Tonight we continue with Part 2: Pioneers and Explorers. So far we've been introduced to our first two space twins, Oswaldo (Ozzie) Guerrero and Shamiso Kachote. Now it's time to meet our third space twin ... and learn of a salacious scheme to get Kelvin selected to the crew for the upcoming space mission to Kapteyn B.
We start off by traveling from Houston all the way to Canada, where we visit an orphanage for young males ages two to thirteen. It's a rough existence for the boys living there but among the many hundreds there is to be found a pair of identical twins who possess the makings for becoming brilliant scientists someday.
Kelvin and B.J. are asked to tag along with Space Programme staffers, making the short drive up from Mississauga. They spend the day visiting the facility and gathering intel on the two candidates. When testing continues into a second day, the finalists are transferred to a hotel down the road in Toronto. B.J. and Kelvin are invited as well; and that's where the two stoners get to demonstrate how they got their reputations. Yet when they befriend one of the staffers - a young woman from Germany - their fortunes take a turn for the better. Seems Helga and her husband Steffen know exactly who Kelvin needs to be talking to if he wants a spot on the crew.
Tonight we continue with Part 2: Pioneers and Explorers. So far we've been introduced to our first two space twins, Oswaldo (Ozzie) Guerrero and Shamiso Kachote. Now it's time to meet our third space twin ... and learn of a salacious scheme to get Kelvin selected to the crew for the upcoming space mission to Kapteyn B.
We start off by traveling from Houston all the way to Canada, where we visit an orphanage for young males ages two to thirteen. It's a rough existence for the boys living there but among the many hundreds there is to be found a pair of identical twins who possess the makings for becoming brilliant scientists someday.
Kelvin and B.J. are asked to tag along with Space Programme staffers, making the short drive up from Mississauga. They spend the day visiting the facility and gathering intel on the two candidates. When testing continues into a second day, the finalists are transferred to a hotel down the road in Toronto. B.J. and Kelvin are invited as well; and that's where the two stoners get to demonstrate how they got their reputations. Yet when they befriend one of the staffers - a young woman from Germany - their fortunes take a turn for the better. Seems Helga and her husband Steffen know exactly who Kelvin needs to be talking to if he wants a spot on the crew.
Hello, and welcome back to Twin Paradox. I'm King Everett Medlin and what you're hearing is a SciFi trilogy I wrote four years ago under the pseudonym Purple Hazel. Twin Paradox follows my first podcast series entitled Deathwalker Colony, which is now a full length novel available for purchase on Amazon. It's on sale today in E-book format, as well as the first two books in the Rijel 12 Series, The Rise of New Australia and Return of Anarchy. You can check out those as well as some of my earlier works by going to the link provided in the transcript for this episode.
Tonight we continue with Part 2: Pioneers and Explorers. So far we've been introduced to our first two space twins, Oswaldo (Ozzie) Guerrero and Shamiso Kachote. Now it's time to meet our third space twin, who you'll become familiar with shortly...not to mention Kelvin and B.J.'s salacious scheme to get him selected to the crew for the upcoming space mission to Kapteyn B. The chapter is called Katerfrüstück, which is a German expression for hangover breakfast.
Twin Paradox is a SciFi series encompassing three full length novels; all of which will be read in their entirety during the coming weeks. You can go online and download the E-books ... or if you prefer, tune in each week and listen to me read them to you. So let's keep going.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Twin Paradox, Part Two: Pioneers and Explorers. Chapter Eight, Katerfrüstück ....
After departing Houston, Space Programme staffers travelled all the way to Canada, and went to visit a facility originally suggested by Kelvin himself (upon B.J.’s urgings, naturally). The St John’s Training School for Boys (formerly the Kennedy Detention Centre) northeast of Toronto near the township of Uxbridge was where they were headed, and the alteration in climate - from the heat of south Texas to the cool Autumn afternoons of southeastern Canada - was a welcome change.
Better yet, Kelvin and B.J. were able to tag along! They even rode on the bus sent to pick up the staffers from Toronto Pearson Airport. Günther meanwhile chose to stay back in Mississauga and work on his projects … said he wasn’t comfortable participating. Robin had no interest in making the trip either. Seeing a gloomy orphanage, like the ones he’d known of back in Atlanta? Just military concentration camps as far as he was concerned. “Oh hell no!” he argued. It was a fate worse than death to be sent to one of those, as he recalled growing up. No, he’d want nothing to do with seeing one up close and personal. Despite his misgivings, Kelvin and B.J. tried to get him to go.
“But dude, seriously, this is your thing … we’re doin’ this ‘cause of your idea,” urged Kelvin. The young transgender had already helped out immensely. Kelvin and B.J. simply thought it’d be fun to have Robin come along. Get high and walk around the grounds checking out a real, live orphanage. Help out with the selection process, maybe. Robin was unmoved.
“Ain’t no way bitch,” quipped Robin, “They don’t wanna see no tall niggah in drag sashayin’ around lookin’ fly.” Valid point. It was one thing to have a slender black drag queen with jewelry and necklaces, black elastic stretch pants and sparkly silver miniskirt (tank top with a collarless magenta half-shirt pulled over it) strutting through Magellan’s project floor to a staff meeting. That was a safe environment and besides everyone respected Robin’s abilities there. But outside - in the real world?
“Nah, I be gettin’ an ass whoopin up there fo’ sho’,” he chuckled. And there was certainly no point in trying to convince him to try dressing and acting like a man. No one ever dared making a suggestion like that to Robin. He was proud of what he was and jolly well had a right to be. That being said, he also knew where not to go at night in downtown Toronto! An orphanage with former street kids? That was begging for trouble. Kelvin and B.J. decided to let it lie.
"Yeah," agreed B.J. "Probably not your thing. Anyway, we'll let you know how it went when we get back. How about that?"
The set of twins they were to be investigating were named Young-Min and Kwang-Min Jo and their parents were likely from Korea, or so the Jesuits at St. John’s believed, having fled the country when it plunged for a second time into bloody civil war not long after the death of North Korean Premier Kim Jong-Un. Between these two very talented candidates, the staffers knew they’d be faced with an even more difficult choice than they’d encountered so far. The two seemed like boy geniuses - that is, according to the staff of deacons running the place.
Not physically intimidating by any stretch, Kwang-Min and Young-Min were nevertheless quite adept at controlling and manipulating other kids. Kelvin personally had a fabulous time talking to them before Programme staffers whisked them away for testing. Afterward, Kelvin and B.J. stayed behind out on the schoolyard to have a little chat with the other orphans at St. Johns. Perhaps get a little 'intel' on the two twins. It gave B.J. a chance to work her magic.
“So, tell me about your friends, huh? They pretty smart?” asked the buxom brunette. She didn’t mind the inordinate amount of attention she was garnering at the time. On the contrary, she’d purposely worn a tight cotton tank-top that had a bedazzled print of a marijuana leaf on the front. Once surrounded by thirty or forty pre-pubescent teenagers and wide-eyed ten-year-olds next to the facility's soccer fields, she casually laid back on the bleacher seats she was sitting on and let her nylon mini skirt ride up just a tad so they could practically see her panties. Everyone noticed, including her occasional fuck-buddy Kelvin.
“Pervert,” muttered Kelvin under his breath, but just loud enough so she could hear him. It worked well however in drawing a crowd, he had to admit, while Programme staffers went to go interview the two twin boys and administer the aptitude exam. They’d learned their lesson in Texas however. This time they wanted only sixty boys in the room; and let the Jesuits themselves pick out the smartest ones to take the tests. This was highly effective in limiting distractions caused by having candidates constantly getting up and exiting the testing hall while those still in the running tried to concentrate. That said, the Jo’s and the staffers were inside for a very long time in that stuffy auditorium. This gave B.J. and Kelvin plenty of opportunity to get the scoop on Kwang-Min and Young-Min, as told by their eager young schoolmates. Mesmerized by B.J.'s sexy figure they were eager to offer their input.
“Kwang is the smarter of the two, I think,” said one boy. He had a cut in his lip from a recent fist fight, it appeared. Wore a stocking cap over his bulging afro even though it was a sunny afternoon. Otherwise he was dressed like all the other boys in raggedy street clothes; wearing a tattered mechanic’s shirt that he buttoned up to the collar. Another boy apparently disagreed with him. He was bigger than a lot of his fellow orphans but seemed more like a clumsy fat kid than one of the ringleaders.
“Nah, Young- Min is smarter, man. Remember that time we …,“ then suddenly another boy smacked him with the back of his hand right in the stomach to shut him up.
“Dude!” the other boy said admonishingly. Obviously the other kid thought his schoolmate was about to reveal some important secret that no one could know outside of the orphanage. Kelvin giggled boyishly.
“It’s alright if you wanna tell us,” Kelvin said with a confident grin. “We don’t know anybody here. Secret’s safe with us.” He figured they’d pulled off something devilishly clever, just like Kelvin used to do growing up in Virginia. He himself had once been quite crafty in getting his friends to help him spy on the girls’ showers over at the high school athletic center. Recruited a team of them to drill through a skylight and install a live feed video camera that somehow no one ever noticed for an entire semester during his senior year.
“Nah … nuthin’ dude. Nuthin’,” replied the kid. He looked about twelve and frankly he was so smitten by B.J.’s curves and sexy bare legs he’d already lost interest in the conversation by then. But others spoke up anyway, accommodating their lovely guest’s request and telling them all they could without fear of incriminating each other.
Kwang-Min was the more devious one among the pair, it was learned. Had to be really. Life at St. Johns could be harrowing at times. Pedophilia was outlawed and now punishable by public execution … but that was something for out in white suburbia where noble laws could actually be enforced and kids went home to loving parents whom they could openly tell what had happened. At St. John’s this was not the case. And yet, despite their predicament, the Jo’s became heroes of their dormitory section by devising an ingenious system for exposing Deacons who dared step over the line.
“Basically it was like a booby trap … like them old movies where a dude is going through the jungle and steps on a spike or falls in a pit, right?” said one kid who’d temporarily gotten his fill of looking at B.J.’s breasts and was now apparently ready to speak up. “System was pretty awesome too,” he added admiringly. He went on to describe a sort of netting which would hold a bag of gooey petroleum resin stuffed inside. Boys who feared being sexually assaulted by Deacons could simply shove these packets in their rectums and when penetrated they’d explode all over their tormentor’s penis, thereby fingering him for the crime.
“True that … blew up all over their dicks, man!” shouted a kid from further back in the crowd, then everyone broke up laughing. They kept on laughing too, mimicking the scene and repeatedly pantomiming the perpetrator’s assumed reaction to the sticky black slime which would then be covering his genitals. Kelvin looked at B.J. for a moment with eyes wide in amazement, mouthing something like “Whuh?” and contorting his face in feigned disgust. His lovely partner’s reaction differed slightly.
"Hahahahahah! Oh, my God, that's hilarious!" B.J. laughed so loud her sides ached. Practically killed her marijuana buzz she cackled so loudly. Kelvin soon roared with laughter as well.
“Yeah man,” continued the teenage boy, “… shit wouldn’t come off no matter what they tried. Couldn’t’ wash it off. Kid could go right to the administrator’s office, tell ‘em what happened … ‘n all they had to do was make that son of a bitch drop his pants ‘n BAM, off he’d go, man. They’d call the police and drag that creep away from here in fuckin’ zip ties. Take his ugly ass out and hang him, is what I heard.” This drew a rash of triumphant whoops from the crowd. Kelvin hastily composed himself.
“So it was Kwang-Min who developed the substance you used?” probed the young man from Virginia. The teenager smiled and nodded proudly as if to affirm this fact. Opinions varied.
“Nah, it was both of them, remember?” argued another kid, shorter but not much younger than the other boys. “Young-Min found the shit they used and Kwang only tweaked it a bit, that's what I heard.”
The first kid promptly clarified, “Yeah, but Kwang did the netting, remember?” A few other boys nodded their heads in agreement. B.J. was intrigued.
“So how big was it…the uh, whatever it was that you put in your butts?” asked B.J. still recovering from laughing so hard and now morbidly fascinated with the imagery. Not surprisingly the boys didn’t answer for a few moments, not wanting to identify themselves as previous rape victims. They squirmed and jostled about, looking down at the ground, gazing about for someone to call out within the crowd and try to make him answer for everyone. Kelvin figured this discussion had gone about as far as it needed to.
“Big enough to do the job, huh?” asked Kelvin calmly, in an effort to let them off the hook. He’d heard enough. Between the two Jo twins, they clearly had themselves an excellent chemist among the pair, whichever one they chose. Plus, they had a kid tough enough to handle the mission and that was even better. Either one would be an acceptable choice.
"Well, I guess we get the picture, huh, Beej? Sounds like we got ourselves a couple o' future scientists. Whaddya think?" He then joined some of the older boys out on the soccer pitch for a pick-up match while B.J. continued to lay back on the bleachers. A crowd of younger boys remained; choosing instead to spend the afternoon chatting with the scantily clad vixen while she held court, quizzing them about their lives and what they remembered about their parents. It gave her something to do while waiting.
********
Over the next four hours, staffers from Space Programme eventually whittled down the original sixty candidates suggested by the Jesuits to just six finalists. The crew of staffers and the six boys then moved up the road to Toronto to grab a hotel for a night or two. There they got to enjoy the high life staying in a fancy hotel, taking breaks to order room service and have it brought in by delightfully friendly maids and busboys who treated the young orphans like honored guests instead of lowly street urchins. The effect on their self-esteem was immediate: the boys enjoyed it immensely. None of them wanted to leave. Good thing, too, as there was no clear winner by day two.
By then, Kwang-Min and Young-Min were practically neck and neck in their exam scores. Neither appeared to have any apparent weaknesses or shortcomings. In every subject they were just about even – rarely got different answers and usually arrived at solutions to word problems in the same way. They were both clearly as smart as Shamiso and already had surpassed Oswaldo’s performance back in Texas. It was a dead heat between the Jo twins and no possible way to determine a frontrunner as testing continued.
Meanwhile, B.J. and Kelvin fully enjoyed their time off. Even called in to the Human Resources department at Magellan and requested to use up some of their accumulated flex-hours. Decided to make a little vacation out of it, basically. It wasn't necessary. Requested as assistants to the staffers sent by Space Programme, they were officially “on loan” from Magellan Aerospace “for as long as required,” they were told. Hearing that, the two immediately began to put out feelers for just where the action might be happening that night in Toronto! B.J. was in her element.
Within hours the young temptress found herself getting invited to a party put on by the gentlemen of the Toronto Wolfpack Rugby Club. There she ended up meeting and then partying most of the night with three (or was it four?) players out on the field at Lamport Stadium. She entertained the inebriated fellows for several hours before Toronto police finally arrived and told them to get dressed and leave. Not to be outdone, Kelvin fared rather well in her absence.
Initially Kelvin dragged the whole team of staffers along with him to that same party and met a girl who was tending bar while going to college at University of Toronto. They ended up spending the night together in Kelvin’s hotel room which he shared with another one of the European staffers. He’d been paired with a young Spaniard so that he and B.J. could spend the night in Toronto rather than making the drive back to Mississauga. The young staffer, son of a Spanish solar engineer, eventually awoke the next morning only to find the other side of their room in disarray, with panties and bra, jockey shorts and slacks, skirt and shirt and blouse and blankets - even bed sheets - strewn about like a tornado had struck during the night. He awakened to discover a naked girl lying passed out on the other bed; Kelvin curled up next to her with his fingers tucked snuggly into her crotch. The poor fellow must have wondered just how in the hell he’d slept through it all!
But as for B.J. … panty-less and hair disheveled, eyeliner smeared, she didn't get back to her hotel room until about 04:00. The still-tipsy brunette returned that morning to a silent hotel room she shared with a female staffer who at one point thought B.J. had been abducted, or perhaps something terrible had happened to her on her way back to the hotel. It made for interesting conversation the next morning.
“Mein Gott! I was so worried about you!” began the young German woman when B.J. staggered in just before dawn. "Was zum Teufel machst du da? I didn’t know where you went after the party,” she continued, her face showing genuine concern – as though the worrying had kept her up all night. Then she got a good whiff of B.J.’s body, all covered in dried sweat from both herself as well as her male companions from the night before. She got a curious look on her face.
“(Sniff-sniff) Well … I guess somebody had a good time last night at least,” she smirked comically, waving her hand in front of her face to erase the odor, then promptly went back to bed. She had to be up in two hours after all. B.J. only fluffed up her hair and grinned, too groggy to respond. She slept naked in her bed for at least four more hours after that. Hardly noticed the time go by, she was so worn out. Nearly missed the start of the 09:00 morning meeting with Kelvin and the rest of the staffers, where they would announce that it was still a “toss-up” between Kwang-Min and Young-Min Jo. In fact, at a quarter ‘til nine she was still rummaging about the room locating her outfit from the night before and rifling through her pockets to make sure she hadn’t lost her Government ID. That was something no one ever dared misplace – that and her Employee badge to get back onto campus over at Magellan. She did finally locate them though. Even found one unused condom in her pocket. This, she observed, was a pleasant surprise … not to mention a rarity.
“Hmmmph. Would you look at that? Such gentlemen,” she remarked to herself; remembering how the three (or was it four, I can't remember) rugby teammates all brought their own prophylactics to their little soirée out on the Rugby pitch. “I didn’t have to use my reserves for once,” she snorted humorously. No sign of her panties unfortunately. Likely they were still somewhere out in the middle of Lamport Field. Instead she donned her miniskirt and tanktop then scurried off to the conference room downstairs.
********
At the meeting, the consensus among the staffers was to go with Young-Min as a final choice. Kelvin chimed in with his thoughts on the matter.
“Actually, I’d say we take Kwang-Min, if you want my opinion,” said Kelvin, believing of course that everyone should be interested in his point of view. “He’s one tough little dude. The boys out there love him. He fixed a really big problem; one that was affecting – well I mean threatening all of them. And he’s got a really good head on his shoulders when it comes to creative solutions in desperate situations. I’d sure like having him along with me and the rest of the crew onboard the Santa Maria, that’s for sure.” His presumptuousness caught the attention – and suspicions - of several among the young staffers ... one in particular.
“Oh? So you mean you’re to be one of the selectees for the crew?” asked B.J.’s roommate from the night before. “I don’t believe they’ve announced any of those yet. Are you sure?” She then folded her hands and awaited the young fellow’s reply. B.J. had arrived only moments earlier, head still spinning from her wild time the night before. She interjected in typical 'B.J.' fashion.
“Yep, he’s pretty sure of himself, isn't he?” she quipped; glad that she'd snuck a swipe or two of her roommate's deodorant before rushing downstairs. The German staffer chuckled and nodded, realizing Kelvin was merely hoping for the best. But Kelvin was fiercely determined - however much B.J. tried downplaying it. Didn’t hesitate to defend his own logic.
“Hell, why not?” he retorted, “I’d make a damn good crewman, wouldn’t I?” Then he grinned confidently while the room broke up into smatterings of snorting laughter at the young man’s audacity. The young German smiled.
“Amerikanere,” she mused with a muffled chuckle. Americans: they were just like she’d always heard: brash and daring. Overconfident and yet charmingly reckless. Kelvin fit every stereotype she’d grown up picturing.
And while she was at it, what about B.J.? The gal she’d seen disappear from the party with a pack of drunken rugby players only to return to their hotel room six hours later smelling like … well, there was no way to describe it really. Grass from a football field among other things. Sweat and beer yeast as well. The impressionable young woman from southwestern Germany was now thoroughly amused with her first experience with Americans and truth be told was starting to grow rather fond of the two twenty-somethings: Kelvin the charming hunk with flowing blonde locks of hair; B.J. the buxom yet brilliant Junggesellin from Colorado.
The staffers eventually did settle on Young-Min Jo however, based on a few other factors they discussed including personality. “Potential compatibility with future crewmembers.” Things of that nature. Thus, despite Kelvin’s input to the contrary, they chose the other twin. Kwang-Min was to be informed his brother was going away, and once again everyone dreaded it. B.J.’s roommate explained it to them, revealing the “dirty part” of their job. The part they hated the most. The part they always avoided until the last possible moment: breaking the twins up.
"That, I'm afraid to say, is the easy part. Now for the ugly part," she went on to say. "Since you're here, we might as well tell you." Kelvin was quick with solutions as always, telling them to try and give the kid some hope.
“Break them up?" he clarified nonchalantly, as if this wasn't any big deal. B.J. remained silent, realizing how awful this was going to be. Kelvin didn't see it that way. "Nah, that's easy, guys. Y'all don't gotta worry 'bout that. It's real simple." All eyes were now upon him. "Kwang-Min made it to the end of the exam as well, didn't he? And completed all levels of the process? He’s now eligible for the GU program for gifted kids, ain’t he?” That was decent logic, everyone had to admit. Yes, most likely come his thirteenth birthday, or perhaps even sooner, Kwang-Min would be moved away from that nightmare of an orphanage and away from all the daily violence. Only Kelvin wasn't done. “Sometimes,” he added, “I’ve heard gifted kids get moved away from these places ... before it's too late.” Kelvin was merely spitballing at this point but to him, Kwang-Min certainly had a chance. “He tested right up there with Young-Min, right? Fuck … we can get him out of that shithole any time we want, can’t we? We're fuckin' Space Programme, right?”
B.J.’s roommate was quick to point out that there was no possible way to influence such a thing. Their prime directive from headquarters back in Darmstadt was quite clear on this.
“Nein. We are not to intervene … any of us,” cautioned the young female, “It’s against regulations.”
She said it almost sternly … but then her facial expression changed to that of embarrassment. The woman's name was Helga, they’d found out the day before. She was originally from and had grown up right in Darmstadt, where Space Programme headquarters was located. “We must make our selections then take the children with us back to … well, I can’t tell you where just yet of course.” She caught herself before revealing anything sensitive. Kelvin wasn’t yet a part of the crew after all and she had no idea what level of security clearance he had (if any). He was most likely nothing more than a 'möchte gerner' as they would say back home (a “wanna be”).
That said, she certainly got a kick out of the fearless American and wasn’t the least bit annoyed or put off by him. No one was really. Frankly he was a delight to be around. A real hoot! Greeted people like he’d known them all his life. Made sure they were having a good time the night before when the whole group went out for drinks. He was the life of the party. Created a good sense of Gemütlichkeit - a feeling of warmth and friendliness that inspired everyone to have fun together. Then he’d amazed them even further by sleeping with their waitress! But Helga had also taken a shine to the audacious B.J. - even if the young waif had scared the hell out of her the night before. From the moment she first met the sultry brunette and fell into the trap of asking B.J. what the letters in her name stood for, she was quite taken with the gal.
“B.J.? Are those initials for something?” Helga had asked naively. It was the morning before when B.J. was being introduced as Helga’s roommate for the night. “Barbara Josephine? Bobby Joe maybe?” B.J. only shook her head and smiled.
“Nuh uh….,” was her glib response. And even though it was with a group of young ladies listening in at the time, B.J. still had the chutzpah to continue with a naughty chuckle, “No honey … my real name is Ariel. That’s just something people like to call me. Something I’m kinda … good at … know what I mean? Something I like to do...?” It took the German only a second or so to process the joke, after which she laughed so hard she nearly peed her pants.
And maybe that’s why, when the two Americans bluntly asked her in the hallway at the end of the meeting, she gladly accepted their offer to go “hang out” with them the rest of the afternoon in their hotel room. “Go kill a few hours and maybe a few brain cells,” as B.J. put it. Told her no one would miss them as most everyone was heading down to the pool or grabbing a catnap to get over their hangovers from the night before. What’s more, B.J. said they had “marijuana, and plenty of it” and best of all … "think you'd be willing to try some?" Helga couldn't possibly say no.
“How can I resist such a kind offer?” she replied laughingly. “Warum nicht?” She was rapidly being seduced by her American hosts. These two were like characters from some old movie she might have seen as a child.
“Cool!” exclaimed B.J. She then took the young lady's hand and led her arm-in-arm upstairs like they were best buddies. Helga for her part giggled almost the whole way up the backstairs of the hotel. It was B.J.’s suggestion that they go that way.
“Better that we don’t have nobody seein’ us together,” she explained with a snicker.
Therefore after the kids were sent back to their hotel rooms to enjoy one last afternoon together and access all the free Ultravision, room service, and interactive video games they could stand, Kelvin and B.J., with Helga in tow, went back to get high together. Helga had only ever experienced hashish before, not marijuana, she told them in a low whisper (as though the room was wired for sound or something), and had never, ever tried genuine California Sensimilla. She found it to be most delightful, once they were inside with the door locked and Kelvin had whipped out a small glass pipe stuffed with goodies. Helga took the first hit.
“Aaaaah. Dass ist gut,” she began in German, then corrected herself. “I mean, this is some good shit, sorry.” B.J. - all showered up by this point and sitting naked on a towel on top of the bed with a second towel wrapped around her hair - merely patted her on the thigh.
“I understood ya’ baby,” she grinned. Buzzed slightly, Helga smiled and grasped B.J.’s hand. She was truly liking her new friends from America right about now. Felt like she could just be herself and let her hair down for once - something she rarely got to do with her colleagues from Space Programme. “Gut Gemütlichkeit,” she muttered. B.J. repeated the phrase.
"Goot...guh-moot-lick-kite."
Helga nodded.
They both giggled.
Emboldened, she then asked B.J. about her whereabouts the night before, and begged her to spill all the dirty details, as much as B.J. could recall. B.J., being the blunt and plain-speaking type, happily accommodated her. Told of meeting the group of athletes at the party, striking up a conversation, then being invited to their stadium where one of them “claimed he had a key to the equipment shed ‘r somethin’.” Eventually the gang of hunky ruggers deduced they could possibly “access the field itself,” she added, "give us room to spread out, one of 'em said". Thus, the idea sprang to life (“among other things,” joked B.J.) to take their party to the middle of the field and “make some memories together” as one of the muscled giants put it.
“They were great, all of them,” stated B.J. matter-of-factly. Kelvin snickered as he reloaded his pipe. “One was a little rough – too rough really,” she added, “had a really big cock and kept wanting me to deep throat him, but otherwise I guess they were pretty decent to me. Wore me out, that's for sure. Lived to tell the tale though, right?” Helga could only shake her head in dismay. Here was precisely the kind of girl she’d always been told NOT to be like, and all she could think of to say was, “Wow … what an adventure!” She meant it too. For B.J. was just the type of fearless floozy she could live vicariously through. What a treat it was listening to her! That said, it was a little too much. Her head filled with imagery of lovely B.J. getting gangbanged in the middle of a football field, on her hands and knees being driven into from behind, her mouth around yet another man's swollen penis, she turned her attention to B.J.’s counterpart from Virginia.
“So Kelvin, if you don’t mind me asking,” Helga sighed, “how is it you’re so sure you’ll be selected to the mission crew … the Santa Maria that is … have you applied?” She decided upon changing the subject (at least for the time being).
“Applied…? Uh, no ... not yet … but I’ve got a connection, see?” he said with a cough. He then detailed how they knew Günther’s father; and were planning on visiting the venerated scientist later that month back in Darmstadt. “Father of a friend of ours,” he boasted. “Got the inside track so to speak … if you know what I mean. Hey, maybe you know the guy.” He mentioned the name of Günther’s dad and asked if she was familiar with the man. Helga nodded emphatically. Apparently, the guy was terribly important.
“Ja,” replied Helga, smiling patiently. “I mean yes, that's our superior. Well, our boss's boss, I guess you'd say.” She then thought about it some more, and with the THC doing a rather fine job of loosening up her normally stoic demeanor, she added, “But this man you’re speaking of … he’s not involved with selection. He doesn’t even work with those people. Different department.” Kelvin looked temporarily deflated. He became visibly worried.
“Oh yeah?” he asked, euphoria fading and sounding concerned. B.J., being the brighter of the two, jumped in. Maybe they were barking up the wrong tree.
“So who DO we need to be talkin’ to, Schnucki?” And as she asked this, she put her arm around the young lady’s shoulder. Helga chuckled at her daring choice of words. Though it didn’t translate directly, “Schnucki” was basically a term of endearment; much like “sweetie pie” in America.
“Ah…well, mein Mann, for starters,” replied the woman, high on “Sensi” now and no longer hiding her once well-kept secret. Her spouse, it turned out, had gotten her the internship at Space Programme. He was a career employee, had been working there ten years, and they’d gotten married only two years prior. This was the longest they’d been apart the whole time they’d been married. Maybe the loneliness was affecting her … even if not, the Marijuana most certainly was. Whatever the reason she felt a sudden urge to help the two hilarious stoners. "My husband, I mean. He works in that section." The reaction was immediate.
“Fuck … you mean your husband works for Space Programme?” asked Kelvin, brightening with renewed confidence. “And he’s involved with the selection process? Seriously?” Helga smiled and leaned over onto B.J. who rather comically laid back onto the bed and pulled Helga down with her so that Helga was snuggled up against her drying, naked body.
“Ja! Even better,” she added with a snort, “It’s his job to prioritize the applicant files for the final selection process.” At this point she burst into a severe giggling attack which B.J. joined right in with. It was just the break they'd been looking for.
“Helga…” laughed B.J., “I just gotta say, honey. I’m so fuckin’ glad we met you.”
********
As luck would have it, Helga was even more valuable than they possibly could have imagined!
When they flew to Darmstadt later that year, B.J. and Kelvin - instead of having to book a hotel - were invited to stay with Helga and her husband Steffen at their apartment in the city. Went out on the town. Bought some hashish. Got high right out front of Space Programme headquarters while Steffen told Kelvin everything he knew about the process he’d undergo in order to make it onto the crew. Yet that wasn't all Steffen planned on doing for his wife's new friends from across the Atlantic. He also had a little surprise in store. Knowing what Kelvin was trying to achieve - and given what his young wife had told him regarding Kelvin's promiscuous sidekick B.J., he'd actually set up a date for her – a very special date in fact – with a man Steffen now had inside knowledge was a finalist for the position of captain on the return mission from Kapteyn B. Just as Helga had assured him, the lovely brunette had no objections.
“Woh…you mean this dude I’m goin’ out with…he’s gonna be captain?” exclaimed B.J., already glassy eyed from the hash they’d smoked, not the least bit concerned with how old the guy was or even what he looked like. "Well fuck yeah; I'm game!" Their bespectacled host hastened to clarify what he meant by the term "captain".
“Ja,” answered Steffen while Helga snickered mischievously. “One of them anyway. There are two phases to the mission, you see? Three, if all goes to plan.” He then stood and paced around excitedly, enjoying his buzz and detailing all he knew about the mission. The hashish had made him a bit loopy. “First … they will freeze half the crew, then travel to planet “B”.”
And when he described this part, he pretended to be a spacecraft. Seeing what he was up to, B.J. mimicked him playfully by imitating a rocket engine. Helga started laughing as she scooted up next to the crazy gal from Denver and joined in with the fun.
“Zat will take fourteen years in our time,” continued Steffen, “but only seven for the away crew ... verstanden?” He then froze in place while he let the girls continue with their comical rocket noises. “Then they will land on Kapteyn B and awaken all the other frozen crewmembers.” B.J. then pretended to be yawning and waking up, which Helga hastily tried copying, just to make it even zanier.
But Steffen was unflappable, continuing unabated with his story despite the hashish starting to interfere with his motor skills. “Those crewmembers … half of them zat is … they must stay behind and build a colony. The rest fly back home. As for the away crew, they will subsequently be cryogenically frozen for the return trip.” In reaction the two girls then began pretending like they were snoring in bed. Steffen concluded thusly: “Und das ist, dass dann. They arrive back on Earth, Aufgabe erfüllt ... mission accomplished.”
At the conclusion of his presentation, both girls applauded. B.J. whooped excitedly. Steffen bowed and smiled humbly. Kelvin for his part had sat riveted throughout and could picture the entire operation unfolding in his mind. Looks like I gotta be on the away team, he began to realize. If so, perhaps HE would be one of those who first got to set foot on an alien planet. That would make him one of Earth’s greatest explorers. He finally spoke up.
“That’s awesome man! Fuckin’ awesome. Thanks!” exclaimed Kelvin, his voice echoing off the now-empty office building in front of them. A group of passersby, noticing he was speaking English and hearing his American accent, chuckled as they scurried past.
“Ja. Bitte schön,” Steffen replied. “You’re welcome. Natürlich.” He then returned to sit with his giggling wife on the grass next to the others, fumbling through his pockets for his vaporizer so they could smoke some more hash. It was now B.J.'s turn for questions.
“So then … Steffen,” said B.J., now getting back to business and anticipating her special “role” in this evening’s mission to get Kelvin a spot on the crew, “Where’s this dude I gotta fuck? I mean it’s cool and all - anything for my buddy Kelvin … but where do we find the guy? Am I goin’ to his place or…?” Helga blushed. Somehow it made her feel dirty hearing it put that way.
“Oh no, my dear,” corrected Helga. “We’re all going out together later ... meeting him for drinks later tonight, actually. After that, well, I guess it’s sort of up to you but….” To this B.J. scoffed.
“Oh, I get it. No problem at all. Natürlich, as they say.” Then she added with a worried tone, “Wait … he ain’t married is he? 'Cause I ain't fuckin' some guy who's out cheatin' on his wife. That's where I draw the line.”
In response Steffen laughed for the very first time that evening. Really laughed too; and in a whiny high-pitched giggle that reverberated down the cobblestone streets of downtown Darmstadt. This was somehow hilarious to the young scientist.
“Nein!” exclaimed Steffen, still cackling. "Divorced … three years ago.” It was amazing to hear B.J.'s only hard limit was adultery. "His name is Steinhart Stehter ... Captain Steinhart Stehter. Darmstadt's most eligible bachelor!" Helga started to giggle as well. B.J. couldn't help but do the same; even if she had to assume Steffen was exaggerating. Sounded more like some horny old man with a beer belly and a receding hairline. That said, she'd given her word.
“I see,” chuckled B.J., putting things together as she turned toward Kelvin. “Then don’t wait up for me, dude. If he’s recently divorced, I’ll be gone all night, I bet.” Kelvin felt inclined to show his appreciation in advance.
“Thanks for takin’ one for the team, Beej,” he said, reaching over and patting her on the shoulder. Sensing B.J. might be feeling put upon, Helga interjected.
“Ah, but it’s not so terrible, my friend. He’s quite dashing; Captain Stehter is. A real Arschloch on occasion, yes, but he’s quite dreamy looking, many would say. Handsome. In great shape. You’ll have lots of fun I promise.”
B.J. gave her a hug. After that awful flight from Toronto, she was terribly pent up. Jet-lagged; but rearing to go. Arschloch or not ... beer belly and balding head notwithstanding ... she was more than ready for a good lay. As for whether her upcoming "date" later that night might be capable of delivering the goods ... give her what she was needing? A lonely, middle-aged, divorcé ... no doubt with a huge sex drive? Highly likely! In fact, all the better! Fewer formalities, she figured. He’d know exactly what he wanted and exactly how to get it done.
********
It worked pretty much according to plan after that. Steffen led the gang to the nearby 'bahnhoff' and they travelled by train across the city to a pub where they’d agreed to meet with Captain Stehter. To B.J.'s delight, Helga had described the man well. He was a dandy, no doubt about that. Tall. Muscled. Bushy head of hair with streaks of silver. Polite and endearing toward B.J., who melted like a stick of butter in a frying pan at the sound of his sexy German accent. He was engaging and enjoyable toward Kelvin as well, who pumped him for information about his past and shared stories of his own glorious sports history which enthralled the future ship captain because truth be told: Steinhart Stehter was a big, big fan of North American Megaball. Even liked some of the same teams!
“Bro-mance,” smirked B.J., in reference to Kelvin - who had that look in his eye like he had just been voted Most Valuable Player in the state championship game. “Maybe you two should get a room,” she joked, slowly losing patience. But after another round of beer for the guys and wine for the girls, the party of five eventually made it out onto the streets - and that’s when B.J. finally made her move. Kelvin had done all he could, she figured. Now it was time to do her part; what’s more she’d waited long enough already! Helga had been right: the older German was quite handsome. All she needed now was to find some way to get the guy alone.
Thinking fast, she subtly mentioned to the man as they were walking along, that she was hungry for a "good 'ole German style “Katerfrühstück” as she’d heard it called: a hangover breakfast in other words. When the tall German hastened to propose this to the others, she gently pulled him aside and said, “No Schnucki, just us. Breakfast for two. Whaddya say ... can you cook?” The man stood shocked, but only for a moment, regaining his composure when he realized her meaning. The young brunette's intentions were quite apparent. He grinned slyly.
“Aber zicher,” he replied in a husky bedroom voice. "Of course". After that he hailed a cab; gallantly bidding a pleasant good night to the rest of the gang before ducking inside with his lovely prize. Steffen, Helga, and Kelvin went on without them. B.J. didn’t return to the Schwarz’s flat until just after seven the next morning ….
Of course, Steffen and Helga had left for work already when she finally arrived via taxi, worn out and exhausted, shortly after dawn the next day. He’d put her through the ringer, the captain had. And she showed it too. Worked her over good. Three long, drawn out, and quite thorough love-making sessions she’d endured. All of them delightful, she had to admit, but by the third time … frankly she was just hoping he’d finish so she could finally get some sleep! Kind of hoped he wouldn’t desire another go at her when they got up the next day. Which he did; thus explaining her late arrival. Alas, it was only Kelvin remaining at the apartment by the time she showed up, and it was also a both distressed and excited Kelvin who answered the door when she buzzed in downstairs.
“Well … how was it … am I uh…?” he began, wondering if the man might be counted upon to recommend his selection. B.J. merely yawned and gave a feeble thumbs-up sign.
“Relax, asshole,” she replied sleepily. “You’re in.”
This concludes tonight's podcast of Twin Paradox Book One, Chapter Eight: Katerfrühstück . I hope you enjoyed it. Watch for episode nine; which I'll be posting very soon.
I wrote Twin Paradox books one, two, and three, four years ago under the pseudonym Purple Hazel; and each book in the trilogy is organized into parts. What you've just heard is the third chapter of Part Two: Pioneers and Explorers. The entire trilogy can be found by googling Twin Paradox ... Purple Hazel. Buy it today on Amazon; or if you prefer, simply listen to me reading all three books.
Also, and don't forget, my latest full-length novel ... Deathwalker Colony ... is available right now in E-book format and can be downloaded today on Amazon.com, along with the first two books in the Rijel 12 Series, The Rise of New Australia and Return of Anarchy. A link to these as well as some of my other works can be found in the transcript for this episode.
I'm King Everett Medlin. Thanks for tuning in.
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