Chapter 3
How long Foreman had been out, was hard to judge. Once again, he was surprised to find himself still alive. Breathing was difficult, and when he looked at the gauge, the reading was well in the red zone.
'Monkley?'
When he got no reply, he rolled over onto his belly. In front of him, literally within reach, was something solid. Rock? He tapped it. It made a hollow sound. Not rock. The base. There had been no sign of it just before he had passed out, so how...? Little Monkley was lying face down in the dirt, like a large rag doll in a space suit. Foreman used the smooth wall of the base to haul himself upright. The effort was almost enough to have him dropping right back down again. Fighting to take in the last of the dregs of air, he managed to turn around. There were drag marks in the sand, where Monkley had pulled him along. The little guy had given his all to save him. Dropping to his knees, Foreman shook Monkley.
'Hey, pal. Monkley? Can you hear me?'
Monkley lay lifeless, his arms limp to the touch. The air gauge read zero. Foreman looked at the cream coloured exterior of the base. He knew there were two entrances, one regular man-size door, and huge doors for vehicular access. On this side were neither. Grabbing Monkley by the arms, he pulled him up and held him in his arms. There was no sign of life in the GenMop. Staggering around the side of the building, Foreman twice collapsed to his knees and as a last resort, dragged Monkley along as Monkley had dragged him. And there it was. The man-sized entrance. He needed no key, just to press the green button.
Still on his knees, he reached up. Lack of oxygen had almost finished him. He had blurred double vision, and he couldn't remember his own name, let alone why he was there. Something told him through the nightmare that the green button meant something.
'You can do this, For...For...Foreman.' He smacked the button. Nothing happened. He smacked it again. 'Open, you useless piece of …'
There was a hiss. The door opened. With his body screaming at him to stop, he got hold of Monkley's arm and dragged him into the airlock. Now he had to think hard. He had to do something. What the hell was it? He stared out at the Martian night sky. Oh, yeah. They were on Mars. He pushed the button to close the outside door of the airlock. Why were they in this strange dark little room? He couldn't think. A voice inside his helmet was screaming at him, a voice so impossibly far away, yelling at him. He couldn't make out what it was saying to him.
'Stop shouting at me,' he pleaded. He fell backwards, and his head struck the inner airlock button. A light came on. Pretty, he thought. Another light. One by one, dozens of lights lit up the cavernous base dome. It went beyond effort, but with a twist, his helmet was off. Oxygen rich air, un-breathed by anything in years, washed over him, like the elixir of life. He took a couple of sweet lungs full and he knew no air on any planet ever tasted so good. With his brain clearing, he took off Monkley's helmet.
'Come on, pal. Don't give up on me now.'
He opened one of Monkley's eyes. It looked dull and lifeless. He pulled off the suit and put his ear to Monkley's chest. Was that a heartbeat? 'Monkley. Come on.'
They had all been given basic first aid and CPR training. Foreman went to work on Monkley, pressing down hard on his chest. 'Come on, pal. I need you.'
There was a gasp and Monkley's eyes opened. He panted for air, trying to get the oxygen into his lungs. The rapid breathing slowed down, and his head rolled from side to side. Then his breathing became stable. He looked at Foreman.
'Are we there, yet?'
Foreman laughed so loud it echoed throughout the base. 'Yeah, pal. Thanks to you.'