Foreman led the way to the jungle. On one of the apple trees, many of the branches were in blossom. 'Flower. Pretty.'
'Pretty.'
'Now watch very closely. Take the brush...'
'Brush.'
'And with the tip, carefully touch this bit. That's the female part.'
'Oooh!'
'Now rub it over this part of the next flower, the male part.'
'Pretty.'
'Then go onto the next one, and the next one. Here. You try.'
Monkley handled the brush with the dexterity of a skilled artist, delicately brushing each blossom in turn.
'Okay. See all those flowers?'
'Pretty.'
'Do this to all the pretty flowers. Off you go.'
Deciding the mission was sufficiently important for the king of the jungle, Monkley set about his task with single minded determination. Foreman knew he wouldn't stop until every blossom had been pollinated. With Monkley fully occupied for several hours, Foreman braced himself for more disappointment at the controls of the radio.
'Foreman to Earth. Foreman to Earth. I just wanna know. Is it something I said? If it is, I'm sorry. But I formally invite you to my birthday party in a couple of weeks. No. Don't bother sending cards. Just come and have a good time. We have all the processed pap you can eat and we do a wicked fruit sundae, minus the ice-cream. We have have a very interesting wine and not a bad organic mind bender. Oh. And if there are any single ladies out there looking for a good time, I have all of my own teeth and I might even shave for the occasion. This is definitely R.S.V. P.'
He sat back and waited. Twenty excruciating minutes rolled by and he was about to turn off the set when he got a reply.
'Foreman. This is Captain Mike Mitchum of I S F S Moonstruck. Boy, you're hard to get hold of. We accept your invite to the party and should be there in about ten days. Shall we bake a cake?'
Foreman wondered if it was a delayed reaction to a combination of his wine and dope. The radio had spoken.
'Captain Mitchum. Are you for real?'
This time, only a minute went by. 'Last time I looked in a mirror. The radio signal to Mars has been interfered with by solar storms. It's the same from Earth. No idea what the hell is going on down there.'
'Yeah. I've been worried sick. I was beginning to think Monkley and I were the only ones left.'
'Monkley's the GenMoP, right?'
'Yeah. Don't tell the little guy, but I'll be damned glad to see a human face.'
'You might change your mind when you see mine.'
'Have you come all this way just to rescue me?'
Mitchum laughed. 'Yeah, like you're that important. We were already on our way for some work we have to do. I'll explain when we get there. Hello? Hel...Forem...damn sol...inds...dio breaking up. We'll keep ...ing to con...see ...soon, Foreman.'
'Hello?'
Finally. Something good happening. Foreman practically danced out of the room. 'Hey, Monkley. Come down here.'
Monkley dropped down from the trees, with a “What? I'm kinda busy, you know?” Look on his face.
'We got people coming. Visitors. People coming here.'
'Oooh!'
'This is going to be one hell of a party, pal.'
'Party.'
'Oh. Yeah. Damn. I can hardly believe it. I can hardly wait. A bit odd though. Why send another ship here so soon after us? That's what Mitchum said. They were already on their way. With the cost of these flights, you'd think we would have all come together. But, hey. I'm not knocking it. It may well be a cock up in planning, but it means we get to go home.'
'Home.'
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.'<
br />
'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.'
Chapter 18
Foreman collected up the jars of dope he'd prepared earlier and carried them to the pool. Already full of smoke, he handed them out. None declined.
'The GenMoP uses the pool?' Mitchum asked, as Monkley jumped in.
'The water's filtered constantly,' said Foreman. 'You don't mind do you?'
Mitchum shrugged. 'It's just that I thought Chimps didn't like water much.'
'I threatened him with sleeping in the airlock if he didn't take a regular bath. That's right, isn't it, Monkley?'
'Monkley,' he said, helping himself to a jar and having a smoke.
'I bet the I S F would love to see one of their billion dollar babies getting stoned,' said Debbie.
Foreman was having trouble keeping eye contact with the ladies. “Keep calm. Foreman.” 'He knows when to stop. He usually has a smoke then curls up asleep. So. What does bring you here if it wasn't rescuing us?'
'Drilling,' said Mitchum. 'It turns out when we sent down the first bore, we got close, but no cigar. We struck water, like the geologists said we would, but we were off a little way. We hit a kind of shelf. We got water of sorts out of it, but the mineral content is higher than we'd like, and the pressure is lower than we hoped for.'
'Everything seems okay to me,' said Foreman, smoking and averting his eyes from Susan's ample breasts, bobbing up and down so delightfully on the surface of the pool.
'It's okay,' said Debbie, 'But the filters are getting clogged too fast. Without somebody to change them regularly, the reservoir would be a slimy mess in no time. A deeper bore in the right place will give us more pressure and cleaner water to start with.'
'Makes sense. How long will that take?'
Mitchum said, 'A couple of weeks we think. It depends what we hit. The formations are all over the place. Some of it is like pure iron. This is pretty good dope, Andy.'
'My old college pals taught me a thing or two about curing it. Beats me how we all managed to pass the exams.'
'And now you look after this handsome fellow,' said Debbie.
'Oooh!' said Monkley, his eyes beginning to roll around in his head. 'Happy.'
'Okay, Monkley,' said Foreman, taking the jar off him. 'Time for bed, pal.'
Monkley stretched and yawned, kissed Debbie on her cheek and climbed out of the pool and disappeared into the jungle.
'Will he be alright?' Joe asked.
'He'll curl up in a tree somewhere.'
'I don't know about you lot,' said Susan, 'But I'm off to bed.'
'Yeah,' said Mitchum. 'We've an early start in the morning.'
Seven naked people got out of the pool. Foreman tried hard not to show his appreciation of the female form and gathered up the jars. He took those to the kitchen and put them safe for the dope to burn itself out. When he reached his bedroom, he found somebody had beaten him to it.
'Susan. Sorry. I usually sleep here, but it's no bother. I'll bunk down somewhere else.'
'I'll be disappointed if you do, Andy.'
'Oooh!'
Chapter 19
Fingers lightly stroked Foreman's face and he smiled.
'That's nice,' he said and opened his eyes. 'Monkley!'
He was disappointed to find he was the only human in the room, in fact, when he checked, the only human in the base. Monkley handed him a cup of coffee.
'Thanks, pal.'
'Andy happy.'
'Are you kidding? Me, spending the night with the hottest woman this side of the galaxy? Oh. Yeah.'
Stuck on the bathroom door he found a note. “Not keen on beards. See you tonight, Susan.”
'Can't argue with that, Monkley. Time for a shave.'
It took longer than usual, but the beard was gone. 'She's right. Much better. Then women usually are right about most things.'
After breakfast, they tidied up. 'I was thinking. It could be interesting, taking a look at the drilling operation. I don't think they'll mind.'
Foreman wasn't surprised to find the buggy gone. It was only a half hour walk up the ramp to the ship. The ship was deserted, the back of it opened up from where the driller and associated equipment was stored. The driller was gone and huge tracks in the soft sand pointed the way. The buggy was parked by the ship, the drilling team using the driller for transportation. Foreman got in the buggy as did Monkley. They followed the tracks for a half hour and came to the site. Like the Moonstruck, the driller was an impressive piece of equipment. Behind it was a trailer stacked with drill tubes, with its own winch crane for manoeuvrings the pipes into place. Foreman and Monkley ventured closer. The driller was already grinding its way through the Martian ground. Mitchum saw them and held out his hand to stop them, then he walked over to them.
'Morning,' said Foreman.
'Andy. Morning, Monkley. Look, Andy. Don't take this personally, but this is a work site. Our insurance only covers authorised drillers. If there was an accident...'
'Sorry, Mike. I should have figured it out myself.'
'Hey. No worries. If you move away a little, say to that dune over there, I'll let you watch. This time only though, okay?'
'Fair enough. Thanks, Mike. Come on, Monkley.'
Feeling a little stupid and embarrassed, Foreman led Monkley to the designated dune and sat on top of it. They had quite a good view of the action. He couldn't tell who was who in their suits, as he watched the efficient way the team worked together. The massive driller was fed tubes via the crane, which were manually connected to the preceding tubes. The driller turned the tubes and the industrial diamond drill bit chewed inexorably through the rock, so slowly, it seemed no progress was being made at all. It took nearly two hours before the next tube section was attached.
'Well. I think we get the general idea, pal. Come on.'
They returned to the buggy and left it where they had found it by the ship. Then they walked back to the base.
Chapter 20
Foreman and Monkley prepared the best meal possible from the various vacuum packed supplies, adding sweetner to the wine to improve the harsh citrus taste. It was another nine hours before the airlock door opened and the buggy was driven inside.
'Hey. The workers return.'
Shaking the sand off their suits, they all stripped down to their undergarments.
'How's it going out there?'
'Slow and tedious,' said Mitchum. 'We're used to it.'
Foreman nodded. 'Why don't you all hit the showers and come and eat. Not a bad meal waiting, though I say it myself.'
'Good idea,' said Susan. 'I nearly didn't recognise you.'
'Do you approve?'
'Much nicer,' she said with a pout and a mischievous smile.
When she returned from the bathroom, she looked and smelt good enough to eat. Her thick mane of auburn hair shone and fra
med her beautiful face. Why a woman like her was remotely interested in him, Foreman could only wonder and be thankful.
'Andy,' said Mitchum as he sipped the wine as he ate. 'I hope I didn't offend you earlier.'
'Hell, no. I could kick myself for being so stupid, coming over there.'
Mitchum shrugged. 'You were just being curious and I understand that. Believe me, if it wasn't for insurance, I'd rope you in and get you working with us.'
'It's cool.'
'I would hardly call it entertainment,' said Giavani. 'Drill a bit further, stick another tube on, drill a bit further... boring, boring.'
'I guess that's why they call them bores,' said Foreman, hardly raising a smile. 'Say. Mike. Could I have a word with you?'
Mitchum stifled a yawn. 'Sorry It's been along day. Yeah. I could do with stretching my legs and breathing air not from a pack on my back.'
'Thanks. Help yourself to wine and I've filled the jars up for a smoke if you want one.'
He followed Mitchum outside and they strolled along the path.
'I didn't want to say anything in front of the others, but there's something I'd very much like your opinion on.'
'Shoot.'
'I have to show you.'
'Okay.'
'It's outside. It's the ship I came down on.'
'That was damn bad luck, Andy. From what you told me, you and the GenMoP were lucky to survive.'
'Mike. We should have all survived. But I need you to see it.'
'Okay. But not right now. We're all bushed. Besides, driving a buggy at night, even with lights on, is asking for trouble. I tell you what. In the morning, I'll get the crew working, then I'll come back in the buggy and we'll take a look. How does that sound?'
'That's a good idea, Mike. We'll be fresh. Listen. Don't say anything to the others, okay? Not until we've had a look. I don't want them worried unduly.'
Mitchum nodded. 'Okay. Andy. Is there something I should be worried about?'
'If your opinion is the same as mine, could be.'
They found the others naked and wallowing in the pool, each with a jar to smoke from. Monkley was snuggled up close to Debbie, as he seemed to have a crush on her. He had the silly mellow look on his face, which reminded Foreman of Stan Laurel from Laurel and Hardy. Slightly self conscious, Foreman stripped off and slipped into the pool and picked up a jar. Looking into Susan's face, told him the dope in the jar wasn't the only thing smouldering.
Chapter 21