“Genesis.” Johann Relevant clicked his heels. “Genesis.”
Von Schweindrek went on to explain the second part of his theory. “Atomic rearrangement in previous nuclear tests has suggested the possibility of gravitational displacement. This would have been particularly extreme following the double nuclear explosion. The rearrangement of energy patterns could have created a buoyancy which made it possible for you to walk on the water. Or, the reshuffling of your own molecules might have resulted in a weightlessness enabling you to accomplish the feat.”
“Fermi himself postulated the question of the inter-relationship of nuclear alteration and gravity” was the Relevant response.
“Ja! Ja!” Professor Von Schweindrek’s eyes widened with admiration at Johann Relevant’s grasp of the complex subject. “So you see, it is imperative that the theory be tested. . . .”
A few moments later, Johann Relevant, naked, marched from the safety of the hut into the sub-zero, still radioactive atmosphere. Professor Von Schweindrek squelched an impulse to salute the Wagnerian figure as it goose-stepped to the edge of the iceberg.
Chin high, shoulders back, blue eyes fixed on the horizon, Johann Relevant stepped onto the Arctic Ocean.
Chin high, shoulders back, blue eyes fixed on the horizon, Johann Relevant sank from sight.
“Add ‘Codicil One’ to the ‘Messiah Theorem,’ ” Professor Von Schweindrek wrote after Johann Relevant had been fished out. “Whether molecular rearrangement of the sea, or weightlessness explains the ability to walk on the water, the effect is short-term.”
Shivering, alone in his hut, Johann Relevant also reached a conclusion. “Whoever I am,” he decided, “I’m definitely not Jesus Christ!”
That was a load off his mind. Somehow Jonathan Relevant knew he couldn’t sustain the self-denial of a messiah. This knowledge was not unrelated to the conception of the “Merman Thesis.”
Indeed, the “Merman Thesis” stemmed in part from the first known sex act of Jonathan Relevant. Of course, it was known by only two people: Jonathan Relevant himself and his partner in the act, Dr. Ludmilla Skivar.
It was night when the Russian girl entered the hut. The interior was dark. “Comrade Relevant?” she whispered.
“Da?”
“Comrade Ludmilla Skivar here.”
“Nice of you to visit me, Comrade.” He knew that the Russians weren’t all bad.
His Russian is as faultless as my own, Ludmilla thought to herself. “There are some scientific points I would like your help in investigating,” she said aloud.
“Not really.” Ivan Relevant corrected her firmly. “What you would really like is for me to make love to you, Comrade.”
Male . . . naked . . . tumescent. . . . The memory filled Ludmilla’s mind. “Da!” she heard herself agreeing. “Da!”
“Then take off your clothes and come here!” I wonder if I’ll know what to do when she gets here, he worried. After all, just how experienced am I?
He needn’t have worried.
Ludmilla stripped and slipped under the covers. She felt the naked male body hot and ready and muscular against her own. “Oh, Comrade Relevant!” Her nails dug into the flexed tendons of his shoulders; her tousled black hair grazed his cheek; their lips met and clung together.
Remember your first taste of honey‘? Your first car? The first home run you ever hit? Well, that’s what it was like for Ivan Relevant.
His hands were everywhere. Each touch was a step higher in a mounting pattern of arousal. Her neck arched under his fingertips. Her flat belly rippled to his caress. Her nipples hardened in the palms of his sensitive hands, and her breasts fluttered like plump white doves as he gently squeezed them into panting fullness. Exquisite sensations swept up her body from her quivering thighs when he stroked them. Her nether lips palpitated and then clutched greedily at the knuckles seeking admission.
If this is what I’ve been missing up to now—the thought flashed through Ivan Relevant’s mind—-then it’s a damned shame!
Ludmilla grabbed for the Relevant member with both hands. It was ready beyond a readiness most men are able to offer, and when his body locked with hers, it was as if an abyss had been filled by some ideally fitted flesh sculpture. As in all else, Relevant proved truly relevant.
Nor was he precipitate. His passion surely equalled hers, yet he refrained—effortlessly-—from releasing it. Ludmilla reached the heights-—once, twice, three times—and then she lost count. The thrills of fulfillment came so quickly, one on top of the other, that it seemed as if each release, of itself, contained the seeds of arousal for the one following it.
Ludmilla’s brain couldn’t cope with the dizzying sensations. Awhirl, it conjured up the tritest of sexual similes. She rode the erotic crest of waves in a pounding ocean. Higher and higher they spun her until, finally, the churning waters parted with Ivan Relevant’s release and she was plunged into a spiraling vortex of ecstasy which carried her to the sea bottom itself—-and beyond. Her body drew into itself the oceanic quake; her brain translated the experience into the “Merman Thesis.”
According to the “Merman Thesis,” the double nuclear explosion caused penetration of the ocean floor. Dr. Skivar postulated that Ivan Relevant was a member of an undersea race of humanoids existing beneath the crust of the sea bottom. Her theory was that he’d been propelled to the surface by the force of the blast. From his physical characteristics, she thought that his race and the Slavic peoples of Russia might have a common ancestry.
Its proponents, naturally, remained ignorant of the correlation between the Relevant-Skivar copulation and the “Merman Thesis.” This loss to Freudian psychology went unnoted as evidence was compiled to support the theory. The legends of Atlantis were cited as germane, and Relevant was viewed as sort of a living Dead Sea scroll. It was hoped that studying him would ultimately prove leg- end to be history, just as the Dead Sea scrolls had done for certain parts of the Old Testament.
“There’s no soul in the role of a scroll.” That’s what Ivan Relevant thought of the “Merman Thesis.” Still, he cooperated with Dr. Skivar’s researches at every opportunity. “Raise your hips up just a little higher,” he suggested to her in the interests of science. Yes, he cooperated fully!
There was, however, no cooperation forthcoming from Admiral Churkov in promoting the theory proposed by his eminent countrywoman. The admiral had his own ideas, which would come to be known as the “Galactic View.” It hypothesized that Ivan Relevant was a Russian astronaut whose space ship had developed some in-flight defect during the reentry phase, causing it to crash. Admiral Churkov claimed he, himself, had seen the rocketship plummet into the water just before Ivan Relevant appeared.
When it was suggested to the admiral that what he had really seen was a steel container of garbage being jettisoned from the Wartoy on the other side of the iceberg, he pooh-poohed the notion. He insisted he had clearly distinguished the markings of hammer and sickle on the craft before it submerged. Nor would he believe that the markings were really a piece of stray celery and a slice of onion which had adhered to the garbage container. He was encouraged in his stubbornness when the Supreme Soviet -- in order to get a political foothold on Ivan Relevant—officially supported the “Galactic View.”
The admiral visited Ivan Relevant and informed him that he had now been officially identified as a Russian astronaut. But as Admiral Churkov warmly talked with the undersized, balding little man with the nattily trimmed beard and too-round stomach, he had to admit that he didn’t look much like an astronaut. Instead, Ivan Relevant managed to resemble both Lenin and the admiral’s father at the same time.