Read The Betwixt Book One for Free Online Page A

too
drunk to make it back to their complimentary quarters on the
station.
    It was darker and more narrow, felt far more like I was just
in a tin can with nothing but a couple of feet of metal protecting
me from the ravages of space. There wasn't the controlled lighting,
the pleasant temperature, even the neat fixtures that the rest of
the station enjoyed. It was stark, cold, and reminded me of some
remote moonscape prison where you'd keep the galaxy's hardest
criminals.
    And there wasn't anyone around, it was as dead as a ghost ship
sailing alone in the uncharted space between galaxies. Maybe I was
just used to the crowds of the personnel decks, but shouldn't there
be at least someone down here? The only sounds I could hear where
the uneven patter of my feet against the metal walkway and the
harsh percussion of my breath. Which didn't help things
any.
    I trusted that the monk knew where he was going. I didn't
fancy the idea of running around stupid for a half-hour, only to
take a brief rest against some cold metal wall and be grabbed from
behind by the very shadow of death. But even if we did manage to
find the ghost ship in time, what then? If the alien was right, and
the GAM really were about to board her, then wouldn't they object
to letting the waitress and monk tag along for fun? Wouldn't they
boot us off this deck faster than a meteor slicing through the
atmosphere?
    I didn't have to wait long to find out. Soon we entered a
further section of the corridor, around a dark t-intersection that
would have had me more lost than a blind grandma in a maze. The
monk seemed to know what he was doing, though, and rather than
continue along the walkway, trotted over to a section of the wall
and pulled off a panel. He then disappeared along an apparent
service duct.
    I had a brief moment where I made a face. Did I really want to
go crawling through a dirty service tunnel in my uniform? Because I
was still wearing it – my blue flouncy skirt and white blouse with
the holo-pin of 'Marty's Space Diner' blinking excitedly. Was that
really the outfit someone wore to save the galaxy from Twixts? And
it still smelt mildly of rotten fish.
    The moment passed quickly though. What was I thinking?
Standing around wasting time on costume questions. Would I really
be any better off if I had thick, jet-black GAM armor, or at least
a pair of slacks? No. This was still an impossible mission, so the
fishy uniform would do.
    I got down on my hands and knees and followed the monk into
the duct. I tugged down on the back of my skirt compulsively, even
though there was not a soul behind me. ‘Where are we going?’ I
asked as he set off at an easy jog, me at a painful
crawl.
    ‘ We are not going through the front door, but via an
alternative route.’
    I frowned. Yes, I could tell that this wasn't the usual way
they got into docked ships. A little more detail would have been
nice though. Like 'we're going to pop out in Main Engineering, so
be careful not to stick your head in a fusion reactor'. Or 'we'll
likely jump right into the cargo bay, so don't be surprised when
the Twixts have at you and cover you in perpetual
darkness'.
    I didn't say anything, just concentrated on crawling. My
uncovered knees were starting to smart, and I'd already cut one of
my palms on a rough patch of metal grating. I was bloody and
bruised even before the fight had began – this was not a good
sign.
    But as the service duct wound on, I started to concentrate
more on what was ahead. I felt like I was spiraling down into a
bottomless, unavoidable realization. I was going to die, wasn't I?
This, this wasn't going to end any other way. I was heading onto a
ghost ship to fight something that shouldn't even exist and was the
stuff of galactic nightmares. I was going
to . . . 
    ‘ Looks like a ghost ship to me, sir', a voice said from beneath
me.
    I jumped, as best as you can on all fours, and hit my head on
the top of the duct above.
    ‘ What was that?’
    My heart had