Tonight we continue with Book Two of the Twin Paradox trilogy: Part Five, Celebrities and Pariahs. In this next installment, our three intrepid space twins, Ozzie, Shamiso, and Young-Min Jo finally get to learn the full story of what happened with their identical siblings Praxido, Rudo, and Kwang-Min Jo.
Meanwhile, Steinhart takes the fall for Santa Maria's failure to link up with Nautilus, leading to his discharge from Space Programme.
Tonight we continue with Book Two of the Twin Paradox trilogy: Part Five, Celebrities and Pariahs. In this next installment, our three intrepid space twins, Ozzie, Shamiso, and Young-Min Jo finally get to learn the full story of what happened with their identical siblings Praxido, Rudo, and Kwang-Min Jo.
Meanwhile, Steinhart takes the fall for Santa Maria's failure to link up with Nautilus, leading to his discharge from Space Programme.
Hello, and welcome back to Season Two of 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. Go online and check it out! 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.
Tonight we continue with Book Two of the Twin Paradox trilogy: Part Five, Celebrities and Pariahs. In this next installment, our three intrepid space twins, Ozzie, Shamiso, and Young-Min Jo finally get to learn the full story of what happened with their identical siblings Praxido, Rudo, and Kwang-Min Jo. Meanwhile, Steinhart takes the fall for Santa Maria's failure to link up with Nautilus, leading to his discharge from Space Programme.
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 and listen to me read them to you. So let's keep it rolling.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Twin Paradox, Part Five: Celebrities and Pariahs. Chapter Twenty-Seven, The Happiest of Endings ....
“Good morning my name is Monika,” said the bubbly German woman with a kindly demeanor, as she welcomed Shamiso, Young-Min, and Oswaldo into her rather Spartan little office inside Space Programme headquarters. “I’ll be your Reorientation Counselor today.” She had a bright, engaging smile and seemed like it was her personal delight to be assigned to these three as a case worker. It was going to be an exciting day.
As the three space twins would soon learn, Space Programme had been closely monitoring the lives of their Earth counterparts Kwang-Min Jo, Rudo Kachote, and Práxedis Guerrero. Even since the sad passing of the program’s original founder, who was also B.J.’s and Kelvin’s old friend Günther’s dear father, the scientists assigned with keeping track of the experiment had watched from afar as the three Earth twins struggled through their lives. This was something they'd not expected to hear.
“Space Programme has assigned me with helping you get re-acclimated to living in modern society after being gone so long. There’s so much to teach you really. We certainly can’t cover it in a single session. However, I thought you might like to start out by learning about what has happened to your twin brothers and sister in your absence. Would that interest you?”
Naturally the three former crew members had no objection to doing just that! They were quite anxious in fact. During the voyage they’d only caught a brief glimpse of what their siblings had gone on to achieve. Even what they thought they knew was vague at best. For instance:
Ozzie had delighted in hearing of a Megaball star named Ranger Guerrero who had led one of his boyhood favorite teams to a league championship. Shamiso had heard of a pop music Diva named Rudo Love, whom Ozzie thought might be her twin sister, now a superstar singer. Young-Min Jo had heard there was a maverick drug company called MinPharma that made him think it might be named after his devious but intelligent twin brother. However, that had been years ago when they’d heard about these things from the lone Earth transmission picked up by Santa Maria inside Kapteyn B’s orbit.
They were all three correct as it would turn out. Monika eagerly led the three young people to a bank of computers where she assigned them to private desks to allow them to look up information on their siblings. It was quite eye-opening! Shamiso was able to find out about the inspiring rise to prominence of her more outgoing sister Rudo. Ozzie was able to learn of the smashing success that his brother “Ranger” Guerrero had achieved in his stellar sports career. And finally Young-Min Jo was able to read up on the amazing but controversial career of his brother Kwang-Min.
Sure enough, Rudo Kachote had broken into the music scene as a mere teenager, read Shamiso. Working as a backup singer and eventually gaining status as a lead singer covering other writers' songs, she transformed herself over the years into the stage persona “Rudo Love” and broke into the pop music charts for the first time with her catchy single “Kiss Kiss Love”. From there she grew to achieve mainstream acceptance by both record companies and the public alike.
Downloads of her follow-up hits like “Dawn of Love” and “Club Girl” struck a chord with fans due to her unique song stylings and dynamic stage presence. Her powerful voice and stunning live performances only served to add to her fame. Her last tour was reported to have netted millions of Euros. Royalties from downloads had enabled her to maintain a luxurious lifestyle; something well-documented by the media ... among other things.
She seemed to have a new love interest every year. Married only once; but it was annulled after only nine months due to an incident during which her new husband reportedly beat her and threatened her with a kitchen knife in their swank London apartment before authorities arrived to arrest him. Since then she’d purportedly been living on the penthouse floor of a fancy London hotel downtown – where ironically (she’d once admitted to a reporter) she used to be a maid. Her early life however she rarely commented on, the biography went on to say.
And Práxedis Guerrero? Searching under that name brought up little in the way of information. Just some long-forgotten Mexican revolutionary from the Nineteenth Century who’d died in a heroic battle against Federalist forces. But when Ozzie typed in “Ranger” Guerrero, he immediately got a screen filled with search results. Ranger Guerrero had been a sports sensation back in the late 2090’s and early 22nd century.
“Holy cow, would you look at this?” he muttered to himself.
Drafted by Dallas from the University of Oklahoma, where he was a consensus All-America Center Back, Ranger went on to lead the Wranglers to gridiron glory, just like Ozzie had heard years before. In fact, he seemed to be viewed by many in the press – and even among former players he’d faced – as a bona fide sports legend. Since going pro, he’d achieved league records for total yardage (by this time surpassed it was noted, but still remarkable at the time), passing yards in a single game, and of course the all-time record for consecutive games with both a rushing AND passing touchdown (or “try” as they called it in Megaball). That record in particular, most sportswriters believed would never be broken.
Ozzie looked at pictures of his twin brother through the years and saw how he’d aged. It was amazing seeing a man identical to him growing up in the sports media spotlight, still flashing that same crooked-toothed grin he’d seen so many times when they were kids. The sport had aged his body significantly. He seemed to walk in a sort of shuffle step during those last few years of his career due to horrendous knee injuries he’d endured – maintaining heavy conditioning and rehabilitation programs in the offseason just to get himself ready for the following year’s schedule, it was said. But alas, Father Time, as well as the inherent dangers of risking his health in such a violent, unforgiving sport had finally caught up to him.
Ozzie read that his twin had finally “hung up his cleats” after the 2109 season and called it quits. A scheduled press conference with reporters to announce his departure was cancelled, but a written statement to the media confirmed his decision to depart the league for good. Dallas had already replaced him by then anyway with a new Center Back and Ranger had spent most of the 2109 campaign on the sideline helping the offensive coordinator signal in plays to the offense. Nevertheless, to this day he was considered one of greatest to ever play the game.
Meanwhile, Young Min got to learn all about his talented, ambitious, and some would even say “ruthless” brother Kwang-Min Jo.
Kwang-Min Jo had been a trailblazer, no question about it. Though little was reported about the 34-year old executive’s mysterious origins (news stories merely stated that he was born of Korean parents who’d fled to Canada after a bloody and brutal civil war), Kwang-Min “burst onto the scene" with aggressive marketing and acquisition tactics, buying up fledgling drug companies and repackaging previously mediocre-selling brands to achieve stellar sales numbers. His tactics weren’t always deemed ethical even by modern standards, Young-Min read. But his results spoke for themselves. He established a vast distribution empire in only a few short years and now commanded a solid market share in products such as sleep aids, male enhancements, mood boosters, antidepressants, anti-anxiety drugs, pain-killers, and a host of others.
Building his distribution network however was only the beginning. His leveraged buyouts of rival companies had propelled the status of his comparatively tiny drug company MinPharma into that of a major player. That said, his personal life remained a mystery.
Reclusive and withdrawn, he tended to surround himself with polished spokespersons and dashing representatives who continually painted a rosy picture of the corporation once the firm’s stock went public. His domicile – really more of a gated compound like some top billing movie star might possess – only served to make the man seem even more enigmatic. All anyone seemed to know about him is that he ran the entire operation from a large corporate office building cordoned off behind imposing outer walls just outside downtown Toronto.
Few ever saw the man, and for that matter there were few pictures ever taken of him. Video footage, wherever Young-Min could find it, would sometimes show the reclusive fellow slipping past reporters to an awaiting limousine and being whisked away down the streets of major cities where he’d just concluded negotiations or provided testimony in one of the assorted lawsuits his firm had faced over the years.
What’s more, he was quite less than popular with his industry counterparts it came to be known; sort of like a rogue CEO who was not the least bit interested in being chummy with his rivals, many of whom he butted heads with in the pharmaceutical products arena. He didn’t seem to concern himself with it. Seemed like he considered them all to be nothing more than despised enemies in a war for absolute control of the industry - and that only served to make him more isolated in his daily existence as a man few really knew that much about.
But what struck Young-Min deeply was just how old the 34-year-old appeared to be. Only ten years older than him biologically speaking, he seemed to be far more aged and haggard to Young-Min in both his face and the way he comported himself. Didn’t seem to have aged gracefully at all. Still a bushy black head of hair. No signs of hair-loss. Yet he moved like some middle-aged Asian man with a stooped walk – as if he’d been working for years hunched over a desk and glaring at computer screens for hours-on-end reading financial reports or studying market trends. That’s what it seemed like to Young-Min Jo anyway.
It appeared as though his brother had been constantly consumed with building his empire, at the expense of living a healthy, active life. No family of his own, it was said. No wife and kids. Nothing officially recorded that is. Obviously a man married to his career and interested in nothing but power. Growing his business to greater and greater heights with no regard for all the potential joys a man might gain from living a full life.
Young-Min took notice of this and it made him take a long look at his own life onboard the Santa Maria all those years in space. Made him wonder at the similarities between the two, even if Young-Min Jo had taken quite a different approach to relationships among fellow crew members. On the contrary he’d been quite popular and made major contributions to the success of the ship’s mission. This person he was viewing on screen? He seemed more like a guy who’d forsaken the wondrous experiences life really had to offer, all for the pursuit of wealth and (for lack of a better word) greed.
Then again, Young-Min had never found love or found much use for it during his time out there in space. Missed out on a lot, even when opportunities for this abounded all around him. It almost left the young man feeling sad that he’d allowed himself to be so isolated emotionally, embracing his valued role but never taking the time to get into the social life of the ship whenever he’d had the chance. And there’d been plenty of chances to do so, if he’d only participated.
Eventually however, the silence in the little computer room was shattered as the three twins sat listening to audio files attached to their computer news clips. They were all wearing ear buds by now so they could listen privately to news reports, music recordings, or in some cases video interviews with their now-famous siblings.
“Marbles ‘n conkers!” exclaimed Shamiso suddenly. She’d ripped out her ear buds and tossed them onto the little desk in front of her. “Bloody bonkers! I mean just look at my crazy sister!” she yelled out, followed by smacking Ozzie on his arm to get his attention. “Do you realize … I mean look at this, Love.”
By then Ozzie was lost in thought. He’d grown introspective at what he’d been reading about his now world-famous brother – not unlike Shamiso’s sister Rudo had become - only so terribly difficult to bear for a young man like Oswaldo who’d dreamed of the very same things as a child. Now his brother was living that very same fantasy-come-true. He startled out of his malaise, pulled out his ear buds as well, and responded with “Huh … what ya’ sayin’ Meeso?” The poor girl couldn't contain herself.
“She’s a real piece of work, my sis’,” continued Shamiso, not even looking over at her boyfriend, who up to then was becoming gradually more jealous and depressed watching video highlights of his brother in action during college at Oklahoma, on into his years with the Wranglers in the Professional Megaball Association. Shamiso was oblivious to this, naturally.
“Fucking incredible I tell you. Sings like a bird. Sells out concert halls. Sells millions of downloads. Makes a fortune. And yet here she is … dating nothing but muscle-bound hampton wicks. Goes through ‘em like toilet paper. Strings ‘em along like a parade of underwear models – in fact one of these blokes actually was an underwear model, it looks like. Bloody ridiculous. All that talent. All that money. But can’t find ‘erself one good guy to settle down with. She sure needs a good talkin’ to … ‘n I know just who needs ta’ give it.”
Ozzie hummed distractedly. He was only half-listening as he watched video of Ranger Guerrero streaking down a sideline in his crimson college uniform, chased by desperate defenders with no hope of catching him. Shamiso quickly picked up on the noticeably saddened demeanor of her normally upbeat lover. It was never like Oswaldo to get down about anything – at least not for long. Never afraid or intimidated. Never dismayed. Not Ozzie. It was always he who had to talk Shamiso off the ledge when she’d get sideways about things. Only this time he seemed consumed. Something was really eating at him.
“Oy … what’s wrong crumpet?” she asked gently, moving her chair closer to his and gripping his forearm, rubbing it softly. “You’re upset ain’t ya’?” Ozzie shook his head and tried brushing it off casually.
“Nah, I’m okay. Just watchin’ Práxido – or maybe I should start callin’ him Ranger I reckon – tearin’ up the field. See? This is him back in the 2097 OU-Texas game. Look at him level this dude from Texas.” He quickly switched videos to one showing OU on defense. “Hmmph. Trucked ‘im. Knocked the ball loose ‘n ever-thang.”
Ozzie shook his head and half-smiled. Shamiso saw the darkened look on his face however. Saw how it was gnawing at him.
“Wait,” he continued, still mesmerized with the imagery. “Watch it again in slow motion. Jars it loose. Then…“ and when he said this he pointed a big long index finger at the screen and added, “… recovers the fumble too. Hah! Can you believe that? Hell, we used to hit like that back in … well, back when we was playin’….” He trailed off at that point like he was once again lost in thought. Shamiso wouldn’t let him torment himself any longer.
“Hey … now stop this right now. I know what you’re doing ‘n it ain’t fair. You’re jealous of your brother, aren’t you?” she asked, squeezing and then patting his forearm in a motherly fashion. She knew her man well. Knew he’d had no “mum” growing up. Hadn’t seen her since he was two. Never had the nurturing of a mother – nor the occasionally-needed scolding. Shamiso loved to set him straight, and he didn’t mind it one bit when she did. Loved it. Twice her size, a full head taller than her, hands that could wrap completely around her upper arm and grip it like a pole, feet so big she could stand on them like water skis, arms as big-around as her thighs – probably wider - especially at the biceps which were like grapefruits, chest so sinewy and well-developed that she might bounce a coin off of it (if she had one), yet all he really, really needed in the world was a stern woman to love and care for him. Nag him. Encourage him. Berate him. And call him out from time to time when he was being stubborn.
“Yeah. A bit,” Ozzie confessed. “Can’t help it I guess. It’s different for me ya’ see? I mean he’s right up ‘ere on that screen … doin’ what we always dreamed of doin’ when we was kids. Runnin’, hittin’, throwin’, scorin’. ‘N doin’ it all in front of 120,000 screamin’ fans. Hell, that coulda been me – or – well – maybe we’d be doin’ that on the same field together, I don’t know. Shit. It’s frustratin’, let me tell ya’.” Then he sighed uncomfortably and smirked like some little boy who didn’t get the gift he asked Santa Claus to bring him for Christmas.
“Now that’s a load of Richard the Third right there,” she admonished. “You - God! I mean come off of it Love, seriously. He’s out there prancing around in tight pants knocking seven bells outa some poor bastard with a bloody cow’s head on his bloody football helmet, while you – shite - you’re a fucking space pioneer. Bly-me … a bloody astronaut you are. You were the first to reach the beach remember? Or have you managed to forget racing Kelvin across the sand to the shoreline back on Kapteyn B?”
“It’s a steer actually. Longhorn steer,” muttered Ozzie dryly, still looking at the screen but nodding toward her politely.
“A what?” asked Shamiso, not realizing what he was referring to just yet.
“Longhorns. They’re the Texas Longhorns, Meeso. Big rival for OU. Me and Práxido always wanted to grow up 'n be Oklahoma Sooners someday and go down to play Texas in Dallas during the State Fair.”
Hearing this, Shamiso suddenly became livid. She wasn’t sure if he was being humorous, sarcastic, or a complete dumbass. But the unnecessary clarification regarding the University of Texas helmet logo was just enough to set her off.
“FUCK THE TEXAS LONGORNS OKAY? I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT THE BLOODY BALLPLAYERS!!!” By then even Young-Min Jo had snapped out of his very similar malaise and began laughing. He felt inclined to intervene. Pulled out his ear buds and joined in with the fray.
“She’s right, Oz,” Young-Min interjected. “You’ve got a lot to be proud of. What you accomplished – what we all did up there in space. Out there on Kapteyn B? I mean, they might be big tough Megaball players, but hey … look at what we did together, the three of us, and for the good of mankind? We built a space colony goddammit.”
He next went on to describe just how nice they had it now that they were back on Earth. By now of course they’d all heard about the deal Space Programme was offering returning crewmembers from the Santa Maria: one year Shore Leave ... one full year’s pay - up front – deposited into bank accounts already established for them. They’d have twelve months to live it up – and what’s more they could go anywhere they wanted in the world, not costing them a single Euro.
“Now look at us? Seriously. We got money. We’re getting those official government passes like GU officials get. Free travel. Free lodging. Free meals at military installations. And … we get a year to go track down our twin brothers and Shamiso’s sister up in London. That guy there? Your brother Práxedis? What’s he got? Messed up knees and maybe some nice house in the suburbs of Dallas or Houston, right? Sits around and watches Sunday sports broadcasts and misses playing. Drinks himself into a stupor. Maybe goes ‘n gets a job as a broadcaster when his money starts to run out, you figure?”
Young-Min moved closer by scooting his chair up to where he could look at a facial photo of Ranger Guerrero being interviewed by a reporter.
“Second thought … maybe not broadcasting. Jeez, I can’t see how, even if he wanted to honestly. Look at that mug, will ya’? He’s even uglier than you - now that he’s an old broken-down has-been. Probably ’ll end up selling cars or something.”
Ozzie started to chuckle. Young-Min was one of the few people who could talk to him like that. He wasn’t much bigger than Shamiso actually, so it certainly wasn’t because he could stand up to the big Texan. Heavens no. It’s just that Young-Min had won Ozzie’s respect many, many times over during the space mission and Ozzie loved him like a second brother. Would never let any harm come to him. Would be loyal to him all his life no matter what the circumstances. That’s just the way Ozzie was; thus Young-Min Jo could say any damn thing he wanted to in his presence. Besides that, Young-Min’s comments were quite astute – as well as hilarious. Shamiso giggled and cackled right along with the two.
“Hey, let me make it easy for you Love,” said Shamiso when she finally stopped laughing. “We’ve got all this money now. Free travel and lodging wherever we wanna go, right?”
Young-Min nodded, “Yep. Anywhere. We’re getting busted back down to Ensign and when we return to service in a year we’ll be on a lower pay grade, but hey … we’ll only have to serve ten more years, they’re saying, and we can retire with full benefits. That means a pension, healthcare, full dental, vision care … everything.”
Shamiso got to the point. “Right. All that and a bag of crisps. So … Ozzie … and you too Bones (she still loved calling him by his old nickname) … what say, you both go back home - to Texas and Canada – and find your brothers? Me, I’ll go up to London and find my crazy Sis’ before she gets into any more man troubles. We’ll all link up later - decide what we’re gonna do with our lives. Whaddya say to that, huh?”
Ozzie shrugged his shoulders then nodded passively. He knew that was probably best. Young-Min merely said, “Fuck yeah. I can’t wait to meet up with Kwang-Min – now that he’s a rich business tycoon. That’ll be so fucked up, man! We never had money. Last time we saw each other we were poor, broke-ass orphans.” Shamiso snickered. It fascinated her as well thinking back to what it was once like living in that London orphanage as a little girl. Then another thought occurred to her.
“And by the way Bones, if we don’t come back here,” continued Shamiso, gradually lowering her voice, “what happens then? I mean if we don’t come back to Space Programme. What’ll they do with us?” Young-Min’s eyes widened. It had never occurred to him not to obey orders; never crossed his mind not to return within 12 months and report back for duty like they’d been told.
“God,” he said, “Well I guess we just resign then … or file for a discharge maybe, I don’t know. I’m sure they’ll tell us soon enough. It can’t be any better of a deal than Steinhart got.” When he said this, the other two twins vigorously nodded in acknowledgment. This was a fairly accurate assessment.
For just as Steinhart had feared, as well as predicted, it was he who eventually had to take the fall. In fact both he and Captain Berwick were officially disciplined. Berwick was reduced in rank from captain to commander and reassigned to the crew of a lowly mining transport. Steinhart unfortunately was forced to resign his commission and leave Space Programme entirely. Alas, if no one could be the hero in this space tragedy, someone most certainly had to be the scapegoat.
The only person who seemed to get off clean was Luigi Cadorna and that was truly ironic in that it was he who urged Captain Timofeyevich to ignore what would have turned out to be a message pod with new coordinates for intercepting the Santa Maria. Had they but done so, things would have turned out much, much differently. But because of this, Nautilus was now three years behind schedule in relieving and resupplying the second batch of colonists still stranded back there on Kapteyn B. Only God could really know how they’d fared; and that by the way was the really devastating part of the case against Steinhart. Essentially, because they’d missed the rendezvous point, did not wait to be picked up by Nautilus, and had to be rescued later with a special mission just to go retrieve them, then someone had to bear the blame.
Steinhart naturally, being the way he was, completely understood why it had to be him: "When the unthinkable happens on your watch, then it is whomever was in charge at the time who has to take responsibility. One person must be accountable. That’s the way it works in the military. Every military everywhere really. When lives are at stake it’s the leader who must face the music when something goes terribly wrong."
Yes Steinhart bore up bravely to the decision of the board of inquiry and quietly delivered his resignation without protest. He then faded away into history, while Thomas Berwick bore up honorably to his demotion. He obediently took the assignment as first mate on a mining transport preparing to journey to the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter to exploit an ore discovery made on Ceres. Not surprisingly, mining companies had absolutely no problem hiring him. He obviously knew his stuff, and had a reputation for being popular with his subordinates.
Meanwhile Luigi Cadorna (as usual) got off “scot-free”. He returned to his mundane little desk job in Noordwijk where he could no longer annoy the staff back in Darmstadt. Crawled back into his little hole in the ground. Withdrew from the public spotlight. Oh yes, he’d gotten his wish. He’d devastated the careers of his former superiors just to preserve his own. And for that matter, everyone assumed that’s just what he’d set out to do. He’d won out over his former rivals and watched them both get disgraced. Yet to most of his colleagues at Space Programme it was Luigi himself who became the true pariah in this tragic saga. Whatever designs he may have had regarding a spectacular career in Space Programme; they were never to be.
However there was something else in store for good old Steinhart. Something quite delightful in fact. He received a rather pleasant surprise when he took his lumps and tendered his resignation letter. Space Programme generously paid him all back pay owed to him – based on his rank as Captain no less. That turned out to be twenty-four years’ worth of salary! Despite his misfortune, he was now a rich man.
Indeed he may have been disgraced and discredited - dishonored and besmirched of his stellar reputation as a ship’s captain - but he ended up with a veritable war chest of money when it was all said and done. He and B.J. could simply run away together, drop out of society for good, and go make a new life for themselves wherever they wanted to go.
B.J. for her part, resigned her commission the same day. Frankly she saw no use in pursuing things further. Her whole reason for applying for the mission to Kapteyn B had been in response to Steinhart’s urgings. She’d never be able to stand working for Space Programme without him.
“I’m done with this shit,” she exclaimed proudly. “I go where he goes,” she then added, pointing to her lover as he turned in his ID.
No one blamed her. Just like Kelvin and many others from the crew who saw no more future in a career with Space Programme, B.J. simply walked away for good. Took a lump sum distribution; the equivalent of ten years’ back pay, and bid adieu. That was the deal that others got too by the way, who chose to resign their commissions instead of taking the 12 months’ paid leave. Everyone on the crew who’d received promotions in rank were immediately demoted to Ensign, so accepting 10 years’ worth of salary based on Ensign O-1 pay grades meant a far less generous paycheck. But so what? It was still a healthy chunk of change!
Many boasted of starting their own businesses or becoming full time investors. Some returned to former employers and tried to get their old jobs back – if they still existed. Kelvin for one proclaimed he was going to pursue a business opportunity on the west coast of North America developing undersea farms growing basil, strawberries and lettuce; along with sea kelp. Meanwhile Steinhart Stehter, always the aficionado of pirate legends and stories of buccaneers raiding and pillaging trade ships in the Caribbean, simply packed up what few belongings he had in storage and made his way to … of all places … Mexico! What’s more, he eventually travelled there with his new bride.
Yes, he and B.J. got married in a private ceremony back in Darmstadt. Their plans were then to travel to Merida on the Yucatan Peninsula. Their ultimate destination? A tiny island system called Arrecife Alacranes, also known as Scorpion Reef. There they would purchase a small hotel on the island of Isla Pérez, using connections among the now retired men and women Steinhart had once worked with at Space Programme, as well as cashing in on his temporary fame. On Isla Pérez he told former colleagues he looked forward to a splendid existence on the tiny stretch of habitable land where he could take tourists on sport fishing junkets and dock luxury sailboats in its marina. He also bought a nice little yacht (a ninety-two-footer!) for him and B.J. to travel back and forth to nearby Merida for supplies.
That was perhaps the happiest of endings anyone could hope for among the crewmembers who continued to support him - of which there were many. Ozzie, Shamiso, and Young-Min attended their wedding and got one last chance to thank the man for all he’d done. Not surprisingly, the ceremony was packed – and the reception drew nearly a hundred people!
“Well Captain, yer sher gonna have a good ole time on that little island you done bought yerself down in Mexico. Think you kin handle the heat?” asked Ozzie at their wedding reception. He’d gotten rather drunk on German beer for the first time in his life (never having tried alcohol before as he’d been in space ever since he was ten years old). The ceremony had drawn quite a crowd. Well-wishers mainly. Old friends. It was a great opportunity to network and rub shoulders with potential new customers for his resort. Steinhart politely corrected him.
“No Lieutenant, hahah. Didn’t buy it. Just leased it from the Mexican Provincial Navy. They have a naval base there to monitor drug shipments coming in from South America. There’s even a lighthouse to warn ocean-going freighters of the reef nearby. Pretty dangerous for big ships.” Steinhart had been downing glasses of spiced rum all night. That was his favorite indulgence from years past. It tasted fantastic after so long up in space with nothing to imbibe but filtered water, which always smelled like a sweaty tennis shoe and tasted only slightly better than one.
But as for the heat, he was more than willing to endure the harsh climate of the barely habitable island, just over 130 km north of the Yucatan coast. It was just about as far away as one could get from civilization and still maintain some sort of existence. He could only hope some of the rich Space Programme retirees in attendance that night would make their way down to stay at his small inn which had facilities for up to 40 guests. It had to import food from the mainland every week just to function. Had to share electricity with the Mexican naval base on the other side of the island too.
“We’ll manage alright, I would wager. Work on our tans. B.J. is looking forward to a primarily seafood diet. Says it’ll do me some good. Wants to keep me around a little while you know?” he added with a grin, patting his belly comically. B.J. was across the room chatting it up with ten or fifteen old friends from the Santa Maria who’d made their way to Darmstadt - or were still living in the area. As always, she was holding court.
“Y’all be sure ‘n come out ta’ see us there okay?” she urged them. She knew it was a tall order for those who were still on leave from Space Programme. She knew some were yet deciding if they’d be returning to service when the twelve month furlough ended … or return to their home countries to start their lives over. They could travel for free to Mexico using their military passes, sure, but they’d have to get transportation out to the island unless Steinhart’s yacht wasn’t in use. Shamiso jumped at the chance.
“Oh yeah … blinding!” she exclaimed in her cockney accent. “We’ll have to make it to see you someday, Ozzie and me. He ain’t afraid of anything, that boy. I might get frightened by the waves if the seas are choppy. Never been on a ship before. Not on an ocean I mean.”
“Nah,” B.J. said reassuringly, “Don’t have to worry yerself about that honey. You just get a message to us whenever you get to Merida and we’ll come pick you up in a day or two. Y’all can stay for as long as you wanna. I won’t let the Captain charge you for your rooms either. I promise.” Then everyone laughed. B.J. had bought herself a beautiful white wedding dress that plunged at the cleavage so that her breasts were practically spilling out. Shamiso in turn chided her when looking at her milky white flesh – pale and pristine from so many years in space with no sunlight.
“It's a deal. By the way ... think you’ll get as dark as me in a year or two?” she asked humorously. B.J. cackled right along with some of the other women and a few former crewmen listening in.
“She’s right! Better be careful, Lieutenant! Don’t get those big boobs of yours sunburned when you’re sitting out there on your yacht in the Gulf of Mexico!” joked one of them. Another then remarked, “Wear plenty of sun screen B.J. Skin cancer, you know?” Then the whole group laughed some more.
“No, I promise I won’t get burned to a crisp out there. It’s just a great opportunity to go off the grid for a while. After what we’ve been through – shit – we could use a big long break, ya’ know? Isla Pérez is the perfect little hole in the wall for us to hide away from the world. If y’all ever wanna do the same, just come find us. We’d love to have you come stay with us. Shamiso – you especially. Honey, you and Ozzie would love it there. You too Bones.”
Young-Min Jo was at the time precariously balancing a plate of hors d’oeuvres in one hand while sipping a glass of champagne with the other. He’d never eaten so much food; not in all his life! The buffet was fabulous. He’d eaten until he was nearly sick. Slurped champagne. Got hungry for more. Then filled his plate once again.
“Isla Pérez? Sure. After I go see my brother in Canada,” he replied. “I’d love to come down. Maybe the three of us – Ozzie and Shamiso and me – maybe we can come see you two and kick back on the beach for a couple weeks. Hey, who knows? We might need a job someday!” As he said this, he walked over toward them. “Maybe we’ll rob a bank together … end up having to hole up there for a while. How 'bout that?”
“Hah! That’d be fine with us,” chuckled B.J. “You’ll fit in real good. Ain’t no better place in the world to disappear to, I bet.”
This concludes tonight's podcast of Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Happiest of Endings. I hope you enjoyed it. Watch for Chapter Twenty-Eight, which I'll be posting very soon.
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 can be found in the transcript for this episode. Go online and check 'em out!
I'm King Everett Medlin. Thanks for tuning in.
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