One Way To Mars

Chapter 2

Conserving energy, neither saidmuch. Monkley had a vocabulary of around five hundred words, butCommander Phillips had seen fit to expand on that on the journey,adding several expletives to the young GenMop's repertoire. AsMonkley's keeper and trainer, Foreman had politely asked Phillips onnumerous occasions to desist the practice, but to no avail. Soon, allhumans were collectively known as a*sholes.

The Martian day, roughly the sameas Earth days in duration, was turning into night. Although the suitswould spare them from most of the effects of the freezingtemperatures, Foreman had no desire to test them any more thannecessary. After all, he thought. He'd trusted the ship, and lookwhat happened to that.

'Are we there, yet?'

It was something Monkley askedevery twenty or so minutes. Foreman noticed the little guy wasgetting progressively weaker each time he asked. Eventually, Monkleysat down in the red iron oxide, exhausted.

'Come on, pal. Stay here, wedie.'

Monkley didn't seem overlyconcerned. It was if he had faced the question of his own mortality,and dying seemed a preferable option to him than the continuingtrudge through the soft red sandy dirt. They had walked for ninestraight hours, and although the landmark of Olympus Mons mountainseemed so many miles away, Foreman had no intention of just sittingdown to wait for death. He did sit, however. He wrapped his arm aboutMonkley. Those big trusting brown eyes stared up at him. They hadbeen together four years, ever since the Genmop had been created. Itwas the only reason Foreman had been allowed on the trip in the firstplace. The Genmops were part of a program to create a more expendablealternative to humans. Capable of understanding many commands, moreintelligent than the smartest of dogs, they could be easily trainedto perform basic tasks. The artificial voice box was a vastimprovement on the chimp's original, giving him greater range ofsounds and expression. It had been Foreman who had worked with him tomaster speech.

The purpose of the trip was,amongst others, to do the essential maintenance on the base, makemodifications to the automatic plant and train Monkley to look afterthe place during human absence. Depending on how well Monkley adaptedand performed, he would be left behind to run the place until thehumans returned a couple of years later to establish a colony. Thathad been the part Foreman was least comfortable about. He loved thelittle guy, but had promised to act in a mature and responsible waywhen the time came to leave. He had assured the brass he could andwould do it. Now, it wasn't even an option.

Above them, in the dust ladennight sky, the two tiny moons, Phobos, twice the size and much closerthan Deimos, twinkled star-like above them. Deimos was nowhere to beseen. They rested a few minutes more, and then Foreman forced histhirty eight year old body onto his feet.

'Come on, Monkely.' Monkelydidn't move. 'I'm not leaving you, pal. Come on. On my back.'