Chapter 9
They had slept for hours. Monkley woke first, jumping onto Foreman's chest.
'What? Oh. You're awake, so you think I should be awake. I guess you're right. Boy. I don't know about you, but I needed that.' Natural sunlight streaked through the translucent roof of the base. 'I have no idea what time it is, but it's day outside. Right now, I'm feeling like a tourist who went on holiday and never left the resort. How about you and I taking a spin in the horseless carriage and have a look around?'
'Fun?' Monkley only understood one word in ten, but Foreman's new upbeat mood sounded promising. 'Play?'
'Sort of play. Yeah. Come on.'
Monkley had to wear his own space suit, because it was the only one small enough. Foreman found a new one, and fitted full oxygen packs to both suits. The controls on the buggy were basic forwards and reverse, a steering wheel, and a brake pedal. That was it. Closing the inner airlock door, Foreman opened the outer door and drove out. He stopped as soon as he was clear of the airlock.
'Monkley. Go close the door, will you?'
Monkley jumped down, hit the button to close the door and jumped back in his seat. Casting a ridiculously long shadow, Olympus Mons stretched out into the Martian sky, the end disappearing into the red dust laden atmosphere. Immediately in front of the base main airlock doors was a ramp, constructed to drive the buggy up the side of the crater to the plateau above without the risk of rolling over in the soft iron rich sand. Foreman took that route, the six wheels sending red dust clouds up behind them. After a steady three hundred yard climb, they rocked over the lip of the crater. Once on the plateau, Foreman stopped. Before them for as far as the horizon, the desolate beauty of the red planet.
Deciding not to stray far in unfamiliar territory, with its landscape of gentle undulations, Foreman followed the rim of the crater. It looked like a sunny day in the Nevada desert, but he knew that the cold would kill them instantly, with just the thermal insulation and temperature control unit of their suits stopping that from happening. And if that didn't get them, the CO 2 would finish them off. As they drove around the crater, Foreman's mood became more sombre with each mile. It took nearly two hours to circumnavigate the crater and return to the ramp. Before driving down the slope, Foreman took in the bleak and lifeless planet.
With a sigh, his true situation struck him hard. He was the only human on the planet. If the unthinkable had happened on Earth, he could literally be the last man ever. With that sombre thought, he drove at a steady speed down the ramp, Monkley jumping out to open the airlock, waiting as Foreman drove inside before closing the outer doors, and opening the inner airlock doors. Once safely inside, Foreman removed his helmet and suit. Monkley did the same.
'It's official, pal. At least for the time being, it's just you and me.'
Monkley looked up at him, his huge soft brown eyes with a wisdom and understanding belying his chimpanzee features. The GenMop was a clone from a tiny family of other GenMops. Now he too was perhaps the last of his kind. It was entirely possible neither of them would ever see another of their own kind until the day they died.
'Hungry,' said Monkley, disappearing into the jungle.
Foreman watched him go, wondering if the little guy could only see the deep sadness of their situation when he looked up at the human. It was obviously easier to think of bananas rather than think of himself as being one life away from extinction. Foreman stripped naked, filled the jar with fresh dope, slipped into the small pool and endeavoured to obliterate the dark despondent thoughts from his mind.