One Way to Mars by Gary Weston - HTML preview

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Chapter 17

 

Foreman had a new lease on life. He was as excited as a schoolboy going on his first date. He set about a cleaning regime that kept them both busy for twelve hours a day. Poor Monkley was set one task after another. As he was cleaning the buggy, Foreman was doing the really important stuff, like making large quantities of wine and curing the dope. If anybody actually remembered his birthday party he would consider it a flop. With the essentials taken care of, he got busy with the mundane chores, cleaning everything in sight. With a marker, he crossed off each day. Any free time, he was trying to contact Mitchum on the Moonstruck, with only partial success.

'Damn solar winds.'

Finally, the day arrived for the Moonstruck to land.

'Should we wait for them outside?' said Foreman pacing up and down. “You know, be there to greet them? Is that the right thing to do, Monkley?'

'Monkley.'

'I think we should. Do you think we should? Yeah. It's only polite. I think we should. Foreman. Calm down.'

'Andy happy.'

'You bet I'm happy. You'll be happy when you see all those people. I say all those people, I have no idea how many. I hope there's a single lady with them. You have no idea how long... None of your damn business. Just my luck to be a bunch of hairy assed guys, stinking of sweat and spitting tobacco. No. They won't be red-necks. They're astronauts. Intelligent people. Calm down Foreman. Monkley suit up. We'll wait for them outside.'

Relieved for Foreman making a decision, Monkley found his suit and wriggled into it. Five minutes later, they were sitting in the buggy, watching the red tinted sky. Foreman realised they could be sitting there for hours, with no agreed E T A, but he didn't care. Another ship was coming and that's all that mattered. Almost two hours had gone by when they saw it. The Moonstruck had eased into the Martian atmosphere and was on its circumnavigation of the planet, getting closer with each pass to the base. On its third circuit, it was coming in to land.

'Wow. Look at the size of the thing.'

'Oooh!'

The Moonstruck was massive, almost the size of the base. It was too large to land inside the crater, so it landed on the plateau close to the ramp. Foreman put the lever into forward and drove up the ramp to meet the visitors. Up close, the black and grey ship was even more impressive. Foreman parked by the main hatch. Three minutes later, the airlock hatch door opened and steps extended to the ground. Foreman could hardly breathe when two suited humans appeared at the open hatchway. Those two started down the steps, followed by three more.

One man bent down and shook Monkley's hand. 'You must be Foreman.'

'First time I've been mistaken with a GenMoP,' said Foreman.

'Just messing with ya. Mike Mitchum. Good to meet you at last, Foreman.'

'Andy. Call me Andy. Hi, everyone. I can take five of you if Monkley walks back.'

'He's cute,' said a woman. 'He can sit on my lap.'

They all squeezed onto the buggy and Foreman drove back down the ramp. Monkley operated the airlocks and they were all finally inside the base, removing their helmets.

'Okay. Formal intros'. Mike 'head honcho' Mitchum, in charge of this bunch of misfits. My number two, Debbie Warner, geologist . Operations manager, Joe 'If it ain't broke I'll fix it anyway' Hancock. Pete 'if it has an engine I can drive it' Giovani, and Susan 'I'm not just a pretty face' Redcliff.'

Foreman's mouth went dry when he saw Susan Redcliff without her helmet. Words like stunning, gorgeous and hot went through his mind. “Calm down, Foreman. And oh yeah, breathe.”

'Welcome. I'm Andy Foreman, veterinarian and personal groom to this chap, Monkley.'

'Cute,' said Redcliff, and Foreman realised she was looking at him, not the GenMoP.

'Err, right. Come on in and I'll show you around.'

'Mind if we take our suits off?' Joe Hancock asked.

'Feel free.' they all stripped down to the regulation I S F undergarments. Whomever designed them, never imagined a woman like Susan Redcliff filling one out. 'Come and grab some wine and we'll have the guided tour.'

'Actually,' said Mitchum, 'This is our third visit.'

'No shit? Sorry. I meant, really?' He led the way to the food and wine.

'We are the drillers,' said Joe Hancock. 'We're the ones who found the water.'

'Is that so? And an excellent drop of water it is too.'

'The filters probably want changing by now,' said Debbie Warner. Debbie was an attractive woman, but plain next to Susan.

'All done,' said Foreman. 'I'd appreciate it if you gave the sodium carbonate settings a once over while you are here. It can wait. What do you think of the wine?'

'Is that what it's supposed to be,' said Giovani. 'I was about to commandeer it for fuel.'

'Italian,' explained Susan. 'Thinks he knows a bit about wine.'

'Actually,' said Foreman, 'I found some exotic plants in the jungle.'

'Heck,' said Susan. 'The dope seeds took off?'

'You planted dope seeds?' Mitchum said.

'For which I am truly grateful,' said Foreman with a little bow.

'Call it my contribution. I'll have to sample it later.'

'Why wait? I usually have a smoke about this time of night. Wallowing in the pool, relaxing.'

'What are we waiting for then?' said Susan.

'I err, don't have any bathing suits,' confessed Foreman.

'Skinny dipping it is, then. Last one in is a sissy.'

'Looks like my birthday's arrived a couple of days early. You know where the pool is, I'll be there in a minute.'