4

“What I’m about to say is ludicrously stupid,” Benedict began, “but I ask that you keep an open mind. If you have any questions, I can answer them after.”

Michael nodded for Benedict to continue.

The flood of information the man let loose was overwhelming, but Michael kept quiet until the end.

“About a year ago, I came into possession of an extensive communications and networking corporation. Known as DenCom to most of the public, its advanced technologies division currently supplies the United States with the majority of its newest tech. Flight systems, satellites, even a few aircraft are in the works.

“I got to know the old CEO about a year before taking over the company. He’d heard about me through… okay, I know how stupid this is gonna sound, but he heard about me through my… ‘exploits’ in cryptozoology. I was job-hunting in Florida when he asked me to visit Denver, my old hometown. I accepted his offer, and he paid for a first-class ticket.

“I was taken straight from the airport to a house close by the Rockies. There, I was led to the bed of an old man who told me his name was Herbert Morecraft. He’d heard about the hobbies I had in my youth—ghost-hunting, UFOs, all that kind of stuff. Nothing ever came of it, though, until I was out of high school and I camped out in the Sierra Nevadas to look for Sasquatch. As I’m sure you’ve already assumed, I was young and stupid, so I got lost pretty quickly.

“As far as I was concerned, the trip was a complete failure. I was lost out there for three months with nothing but my coat and survival guide. I panicked, went feral, turned into a mountain man eating berries and catching trout out of streams to survive. Eventually, some hikers found me and took me back to town.

“After I got out of the hospital, I decided I’d had enough excitement for one lifetime. I spent four years in Seattle getting a useless degree in business management, then spent another year looking for work, living out of my car and cheap hotels so I could stay mobile. Near the end of that year was when Morecraft interviewed me.

“He told me two things. One, his doctors told him he was dying and he had less than a year to live, and two, that he’d researched me and was hoping I could take over as the new CEO once he passed away. I was floored. He laughed, then offered me a deal.

“He offered to fund a full expedition for the Sasquatch with me as the team leader. We could spend the next six months going wherever we wanted and doing whatever we wanted, but if we could prove the creature’s existence, then I would have fulfilled my end of the bargain, and he would sign over DenCom to me. He also said that if I did become CEO, he wanted me to pick up where he left off on his own investigations after he was gone. What could I say to that? He was offering me a chance to pursue my—albeit strange—passion. Plus, he offered me a hefty paycheck whether I came back with proof or not, just for my time. So, I accepted his offer, and here I am.”

Michael took the story in. It was obviously rehearsed, but much of it sounded sincere. But what was the point?

He’d never been a believer in the paranormal, apart from the existence of ghosts. In his youth he saw things, most of them probably figments of his imagination. Nonetheless, the experiences had opened the door to research in the phenomena, and he came out a believer. But everything else that fell under the catch-all term of “paranormal” didn’t particularly interest him. Still, his curiosity was piqued.

“So you found one?” Michael asked cautiously.

“Well, I’m CEO, so I must have found something,” Benedict answered with a hint of sarcasm.

“All right, then what did you find? A live one? Footprints? Hair?”

“If I could tell you, I would, but one of the things Morecraft and I agreed on was that none of the discoveries I made using his resources could become public. I mean, couldn’t you just see hillbilly gangs heading up into the woods and killing every last one if they knew where to look?”

Michael opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Benedict continued.

“Before he died, Morecraft said he wanted me to bring in more people to help me in my work. He didn’t name anyone in particular, but in my…” Benedict trailed off, gathering his thoughts. Several tense moments passed before he continued, “In my research, you and your friend Aron both showed up as potential candidates. Don’t ask why because honestly, I don’t quite know myself. I’m simply trusting the judgment of those who advise me.”

Michael raised an eyebrow.

“I want to offer you a deal, Michael. If you agree to help me with my research and expeditions, I will see to it that your store stays open. Not only that, but you will be paid generously to investigate and research a variety of subjects, from paranormal to political to religious. It’s all totally legal and sanctioned by the US government, as long as we do the occasional side work for them, in addition to giving them any valuable finds from our own investigations. I’m not allowed to answer the ‘why’ questions about your projects—or even say if your work is a success in some cases—but I can say you will make a good living and find fulfillment with the work you do. If at any time, that isn’t true, just let me know, and we will fix that. The arrangement would benefit everyone. I really, really think we can make this work.”

As Benedict caught his breath, Michael let the first of several questions out of his head. “You want me to take a second job working for you, and in exchange, you’ll pay me and support my shop?”

“Yep.” Benedict looked relieved, as if an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“And I’ll have no idea what I’m working on until you tell me?”

“In some cases, yes. Think of it like you’re working alone on one corner of a puzzle. You may not know what it is—and I may not either—but when everyone puts their corners together, we get a picture. If you don’t feel like it’s a good fit…” he trailed off, his breathing still heavy. “If it’s not a good fit, then we can work something out. Plus, like I said, if your own interests are desirable and could provide useful results, I would be more than happy to let you pursue them with our help.”

Michael thought he would have more to ask, but as Benedict caught his breath, only one more question escaped his lips: “How do I know this isn’t a scam?”

Benedict reached into his coat pocket and produced a large packet that Michael was surprised could have been concealed without being noticed. He placed it on the table, taking one long look at it before sliding it across to Michael.

“Everything you’ll need to convince yourself is in there. I think it would be best if you took a day or two to look it over before making your choice. There’s a card with my personal phone number on it, so when the time comes to say yes or no, call me. Everything else should be self-explanatory.” Benedict got up and pushed his chair in. “I may not be reachable for the next twelve hours or so. Where I’m heading, I don’t get great reception. By tomorrow morning, though, I should be able to take calls.”

Benedict extended a hand to Michael, who hesitated for a moment before shaking. Part of him hoped that whatever was inside the packet was bogus and that the whole thing turned out to be a scam. He knew there could be dark things down that path, things he didn’t want to get involved in. And as he looked into Benedict’s eyes for the last time that day, he thought he could see what that kind of research could do to someone.

They ended the handshake, and Benedict headed for the door. “Think it over and give me a call. And for the moment, don’t tell anyone, not even Aron until I can talk to him personally.” He gave a small wave. “I’ll see you in time.”

Benedict left the break room, and shortly after, Michael heard the front door chime, signaling his departure.

Benedict had put on a good show, but he still could have been a brilliant con artist. It could all be a game, an elaborate plot meant to take everything Michael had left, which was already dwindling dangerously close to nothing by the day.

Money was so tight, he was considering talking to his parents again and seeing if he could move back home to Sacramento for a while. It was a prospect he loathed, mostly since it had been over a year since he had spoken with them. They hadn’t approved of his choice to leave Dallas, and the few times they had talked since the move had been tense, to say the least. When it came to his father, who never failed to bring it up, “hostile” would have been a better word. He knew he was a disappointment to them, forgoing relationships and stability in favor of his own desires.

Now, he might have an opportunity to do things right in their eyes, but he couldn’t say he wanted to.

He left the packet on the table and headed for the computer. First, he looked up DenCom and found it was an actual corporation. Not only that, but it was indeed the leader in non-commercial tech for businesses and the US government. He also found out that since the company’s founding in the sixties, no one had ever gotten an interview with either CEO, but he found purported pictures of them on conspiracy sites. Apparently, Morecraft and Benedict’s work had not gone unnoticed by those in tinfoil hats.

He found an article on one site detailing Morecraft’s disappearance and Benedict’s arrival onto the scene. The article included pictures of who they thought were the two CEOs. The older man in the first picture wore thick glasses and a slightly disheveled tan tweed sports jacket. Michael could tell the picture was likely taken without Morecraft’s knowledge, since he wasn’t looking at the camera and a blurry cityscape could be seen behind him. The other picture was obviously of Benedict, who also seemed oblivious to the photographer. His coat was blowing in the wind, and he looked to be on an airport tarmac with two other, much taller men: One was bald, the other sported a short Mohawk.

The article itself was essentially useless. It was a lot of “We know something is going on. We don’t know what, but something!”

He closed the computer, only slightly less cautious about the situation. Benedict was the subject of some crackpot’s mystery article. So what? Couldn’t that crackpot be Benedict himself, just another layer of the man’s scheme? He obviously knew Michael was going to look him up, so could he have written the article?

At least DenCom existed. That was verifiable. In fact, as he thought back to his last trip to Denver for a trade show, he had seen DenCom Tower in person. It was the largest building in the city, standing easily a third taller than the rest.

On top of that, it seemed well-established that the CEO had never been a public figure, and that he was only known by his first name, even within the company. Still, the article implied that the name might have been taken from the recently renamed street that led to DenCom Tower: Benedict Street.

He’d seen enough. He had to open the packet.

Michael headed back to the break room, the packet still lying on the table. He opened it, flipped it over, and let three items fall out. The first was a plain white business card with Benedict’s number written on it. The second was an employee manual that was easily an inch thick, labeled Practice and Procedure for DenCom Private Agents. Michael flipped through it, paying little attention to the text.

The third item was a small envelope labeled “Advance” in rushed handwriting. He gently opened it and nearly fell out of his chair.

Inside was a check made out to him for a million dollars.

Want to read Chapter 5 but can’t wait?
Michael Ridding: A DenCom Thriller is already out on Kindle!
Get it at the link below!

Buy it on Audible using the link below!

INSIGHTS!

Benedict’s backstory went through quite a few changes, but I never messed with the meat of the story. At one time, I drafted this as a narrative from Benedict’s point of view when he first took over DenCom. This was cut because I do plan to go back and tell this story in a future novel and also because a flashback on top of a flashback is not an ideal way to start a book (*cough*).

So we just had Benedict tell the story, and I think it works a little better and doesn’t raise the kind of questions the narrative likely would have.

That’s it for now. See you next week with another blog post!

-S.T. Hoover

What am I reading?

One Hundred Lyrics and a Poem by Neil Tennant

This is the first time in years that I think I’ve bought two copies of the same book. I actually bought one of the limited edition hardbacks that was signed, numbered, and in its own special case (this also marks the only time I can recall paying over $100 for a book for pleasure–it was a wedding present to myself).

I eventually got the standard edition as well because I’m so worried something will happen to the expensive one if I read it or carry it around with me.

In short, Neil takes 100 of his favorite lyrics from The Pet Shop Boys (he and Chris Lowe are the sole members of the band) and gives insight on each of the songs and their meaning or what inspired them. It’s been a fun read so far, and I hope to see more of Neil’s writing in the future.

3

Michael gazed down at his screen. The smaller man steadied himself on the aquarium shelves with his right hand. As he watched, the man’s face slowly returned to its normal color. It had been five minutes since the man had spoken out loud, and Michael was certain he was about to make his move. Whatever that was.

Michael had no weapon. Not because he had anything against them, but because he simply didn’t think he needed one. However, he suddenly wished he had a gun within reach as he saw the man approach the counter.

As he rounded the corner, Michael saw that he wore that same forced smile.

“Mr. Ridding,” the man began as he came up to the desk and extended a hand. “My name is Benedict, and if you don’t mind, I would like to take a moment of your time to talk about a business proposal.”

How did this strange man know his name? Was he some old contact, maybe a sales representative from one of the various companies he stocked? Maybe they had met at a trade show? It was possible, but then again, this was someone Michael knew he would have remembered.

Even so, he sounded as awkward as a young kid reading in front of a class. The presentation was obviously rehearsed, but there was genuine passion in the forced words. Whatever this guy wanted to talk over, he was serious, but also unsure of how to handle the situation. Michael considered the request. If it was a legitimate proposal, he was willing to hear it, but why present him with this now when the store was about to close?

Finally given a better chance to look the man over, Michael reconsidered his earlier assessment. It was obvious that Benedict wasn’t a drug addict or some other undesirable.

To start with, he smelled good. He wore a copious amount of Oxford Bleu cologne, the distinct scent crossing the distance between them with ease. His well-tailored coat was nicely set and freshly cleaned—not a hair clung to it.

It was like Michael was talking to a completely different man than the one who had walked in.

Michael grasped the outstretched hand while glancing at his wristwatch. It was just after twelve-thirty. “Well, I was about to close for lunch, so I guess we can talk in the break room, if you like.”

Benedict made little attempt to contain his joy.

Michael flipped the “Closed” sign, not bothering to lock the door, and showed Benedict to the small employee lunch area. The room consisted of a microwave atop a mini-fridge and a round folding table with two matching chairs. Michael let Benedict have a seat first, then walked to the refrigerator.

“You want anything? We have burritos, soup?”

“No thanks, I ate on the plane,” Benedict said, then quickly grew quiet, as if he’d been silently reprimanded.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind if I have something. It’ll be my first meal all day.” Or perhaps his only meal, but he didn’t tell Benedict that. If this man was here to discuss business, it wasn’t in his best interest to imply that he barely had enough money for one microwaved meal a day. “So, you just flew in?”

“Yeah, my plane came in just a couple hours ago. I had a layover and thought I would stop in town,” Benedict said as Michael put his food in the microwave.

“Well, feel free to let me know if I’m keeping you,” Michael said.

“Oh, they won’t leave without me,” Benedict said uncomfortably, as if he wasn’t sure if he should be saying anything at all.

“Wish airlines would do that for me,” Michael remarked. He hadn’t flown in a long time. Even then, it had been for business, and he found none of the sparse trips to trade shows enjoyable.

“Well, they have to, since it’s my plane,” Benedict said with a hint of resistance.

Michael looked back, his eyes bulging. “You have your own plane?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it mine. It’s the company’s private jet, but I have priority,” Benedict replied.

Michael fought to keep his jaw from dropping. Benedict’s claim of having a private jet left him surprised, yet troubled. It seemed impossible that any company with the resources to maintain such an asset would be interested in his small shop.

The microwave went off and Michael retrieved his meal.

“All right,” he said, cautiously walking to the table and sitting across from Benedict. “You have my attention.”

Want to read Chapter 4 but can’t wait?
Michael Ridding: A DenCom Thriller is already out on Kindle!
Get it at the link below!

Buy it on Audible using the link below!

INSIGHTS!

Chapters 3 and 4 were originally combined, but during the early stages of the editing process, I ended up breaking them apart like I did many chapters of the novel. At one point, Michael Ridding only consisted of 20 or 25 chapters that were broken up for the sake of keeping a fast pace, which I still think works and made the initial writing process of DenCom 2 more enjoyable.

At one point, if I recall correctly, there was a scene where we see the killers (referenced in the first chapter) interact and adjust their plan, as well as hint at how it will eventually go wrong (I swear that’s not a spoiler. If their plan succeeded, we wouldn’t have nearly 57 more chapters of fun!). This was cut because the editor and I thought it would be a better idea to keep what was happening purely in Michael’s head for the duration of the flashback so it doesn’t confuse readers.

Anyway, that’s what I’ve got for now! See you next week with another blog post!

-S.T. Hoover

What am I listening to?

i by The Magnetic Fields

At the time of this writing, I’m listening to this album several times a week as I write my first Kaiju novel. Odds are, I’ll probably have moved on to DenCom 2 edits by the time this gets posted, so I can’t promise that I’m listening to it right now at this very moment. But I have a feeling it will filter into my DenCom 2 playlist, especially for the… well, let’s just say confusing moments that may or may not be written out.

Yeah… just… take anything I say about DenCom 2 right now with a grain of salt, K?

Anyway, I wanted to give them a shot but wasn’t ready to dive into 69 Love Songs or 50-Song Memoir, and this was the only other CD they had at the local record store at the time. I don’t know if this is regarded as one of their better albums or not, but I have to say I’m impressed. Stephin Merritt has a rather distinct voice that carries the often emotional lyrics with absolute precision. It’s well worth the listen if you have the chance.

2

Wednesday, June 17th
Seven Years Ago
Modern Aquaria
Palm Springs, California
12:16 PM

Life after college had been difficult for Michael.

Shortly after graduation, he moved to Dallas and worked for a tropical fish distribution center. After spending two years making a good living off of something he loved, things took a turn. He suffered something his parents had feared and predicted: A quarter-life crisis.

Desperate to make something more of his life, he saved enough to lease a condo in Palm Springs and started his own aquarium shop, Modern Aquaria. Initially, the shop did well, winning over most of the local aquarium enthusiasts and drawing new people into the hobby. Years later, though, hard times hit nationwide, and aquariums became a luxury few could afford. The shop did worse and worse over time, much to his disappointment. After months of struggling to keep the shop going, Michael was forced to announce that the store was closing.

That was when Benedict found him.

If Michael had a list of the oddest people he had ever met in his life, Benedict would have soared to the top on psychotic wings.

It was the final week of business and Michael was working alone, catering to no one when an unfamiliar face walked into the shop. He was a younger, slightly heavy man who was just shorter than Michael. He wore a long, black wool coat in the hundred-and-six-degree heat. Black denim pants and black dress shoes peeked out from underneath the coat, and Michael could make out a white T-shirt and a black, rectangular pendant around the man’s neck.

“Hey there,” Michael said, welcoming the man as he did all customers.

But the smaller man appeared intimidated, initially drawing back before returning the welcome with a nod and forced smile. He started browsing and was soon lost among the rows of aquariums and supplies.

Looking back, Michael could never place why, but he had felt that now more than ever would be a good time to check the security cameras. Using a system of his own design, he turned on the monitors, knowing that any obvious robbery would be caught on the DVR back in his office. The monitor, hidden under the cashier’s desk, took a moment to warm up before the multi-image screen displayed the four security camera feeds.

He saw the man in aisle four among the tanks of saltwater livestock, hunched over and…

Is he crying?

Michael saw the slow heaving of the man’s chest and the constant wiping of his eyes. He was obviously upset, and he was trying to hide it.

In the otherwise empty store, Michael could hear the man talking to himself, his voice barely audible over the buzzing and bubbling aquarium filters.

“You have to. You need to,” he was saying. “You came all this way, came this far. You can’t throw it away now that you know what he means.”

The man’s head shot up, searching to see if he had been heard, oblivious to the hidden security camera among the décor across from him.

Now, Michael could clearly make out the man’s face. His eyes were red and his cheeks were pink from wiping away tears. He looked down, making more of an effort to compose himself.

Michael tensed. The man could be some kind of nut-bag or drug addict—or worse. He had come across some before; Palm Springs was known for its diversity and acceptance of alternative lifestyles—most of which were accepted and even encouraged—but it was no longer the most “family-friendly” place, once one searched behind the blacked-out windows of supposedly abandoned buildings. Every once in a while, some “undesirables” would creep out from those dark buildings and into the light when least expected. They were far from welcome, even in the famously tolerant city.

Was this man one of them?

Want to read Chapter 3 but can’t wait?
Michael Ridding: A DenCom Thriller is already out on Kindle!
Get it at the link below!

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INSIGHTS!

I still find Benedict to be an odd character. He’s more or less the culmination of several scrapped characters filling this role in early iterations of DenCom and unrelated works. Looking back on the earliest iteration of what I would call the “modern” DenCom crew, the first distinct version of Benedict was a side character who didn’t actually run the company but managed to take over by the end of that scrapped project.

Going back even further, I can find similar characters from what was meant to be the final Michael Ridding story. In this novelette, Michael took on many of Benedict’s personality traits; in many ways, this version of Michael was the perfect combination of Michael and Benedict. I do have plans to recycle this concept into current DenCom canon, but not anytime soon.

Many facets of the series predate Benedict’s arrival, including Modern Aquaria, Palm Springs, Michael, Aron, Andrea, and Granger. That doesn’t make Benedict any less of a character, but he’s led the series in a new and hopefully original direction.

Then again, nothing is original. Look out for that blog post. 😉

Anyway, we’ll go a little more into Benedict in the next chapter!

That’s all I’ve got for now. See you next week for another blog post!

-S.T. Hoover

What am I listening to?

Super by Pet Shop Boys

This is by no means a new album, but I recently happened upon the vinyl at a book store, much to my surprise. I first fell in love with their album Electric, and suddenly, I had to have everything they put out, one of the first albums I spontaneously found being Super. Now that I have the vinyl edition, I’ll probably play it to death while I edit DenCom 2.

If I had to name my number one favorite thing about the album, it would be the variety of songs. Yes, it’s all pop, but how the album manages to pull off songs like “The Pop Kids” in the same vein as “The Dictator Decides” and “Sad Robot World” is something I’ve done my best to study every time I put on the record.