Chapter 14
'I need to talk to somebody, dammit. Foreman to Earth. Foreman to Earth. Don't make me come down there and kick ass. Listen. I don't give a shit if it's just the cleaner. Just bloody talk to me.' Two hours of talking to the box and listening to static was not improving his mood. He turned the set off. 'Nothing personal, pal, but right now, I never felt so alone. I need a drink.'
The fruit wine had cleared to a light pink colour. Using a cup, he scooped some out. He sniffed it.
'Smells okay.'
The first sip of the deep citrus flavour made him wince. By the third, his taste buds were accustomed to it.
'You know? For a first attempt, not too bad.'
'Me some, me some,' said Monkley, slapping his chest.
'Okay. Just a drop. Go get a cup.'
Monkley got a cup and handed it to Foreman who scooped up a half measure.
'Just sip it.'
Monkley sniffed the brew and took a little sip. He pulled a face at the sharp taste, but it didn't stop him finishing the cup. Foreman filled both cups and they went to the small pool and climbed into the hammocks.
'I can't get my head around it, pal. I hope I'm wrong. Shit. I hope I'm wrong. I can only use my eyes and brain and let my imagination fill in the blanks. That tiny explosion brought the ship down. It had to. It didn't happen during the crash. It caused the damn crash. But assume I'm right about this. Why? And more important, who?'
Monkley belched.
'I would sure like answers, pal. But if it was deliberate, and my instincts are screaming it was, who could gain from it?'
Monkley belched again.
'Somebody wanted us dead. But why? It isn't like we were about to do anything out of the ordinary. The whole point of the mission was one of plant maintenance and to see how you reacted to the new environment. Nothing to gain from stopping us doing that. It doesn't make any sense. And all that stuff on Earth. The I S F base was being attacked. We heard that going on. We haven't been able to reach them since that happened. If it had been an isolated thing, say, just the I S F, somebody would have taken it over. Unless we are being deliberately ignored, somebody would have tried communicating with us. That's a worry, pal. It makes me think whatever happened down there was bigger than that. Much bigger.'
The only reply he got was Monkley snoring. Getting out of the hammock as quietly as he could, Foreman returned to the container of fruit wine and drank several cups of it, as the dark depressing thoughts swirled around in his mind. Somebody had wanted them dead.