by Purple Hazel
That was decent enough 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 violence. “Sometimes,” Kelvin added, “I’ve heard gifted kids get saved from these places.” To him, Kwang-Min certainly had a chance.
“He tested right up there with Young-Min, didn’t he? Fuck...we can get him out of that shithole any time we want now, can’t we?” However, B.J.’s roommate was quick to point out that there was no way to influence this. Their prime directive from headquarters back in Darmstadt was quite clear on these matters.
“Nein. We are not to intervene...any of us,” cautioned the young woman, “It’s against regulations.” She said it almost sternly...but then her facial expression changed to that of slight embarrassment.
The gal’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 administrative 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 began to say, then caught herself quickly before revealing anything further. 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 in Germany—a wanna be.
That said, she certainly got a real kick out of the fearless American and wasn’t the least bit annoyed with 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 great time the night before when the whole group went out on the town. He was indeed the life of the party. He created a good sense of Gemütlichkeit—a feeling of warmth and friendliness that seemed to inspire everyone into having fun together. Then he’d amazed them even further by sleeping with their cocktail waitress!
But Helga had also taken a very strong liking to the audacious B.J. by then. 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 indeed quite taken with the gal from Colorado.
“Are those initials for something?” Helga had asked naively, “Barbara Josephine? Bobby Joe, maybe?” B.J. only shook her head and smiled, “Nuh uh….” And even though it was with a group of young ladies listening in at the time, she still had the chutzpah to reply 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?” That was the morning before when B.J. was being introduced to her as Helga’s roommate for the night. It took the German gal only a second or so to process the joke, then 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 that second day at the Toronto hotel, 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 they put it. Told her no one would miss them for a while as most everyone was heading down to the hotel pool or grabbing a catnap to get over their hangovers from the night before. What’s more...they said they had “weed and plenty of it” and best of all...would she be “willing to try some”?
“How can I resist such an offer?” she replied laughingly. “What the hell?” she figured. She was rapidly being seduced by her American hosts’ charms. These two were like characters from some old movie she might have seen as a child.
“Cool!” exclaimed B.J. She then embraced the young lady arm-in-arm and led her upstairs like they were best buddies. Helga giggled almost the whole way up the back stairs of the hotel. It was B.J.’s suggestion actually. “Best we don’t have nobody seein’ us all together,” she explained.
Therefore, after the kids were sent back to their hotel rooms to enjoy one last day together and access all the free Ultravision, room service, and video games they could possibly stand, Kelvin and B.J., along with Helga her roommate, went back to get high together. Helga had only ever experienced hashish before, she told them in a low whisper—as though the room was wired for sound or something—and had never, ever tried real California Sensimilla. She soon found it to be most delightful.
“Aaaaah. Dass ist gut,” she began in German, then corrected herself, “I mean, this is some good shit, sorry.” But B.J.—all showered up now and sitting naked on a towel on top of the bed with a second towel wrapped around her hair—patted her on the thigh reassuringly. “I understood ya’ already, baby.” Buzzed slightly, Helga smiled and grasped B.J.’s hand in response. Oh yes. She was really, really beginning to like her new friends from America now! Felt like she could just be herself and let her hair down for once. “Gut Gemütlichkeit,” she muttered.
She then asked B.J. about her whereabouts the night before, and begged her to tell about it, as much as B.J. could recall. B.J., being the blunt and plain-speaking Colorado chick that she was, happily accommodated her. She told all about meeting the muscly fellows at the party, striking up a conversation, then being invited out to their stadium where one of them “claimed he had a key to the equipment shed ’r somethin’.” Eventually her crew of hunky rugby players deduced they could possibly “access the field itself,” she added. 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 young men put it gallantly.
“They were great, all of them,” said B.J. matter-of-factly. Kelvin snickered in response. “One was a little rough—too rough, really,” she added, “but otherwise...I guess they were all pretty decent. Lived to tell the tale anyway, right?” Helga could only shake her head in dismay and amusement. 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. B.J. was just the type of fearless floozy that she could live vicariously through. What a treat it was to listen to her!
“So, Kelvin, if you don’t mind me asking,” Helga continued, “how is it you’re so sure you’ll be selected to the mission crew...the Santa Maria that is...have you applied?” Helga suddenly decided upon changing the subject, at least for the time being.
“Applied…? Uh, no, not yet...but I’ve got a good connection see?” he assured her. He then detailed how they knew Günther’s father; and were planning on visiting him later that month back in Darmstadt.
“Father of a friend of ours,” he clarified. “Got the inside track, so to speak...if you know what I mean. Hey, maybe you know the guy ….” Then he mentioned the name of Günther’s dad and asked if she was familiar with the man. Helga nodded emphatically. Apparently, the guy was really important.
“Oh, I see,” replied Helga smiling patiently and calmly, “Yes, I know of him.” Then she thought about it some more, and with the THC doing a pretty fine job of loosening up her normally stoic German demeanor, she boldly added, “But this man you’re speaking of...he’s not involved with selection. He doesn’t even work with those people at Space Programme.”
Kelvin looked temporarily deflated and visibly worried. “Oh, yeah?” he asked timidly, sounding concerned. Then B.J., being the brighter of the two Americans, jumped in cleverly with, “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 giggled at her daring choice of words. Though it doesn’t translate directly into English, “Schnucki” is a German term of endearment. It’s much like “sweetie pie” in America.
“Ah…well, mein husband for starters,” replied the woman, high on Sensi now and no longer hiding her once well-kept secret. Her own husband, it turned out, had gotten her the job at Space Programme. He was a career employee, had been working there ten years, and they’d just been married two years prior. This was the longest they’d been apart the wh
ole time they’d been married. Maybe the loneliness had affected her...and even if not, the marijuana most certainly had! But for some reason, she suddenly felt this incredible urge to help these two hilarious stoners.
“Fuck...you mean your husband works for Space Programme?” asked Kelvin, brightening up again with a confident smile. “And he’s involved with the selection process? Seriously?” Helga smiled and leaned over onto B.J. who then rather comically lay back onto the bed and pulled Helga down with her until 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 session that B.J. joined right in with. “Helga…” laughed B.J., “I just gotta say. I’m so fuckin’ glad we met you….”
And as it would turn out, Helga was even more valuable than they could have possibly imagined. When they flew to Darmstadt later that year, they actually stayed with Helga and her husband Steffen Schwarz at their apartment there in the city! Went out on the town, bought some hashish and got high right out front of Space Programme headquarters while Steffen told Kelvin practically everything they knew about the process he’d undergo to make it onto the crew. Meanwhile, Steffen also set up a date for B.J.—a very special liaison in fact—between her and a man Steffen now had inside knowledge was a likely finalist to be selected captain for the return mission…
“Wait…you mean this dude I’m goin’ out with…he’s gonna be captain?” clarified B.J. with a grin, already glassy-eyed from the hash they’d smoked so far. “Ja,” answered Steffen expressionlessly while Helga snickered mischievously. “One of zem anyway. Zerr are two phases to the mission you see? Sssree really if all goes to plan.” He then stood and paced around excitedly, enjoying his buzz and detailing what he knew about the mission.
“First...zay vill freeze half zee crew, zen travel to planet “B”.” When he described this part, he pretended to be a space craft, and B.J. mimicked him playfully by imitating a rocket engine. Helga started laughing as she scooted up next to the crazy Denver girl and joined in with the fun.
“Zat will take fourteen years in our time,” continued Steffen, “but only seven for zee away crew of course.” He froze in place while he let the girls continue with their comical rocket noises. “Zen, zay vill land on Kapteyn B and awaken zee frozen crewmembers.” B.J. then pretended to be yawning and waking up early in the morning which Helga readily joined in with just to make it even funnier for her husband. Kelvin meanwhile remained silent.
But Steffen was undeterred, continuing unabated with his story as the hash was really starting to mess with his senses. He then pointed out, “Zose crewmembers...half of them zat is...zay must stay and build zee colony. Zen zee rest fly back home. Zee away crew will zen be cryogenic frozen for zee return trip.” The two girls then began pantomiming like they were snoring in bed. Steffen concluded thusly, “Und das ist, dass dann. Zay arrive back on Earth, mission accomplished.”
At the conclusion of his presentation, both girls applauded and whooped with joy. Steffen bowed slightly at the neck and smiled humbly. Kelvin meanwhile had sat riveted throughout the presentation and could picture the entire thing unfolding in his mind. If he could only be on the away team, he began to realize, then perhaps HE would be one of the conquerors who first set foot on an alien planet. That would make him one of Earth’s greatest explorers.
“That’s awesome man! Fuckin’ awesome. Thanks!” exclaimed Kelvin, his voice echoing off the empty office building in front of them. A group of passersby, noticing he was speaking English and hearing his thick American accent, snickered as they scurried past. “Ja. Bitte schön,” Steffen replied, “natürlich.” He then returned to sit with his giggling wife on the grass next to the others.
“So then...Steffen,” interrupted 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 do? Steinhart Stehter, you said, right? I mean it’s cool of course—anything for my buddy Kelvin and all...but where do we find the guy? Am I goin’ to his place or…?”
Helga was embarrassed, upon hearing B.J. so openly availing her favors to a total stranger—for the purpose of impressing him in hopes of selecting her best friend for the mission. Somehow it made her feel dirty hearing it expressed that way. “Oh no, my dear,” corrected Helga. “We’re all going out later...meeting him for drinks this evening, 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.” Then she added, “Wait...he ain’t married, is he?”
Steffen then laughed for the very first time that evening. Really laughed out loud, too, in a whiny giggle that practically unnerved the two Americans. This was downright hilarious to him for some reason.
“Nein!” laughed Steffen uproariously, “Divorced...sssree years ago.” Then Helga started to giggle mischievously as well. “I see,” chuckled B.J toward Kelvin. “Then don’t wait up for me. If he’s recently divorced I’ll be gone all night, I’m sure.”
“Thanks for takin’ one for the team, Beej,” said Kelvin reaching over and patting her on the thigh.
But Helga was quick to point out, “Oh, it’s not so terrible of a task, mind you. He’s very dashing, Captain Stehter is. A real arschloch sometimes, but he’s quite dreamy looking. You’ll have lots of fun, I promise.” B.J. gave her a big hug and thanked her.
After that awful flight in from Toronto the day before, she was pent up and ready—jet-lagged a bit sure, but raring to go. Yes, asshole or not, she was more than ready for a decent lay. A horny, middle-aged, German divorcé? All the better! Fewer formalities, she figured. He’d know exactly what he wanted and exactly how to get it done.
In fact, it all worked according to plan after that. Steffen led the gang to the nearest train station and they travelled across the city to a pub where they’d agreed to meet with the man. He was a dandy, no doubt about that. Polite and endearing to B.J. who melted like butter at the sound of his deep, sexy accent. He was engaging and enjoyable to 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 also a big, big fan of North American Megaball. Even liked some of the same teams as Kelvin, too!
“Bro-mance,” joked B.J. to Kelvin—who had that look like he had just won MVP in some imaginary championship game. “Maybe you two should go get a room,” she joked.
After many rounds of rich German ales and delicious wines for the girls, the party of five eventually made it out onto the streets once more—and that’s when B.J. finally made her move. Kelvin had done all he could, she figured. Now it was time for her to do her part; and what’s more she’d waited long enough already! Truth be told, the older gentleman was quite a dish.
She carefully and 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. And when the man hastened to propose this to the rest of the group, she gently pulled him aside and said, “No, Schnucki, just us. Breakfast for two. Whaddya say? Can you cook?” The man stood shocked only for a moment then regained his composure. He then grinned slyly.
“Aber zicher,” he replied in a husky bedroom voice; and after that he hailed a cab for them and gallantly bid good night to the rest of the group. 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 really put her through the ringer and she showed it, too. Worked her over good. Three long, drawn out, and quite thorough love-making sessions she’d experienced. All of them delightful, she had to admit, bu
t by the third time...frankly, she was hoping he’d finish so she could get some sleep!
But 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 was impressed with him and 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.”
Chapter 9
Non mais allô quoi
Unbeknownst to the public, there was something that very few people knew about the maiden voyage of the Santa Maria. In fact, if Steffen and Helga Schwarz had known of this they would have gladly told Kelvin and B.J. all about it during their visit to Darmstadt. Kelvin would have been thrilled, too! But reality was that only top-level scientists in the upper echelon of Space Programme—and barely a handful of high level officials within the government itself—had been informed up to this point. It wasn’t even discussed openly outside top-secret closed-door meetings.
The higher-ups over at Space Programme weren’t quite ready to reveal it just yet. But a new and exciting development within the world of science was about to surface which would change practically everything about people’s understanding of long-distance space travel; and with it, mankind’s potential to eventually conquer and settle the entire galaxy…
Among the things folks did know, however, was that cryopreservation had come a long way since its infancy back in the mid-20th century when humans had to have been pronounced dead before they could be frozen. Cryonics had by now evolved into a sophisticated science, involving cryoprotectants injected into the blood stream which would prevent ice formation during preservation. These functioned by lowering transition temperature of blood cells and tissues, also forming hydrogen bonds with biological molecules while water molecules were displaced during the process. Because of this, cryoprotectants would replace water molecules and the biological material within the human body would maintain structure and function.