material shined a bright, florescent green in the morning sunlight.

Sam and Dawson were looking at Frank as he smiled at them. His face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. He said almost above a whisper, “I found it!”

Dawson said, “Found what?”

Frank to a step toward the craft and said, “This.”
He raised a hand to the silver hull and extending out all his fingers, pressed his palm against the craft.
The three stared in amazement as three bright shapes appeared on the side; a red circle, a blue triangle and a green diamond. The green diamond was flashing.
Without hesitation Frank reached up to press the green diamond. Sam held his breath…

“Watch out dude!” a young man’s voice interrupted Sam’s thoughts. He looked over to see ATV bearing down on him at full throttle. He leapt out of the way, landing face first in the sand. The machine kept racing off, the driver uncaring about what had transpired.

The young man that had warned him reached out his hand and helped Sam back up. Sam shook off the sand, thanked the young man. He decided that maybe a nice jaunt to downtown would be more interesting. Not to mention safer. First, he needed to head back to his hotel room.

Sam sighed in relief as he stepped into the hotel lobby. The blast of air conditioning on this hot Texas summer day felt as if he had stepped into heaven. He was well on his way to the elevator when a hotel employee caught up with him.

“Mr. Thomas!” He called out. Sam stopped and turned around. The middle aged hotel employee handed him a letter. “This came for you.”

Sam reached out and took the envelope from him. Staring at the envelope he reached into his pocket and handed the man a tip. Not hearing the thank you he turned and stepped into the elevator, still staring at the envelope. On it was his name in care of the hotel. He noticed that the cream colored envelope had no return address. Curious as to who would send him a letter he opened it after he hit the button for his floor.

In it he found a single page. Sam was shocked when he recognized the handwriting as his own.

‘Do not forget to take your pills!’

Sam just stared at the note, not quite sure what to make of it, his mind focused on the vial of pills he had left untouched in his room that morning. His train of thought was interrupted by the ding of the elevator. He stepped off and made his way for his room. Hurriedly he swiped the key card and stepped inside. Dropping the note and envelope on the stand next to his bed, he made a beeline for the bathroom and the medicine cabinet.

The pill vial sat exactly where he had set it earlier. He reached for it. Started to put his hand on the top to open it, and then stopped. Thinking for a minute he set the vial back down and walked back to his bed and plopped down and looked straight up, he watched the ceiling fan blades slowly spin and drifted to sleep.


Sam awoke and the world around him was dark. He looked aver to the bed side clock and it read a little past nine in the evening. He sat up and looked around. Reaching over, he flipped on the lamp and his eyes were instantly drawn to the letter on the nightstand. He looked at it as if it were diseased. He could take it no longer. Grabbing the note, he examined it again. The words had not changed, nor the handwriting.

With note in hand he walked to the bathroom and once again stared at the vial.
He felt disturbed, frustrated and hungry. It had occurred to him that he had not eaten that day. Setting the letter back down, Sam thought that maybe a good meal would help him think. Maybe this is all the result of food, or the lack of it. He laughed when the words of Scrooge came to mind, “There is more of gruel than ghoul.” He made a face in the mirror and called out, “Humbug. Bah Humbug.”
He made his way to the closet and began to get dressed for a night on the town, feeling a bit better.

The noise of the restaurant made Sam a bit uneasy. The sounds of the kitchen, the several conversations going on simultaneously, the clanging of pans and tinkling of glassware served only to unnerve him. The waitress came to take his order, he gruffly ordered the house specialty and leaned back in his chair to try and relax and nurse his drink. Off in the distance he heard the hiss of a drink station as someone refilled a coke.

Right after Frank pushed the green pattern as the craft began to hiss strangely. The three of them stepped back and someone up in the control room overlooking them noticed. An alarm sounded and a not so calm voice alerted everyone to a possible danger in the hangar bay that housed the craft.
In seconds several other white