Twin Paradox_Book Two

by Purple Hazel

  Kilometers of barren sea bed in all directions? He could see it now. A body buried out there in that dusty soil would never, ever be found. Not likely, anyway. What’s more, if something did happen to Cadorna—what could Steinhart and Captain Berwick do about it? Who would they accuse? Everyone hated the detestable oaf. They’d have a hundred and ninety-seven suspects. For that matter just how hard would anyone try looking for the lunatic if he did vanish one day? Steinhart really had to wonder. This was truly a crisis, for the sake of the colony’s survival. And B.J., with her specialized skills at seduction, was offering the only apparent alternative. That’s basically why he finally gave in.

  “Alright then,” he finally said to her one day when they were alone together. “I’ll permit it. Go...do whatever it is you do, my dear. He’s all yours. I won’t protest.” To this B.J. was dismayed only briefly when she realized he was temporarily giving her up.

  “It’s okay then? You want me to uh...” but Steinhart only nodded and blinked with annoyance. “Yes, yes, yes. Please yes. Just...be discrete about it, won’t you? You know everyone will figure it out within a week or two. But you’re right, my dear. We’re at wit’s end. If you think you can pull it off, then yes, I will allow it. Only be careful please. I will miss you terribly, you realize this, don’t you?”

  “Oh, no Schnucki,” she retorted. “It’s not permanent, my love. Not even temporary. I’ll turn him into a new man in one or two afternoons at the most. You’ll see.” But Steinhart knew it could never be that simple, no matter how she spun it, no matter how she tried sparing his feelings. To accomplish this scheme, he knew full well she’d have to carefully seduce him, then become his “padrona” for the balance of their stay there. Until the laser was built for one thing. Until the colony was finished. Until the first crops were nearing harvest. Only then could he pry her away from that testy griesgram and demand she return to her post onboard Santa Maria. Then and only then could he “pull rank” and get her back.

  So, for the next couple of weeks, B.J. shadowed Luigi Cadorna. Followed him like a stalking lioness or at times more like a hovering insect. She memorized his routines and got to know his habits. Figured out when the little guy would be alone so she could get to work on him—talk to him a bit, warm him up just a tad in other words. It was certainly challenging! He spent most all his waking hours in his command center on board the B-lander. Hardly ever went outside. Sat and read through reports which he compared to projections and timetables established by Space Programme fourteen years before which were only vaguely relevant now.

  Besides that, he mainly just yelled at subordinate officers when they informed him of the colony’s progress. It seemed no matter what anyone told him or detailed for him; it wasn’t enough. Not good enough. Not fast enough. Not strong enough—the structures, that is. Not sturdy enough. His staff seemed to walk on eggshells at all times. Tried anything they could not to set him off again.

  Steinhart aided B.J. as much as he could during this, having Tommy Berwick reassign her to “courier duty” so she could operate a surface rover back and forth between exploration and experimental test sites. This got her off building crews and meant she could be free to work more diligently on her target. Captain Berwick barely pulled it off. Had to replace one of his best staff officers with her in order to placate their little nemesis temporarily. Had to send one of his most reliable female crewmembers to go work for Cadorna; and suffice it to say the bright young gal was not too terribly pleased with the new arrangement.

  Meanwhile, B.J. soon figured out his weekly regimen. He usually knocked off work every few days to trudge across the kilometer-long expanse between the B-lander and the Santa Maria to go have a shower. This seemed to be his only private time to be alone with his thoughts. He could have used one of the two hygiene chambers on B-lander but it appeared he wanted to get away from things for a spell. That’s what it looked like to B.J., anyway. She had a knack for sizing up men correctly.

  She watched him making that long, exhausting walk one day and the thought gradually began to occur to her that people may have been reading him wrong. Watching him shuffle along, slumped over dejectedly with his gloved hands clasped behind his back, she started thinking: He seems like a sad, lonely, depressed little fellow…with the burdens of the whole planet on his shoulders. Could it be he’s simply missing his wife who passed away before he left? Could it be that he never really had time to grieve for her? Did he run away from his past by applying for this mission, using his family connections to get him command of the colony?

  If so, perhaps it all made more sense in the grand scheme of things. He wasn’t right in the head anymore, and if that was the case how could she blame him for being so...prickly? Saddened and weakened emotionally, then the shock of being revived from fourteen plus years in a cryonic freezer? It seemed much clearer to her that day; and though such thoughts never would have crossed her mind before (when she was getting yelled at, that is) she began to feel compassion for the “little turd”. That’s what eventually gave her the idea for her first attempt at wooing the man…

  Naturally, as B.J. knew from personal experience, a person in authority who is petty and abusive with their subordinates is usually a person who feels unappreciated and apprehensive about their own competence. It’s rarely more complicated than that. They feel threatened and besieged by subordinates who seem to question their authority with every little gesture or change in facial expression. Dealing with those of similar rank only exacerbates this when they sense that their colleagues and fellow officers consider them to be an outsider—even though they possess the same authority, more or less.

  Add to that a little bit of temporary psychosis brought on by a bad reaction from the chemical process used in reviving him—or maybe even a malfunction in the machine itself—and it was a recipe for paranoia and delusion. The snub over “discovering” the Great Kapteyn Sea and having to share the credit with a Junior Grade Lieutenant was most likely the first of many things that provoked him.

  Her first attempt at following him across that wide expanse of dry seabed to the Santa Maria didn’t go exactly the way she’d planned it, truth be told. Shuffling along behind him from over a hundred meters back, she gasped and panted and kicked up a cloud of dust—but she caught up to him eventually. It startled the poor man at first and his reaction was to say the least standoffish.

  “Che cazzo?” he exclaimed when turning to face her, “Chi diavolo sei…?” But B.J. was only put off by this for a second. “Oh, it’s you Commander, buon pomeriggio!” she replied, feigning ignorance. “I was heading back to Santa Maria for a shower...mind if I join you?” To this, he merely shook his head in mild frustration and muttered something that sounded like, “Suit yourself.” After that they walked together the rest of the way.

  B.J. tried several times to start up a conversation; but with the wind blowing across the dry seabed and the dust kicking up, things didn’t work out quite the way she thought it would. In fact, it wasn’t until they reached Santa Maria’s rearward entry chamber that she finally got much of a reaction from him. She wasn’t dismayed however. She persisted until he realized he’d have to finally talk to her or she’d never shut up.

  “And you know what? Even if no one’s pointed it out to you, yet,” she rattled on, as the door lock sealed behind them creating a gasping, hissing sound, “most all of us working on the irrigation canal have been really impressed with the planning that went into it. We all figure you had a hand in that, so… Well, what can I say? Good job...uh...I believe it’s ‘ottimo lavoro!’ right?”

  At this point she fully expected him to lash out at her verbally, or at the very least tell her she was full of shit—which she was, of course—the original plans for the irrigation canal had been scrapped months ago and scientists on the work site had long since redesigned the whole thing to make it flow more consistently.

  Yet she continued, “Hey, sometimes a guy just likes to hear when he’s doin’ well—I’v
e always found, anyway.” After that the air-locking process completed, which was signaled by a large green indicator light overhead, giving them the “all clear” sign. The two brushed curious insects off their pressure suits which had alighted on them during their long walk. Subsequently B.J. launched right into her plan to seduce him.

  “Never hurts to pay a compliment, I guess,” she added, then she promptly and without any warning whatsoever removed her pressure suit and stripped right down to her panties and a tank top! Luigi tried not to notice, even when she bent over to remove her feet from her gravity boots. But how could he not? She was so shapely and gorgeous. And he? Well, it had technically been years since the last time he’d seen a half-naked female standing in front of him.

  “Hey, Commander…could you please help me out of this?” she suddenly asked and the poor man fumbled for an answer as he stood there with mouth agape. “Eh…aiutare fuori di che cosa?” he clarified, not even thinking to translate it into English. But by then, B.J. was already lifting her tank top over her breasts and bending over for him to help slide it off of her. He pieced it together quickly, and instinctively slid the shirt over her head, watching in amazement as her breasts jiggled and bounced freely. “Che Bella,” he muttered.

  “But uh...signora …you...I mean it’s very cold in here. Should not we wait until to the showers we get?” He was so nervous, looking at her bare chest, that he suddenly couldn’t speak clear English.

  “Oh, that’s just me, I guess,” she explained playfully, “I’m kinda weird. To tell you the truth I usually crank up the temperature in my pressure suit when I’m out on the surface rover. Then o’ course, I got all hot and sweaty runnin’ up to you out on the flats.” (That was the nickname people gave the expansive dry sea bed - a twelve square kilometer wasteland spread out in every direction.) “How about you?” she continued cleverly. “Do you ever get really, really…hot...in your suit, I mean?” She asked this with an innocent smile that would have probably melted an iceberg. It was really more of a cheeky grin that she’d used perhaps a dozen times - several dozen come to think of it - to disarm or disrobe a prospective lover.

  Enthusiastic. Charming. Seductive, but not overwhelming or off-putting. Her comely demeanor was designed to put her target at ease that day. Would have worked on practically anyone really. Commander Cadorna seemed to freeze for a moment in shock as he stared back at her. She just knew he was soon going to redress her shameless behavior with a vicious response. But he didn’t.

  Instead, the little man sighed deeply and recomposed himself, all the while trying not to look down at her lovely breasts repeatedly—the nipples of which were now rigid in that cold changing room. As he sighed, his breath condensed in front of his face and it suddenly occurred to him he needed to act like a gentleman.

  “Signora, please…eh, let me get you something to wear...you’ll catch your death of cold,” he stammered, but within a few moments the interior heating unit kicked in and B.J. promptly quipped, “No matter, Commander...heaters just came on. It’s already warmin’ up.” Then she pranced past him very playfully, grabbing and pinching his shoulder a bit while she bent over and let the air vents blow hot air onto her cleavage. When she turned around to warm her backside, that was just about when Commander Cadorna had had enough.

  He politely averted his eyes (to B.J.’s dismay). But she could tell her work here was done for now. There was nothing more she needed to do that day. By the time he’d later finished his shower, alone with his thoughts inside one of those hygiene chambers for several minutes, and later that evening when he crawled into his sleeping berth, she knew his dreams would be filled with images of her half-naked body and her warm, inviting smile. That’s what she thought about as she scampered off to the showers.

  Just how long had he gone, she had to wonder, without a single person being genuinely kind to him? Had no one greeted him cordially since they’d landed? Probably not. It had been all business since the day B-lander had touched down. Had anyone smiled at him warmly when he showed up that day at his post? Certainly not. He was the commander of the colony, wasn’t he? Chances were good he’d never heard more than casual laughter down hallways—laughter which would promptly cease the moment he approached. “How unnerving that must be!” she imagined. To a guy suffering from paranoia and a lack of self-esteem, now thrown into a leadership role with crewmembers just as confused and overwhelmed as he was?

  “Don’t envy the bastard, that’s for sure,” she mused privately as she put on her protective head gear inside the hygiene chamber. That said, he’d only made things worse for himself, hadn’t he? With all the tirades and abuse of subordinates? No wonder he has no friends, she thought.

  A blinking light and soft-toned buzzer was warning her the cleansing powder was about to be sprayed over her bare skin. She stood with legs spread and hands placed on the walls. That’s when the smell hit her.

  She was certainly fully ripened after that hot, sweaty jog across the “flats” to catch up to Cadorna. Now she could only imagine how Luigi must have reacted to her feminine odors. Bending over and pulling her feet out of those boots? Lifting up her arms to remove her tank top? Fluffing out her hair while the heater was blowing hot air across her bare breasts? “Whew,” she mused out loud, “he musta got a snout full of that, I reckon.”

  Of course, she’d been careful to deselect the laser hair removal function this time. If everything worked out, she assumed the little Italian would be delighted to see a nice hairy bush staring back at him whenever he got her panties down! “I think we’ll leave the pussy nice and furry for now,” she said patting her little brown tuft of pubic hair. “See if he likes it like this.”

  First things first though, her next objective was to get him alone, and the best, sure-fire way to accomplish this was quite simple really. These thoughts pervaded her mind as the system coated her body with a light film which caused a tingling sensation. She needed to get him into her rover for a good long “field inspection”. Take him for a ride to inspect the work sites in person and get him out of that command bridge for a few hours. That was her goal.

  This would be problematic though, no matter how she managed to arrange it. It would make her severely unpopular among the crew for a time, and she knew it. Bringing the detestable tyrant out to the worksites would be a disturbance absolutely no one would either welcome or enjoy. He’d rant and rave that they were doing it incorrectly - she could picture that already. He’d criticize everything, from the way the irrigation trench was dug, on down to the speed at which they were working! But she knew this was necessary. And it had to be spontaneous as well, otherwise she’d never con him into it.

  She’d literally have to sell out her fellow crewmates in the interest of wooing Commander Cadorna into her surface rover for the day; and about the only friends she was going to make would be those poor down-trodden members of his staff working in the command bridge up at the very top of B-lander. For sure, those folks would be about the only ones who’d appreciate it. They’d certainly heave a collective sigh of relief the moment he stalked off with her. And she could only hope they’d have enough sense to transmit to the work crews that the “little shit” was coming to inspect their sites. If not, then oh the hell she’d be causing for all those exhausted scientists and engineers working out there.

  It certainly took her a while to pull it off, too! She caught up to him a few days later when she saw him trudging off to the showers again. Once more, he seemed surprised at her presence when she drove up in her rover and rapped her gloved knuckles on the windshield, motioning for him to ride along with her. She activated the outside transmitter which emitted a rather distorted version of her sexy, feminine voice saying provocatively, “Commander Cadorna...hailing Commander Cadorna...please report to Surface Rover Five...over.”

  However, it sounded so odd and yet mischievously comical, that dammit if the little man didn’t pause for a moment and gaze inquisitively through the windshield until he could make
out B.J.’s pretty smile beaming back at him, waving and beckoning him to hop in with her—like she was some beautiful brunette inviting him into her convertible top sports car for a cruise around the streets of Milan.

  He thought about it for a moment and looked back at B-lander, then forward again toward Santa Maria, as if making sure they were not being seen together. He looked like a nervous married man gazing both ways down a sidewalk before entering a strip club. But after a few moments, he looked over at her again and put his hands on his hips. How can I resist, he must have thought? B.J. could sense this. She just knew he was thinking to himself, “Ah, the little trollop from America. The one with the big boobs…and those panties the other day, yes, those were nice too...and that smile looking back at me now...welcoming me in.” She could read him like a book.

  She kept on motioning to him, too, playfully yet adamantly, as if to say “Hey baby, what are you waiting for? Come on inside where it’s warm and cozy!” After a few more agonizing seconds, he finally relented. Nodding and bowing slightly at the shoulders to let her know he was game, he then hastened around the front of the vehicle and climbed in through the passenger door. That’s when she finally hit him with her bold idea.

  “Abord benvenuto...buon uomo! Feel like taking a little ride, Commander?” she asked innocently. Then she pressurized the cabin of the surface rover so she could take off her helmet. This was against procedure naturally, so it was just her little way of seeing how far she could go with him before he’d pull rank on her. Not surprisingly, he didn’t protest one bit, merely gave out a little, “Hmmph,” then fastened his safety belt. Oh, he probably wanted to, no doubt. For safety sake, no one was ever allowed to remove their helmet while outside of the B-lander or the protective confines of the mother ship. But he held his tongue, nonetheless, as she shook out her hair and fluffed it up, filling the cabin with her pleasant aroma.