One Way To Mars

Chapter 15

'I just can't get it out of myhead, pal,' said Foreman, putting clean sheets on the bed, becausefrankly, Monkley was rubbish at it. 'I keep trying to come up withsome logical explanation. If it was deliberate, what's the motive?How could anyone possibly gain from it? Pass me that blanket. Thanks.Could it be political? I don't see it. Mars belongs to nobody andeverybody. Just about every nation on Earth contributed, and thosewho couldn't afford to, gave it moral support. The project was sohuge, it stopped war in its tracks. For the first time in humanhistory, the whole world was working together.'

He sat on the bed, and Monkleyjumped up beside him. Monkley stroked Foreman's beard. In all theyears together on Earth, Foreman had been clean shaven. The hairyface intrigued the GenMoP. He stroked Foreman's beard and then hisown hairy face.

'Don't worry. I'm not turningchimp. You're the king of the jungle.'

'Monkley. King.'

'But you just remember, pal. Youmight be king of the jungle, I'm still emperor of Mars. Hey. I kindalike that. Andrew Foreman, Emperor of Mars. And my teachers at schoolsaid I'd never amount to anything. Hmm. Not much of an empire. Adirty red rock floating around in space. Maybe we should open up abed and breakfast place. I can just see the blurb. “Tired of thesame old resorts? Reinvigorate yourself on the Red Planet. Miles ofuninterrupted beaches. Bungy jumping off Olympus Mons. Plenty ofparking. Five star cuisine by our experienced chef, Monsieur Monkley.Speciality dish, raw banana.”

'Banana.'

'Of course, we'd soon have tofranchise. Venus, Neptune. Today the solar system, tomorrow thegalaxy.'

'Oooh!'

'That's your answer toeverything. Oooh!'

'Oooh!'

'Come on. I've got a speciallittle job for you, pal.'

In the maintenance room, one areawas dedicated to the storage of seeds and potting. From a storagelocker, Foreman took out a plastic container from which he removed asmall soft tipped paintbrush.

'Brush.'

'Brush.'

'Good. Now. I recentlydiscovered, we've been damned lucky to have the fruit that we havehad. I just sort of took things for granted. No bees in the base. Itturns out, we need to give nature a helping hand.'

'Hand.'

'Exactly. To be more specific,your hands. This is a job eminently suited to you, my little treeclimbing friend.'

'Oooh!'

'I thought you'd be impressed.Now come with me.'

Foreman led the way to thejungle. On one of the apple trees, many of the branches were inblossom. 'Flower. Pretty.'

'Pretty.'

'Now watch very closely. Take thebrush...'

'Brush.'

'And with the tip, carefullytouch this bit. That's the female part.'

'Oooh!'

'Now rub it over this part of thenext flower, the male part.'

'Pretty.'

'Then go onto the next one, andthe next one. Here. You try.'

Monkley handled the brush withthe dexterity of a skilled artist, delicately brushing each blossomin turn.

'Okay. See all those flowers?'

'Pretty.'

'Do this to all the prettyflowers. Off you go.'

Deciding the mission wassufficiently important for the king of the jungle, Monkley set abouthis task with single minded determination. Foreman knew he wouldn'tstop until every blossom had been pollinated. With Monkley fullyoccupied for several hours, Foreman braced himself for moredisappointment at the controls of the radio.

'Foreman to Earth. Foreman toEarth. I just wanna know. Is it something I said? If it is, I'msorry. But I formally invite you to my birthday party in a couple ofweeks. No. Don't bother sending cards. Just come and have a goodtime. We have all the processed pap you can eat and we do a wickedfruit sundae, minus the ice-cream. We have have a very interestingwine and not a bad organic mind bender. Oh. And if there are anysingle ladies out there looking for a good time, I have all of my ownteeth and I might even shave for the occasion. This is definitelyR.S.V. P.'

He sat back and waited. Twentyexcruciating minutes rolled by and he was about to turn off the setwhen he got a reply.

'Foreman. This is Captain MikeMitchum of I S F S Moonstruck. Boy, you're hard to get hold of. Weaccept your invite to the party and should be there in about tendays. Shall we bake a cake?'

Foreman wondered if it was adelayed reaction to a combination of his wine and dope. The radio hadspoken.

'Captain Mitchum. Are you forreal?'

This time, only a minute went by.'Last time I looked in a mirror. The radio signal to Mars has beeninterfered with by solar storms. It's the same from Earth. No ideawhat the hell is going on down there.'

'Yeah. I've been worried sick. Iwas 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 whenyou see mine.'

'Have you come all this way justto rescue me?'

Mitchum laughed. 'Yeah, likeyou're that important. We were already on our way for some work wehave to do. I'll explain when we get there. Hello? Hel...Forem...damnsol...inds...dio breaking up. We'll keep ...ing to con...see ...soon,Foreman.'

'Hello?'

Finally. Something goodhappening. Foreman practically danced out of the room. 'Hey, Monkley.Come down here.'

Monkley dropped down from thetrees, 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 ofa party, pal.'

'Party.'

'Oh. Yeah. Damn. I can hardlybelieve it. I can hardly wait. A bit odd though. Why send anothership here so soon after us? That's what Mitchum said. They werealready on their way. With the cost of these flights, you'd think wewould have all come together. But, hey. I'm not knocking it. It maywell be a cock up in planning, but it means we get to go home.'

'Home.'