AND ANOTHER EXCERPT FROM 'REACH FOR MARS',

“Tell me Gorad, have you ever heard of and/or tasted Alcohol in any of its guises?” I enquired. Gorad glanced over at me,

“That depends, describe some of its guises to me.”

So I did until Gorad held up his hand to silence me,

“I have heard of wine, rum and vodka. I would like a glass of the one with the lowest alcoholic content if you please, as I am driving later.”

I made my way to the kitchen and made a coffee for Nick and myself to go with the rum as I figured he needed it and I knew damned well that I did! I poured a red wine for Gorad and carried it all back to the table on a tray. As I entered the dining area I saw that Gorad was being assaulted with and trying to fend off many questions from the excited crew. I rescued him, sort of, by handing him his wine and with a nod of thanks he took a large swallow from the glass, which was very ill-advised. When sampling our alcoholic products for the first time it is advisable to use utmost caution, we were getting better with practice but the use of the word ‘rough’ when describing the bouquet, taste and character of our red wines was still considered a very polite word to use.

Gorad was suffering bouts of coughing caused by his reckless lack of caution but managed to croak out these words between coughing spasms,

“Smooth! Very smooth! I think I know ........what you do with any............ extra methanol you......... find lying about the place.”

Gorad staggered over to the table and sat in the seat at the head of it while I was hammered by a fusillade of filthy looks from all of my fellow crew-members, except Nick of course. He sat happily sipping his coffee and rum with a beatific smile (and no sympathy whatsoever) on his face while he watched Gorad’s suffering.

“You really should sip it slowly, Gorad,” I said belatedly, “You didn’t give me a chance to warn you.”

Gorad’s coughing abated so he tentatively took a small sip slowly from his glass which only caused a slight hiccup instead of a coughing fit.

“Yeah, I guess that was my mistake. Sorry about that.”

He then stood up and leaned forward to rest on his hands as he placed them on the table before him. Dick interrupted Gorad as he was about to speak,

“Did you build this City?”

“I didn’t, but my ancestors did, and we want it back. So if you could pack up all your stuff and clear out by the end of the month we would very much appreciate it!”

And another from 'WE ARE MARTIAN',

. He stood in the doorway with his helmet still on and his suit charred with Carbon exhaust from his directional thrusters, and still smoking. He stepped into the room and with a slight hiss of escaping oxygen undid the locking clamps of his helmet and lifted it over his head, then tucked it under his arm as Nick and I had done.

The countenance of the creature that was revealed by the removal of that helmet was sort of surprising to me. It wasn’t green, lumpy and bumpy with huge ears, antennas poking out of the top of its head and a protruding snout, constantly drooling, dribbling and possibly even foaming. Nor did it have Burning eyes of any colour!

The creature’s face that was revealed by the removal of that helmet was very definitely human in a very surprising way. Gorad had golden blonde hair swept back from his thin, slightly pale aristocratic face, with the most peaceful, calming, and kindest blue eyes I had ever seen. In fact the powerful presence that emanated from Gorad was exactly that, I felt calm, at ease and safe in his presence. An effect that was increased even more, I noticed, when he smiled,

“Greetings Earthlings,” He paused as his smile grew, “or perhaps I should say Martians. My name is Gorad. I am an Explorer, Scout and Ambassador from the planet ‘Zengrila’ and I mean you no Harm or Hassles.”

He placed his helmet on the end of the table then stepped back and leaned against the wall behind him as Nick and I moved forward and stood on either side of the table then placed our helmets alongside Gorad’s. Yeah, I’m sure anybody reading this with their PhD’s in Psychology firmly grasped in their hands  are probably saying to themselves that surely this act was a subconscious aligning with, and deference of authority to Gorad. Well those people can shove their PhD’s where the Sun never shines (except in their own minds) and grasp something else of theirs firmly in their hands if it pleases them. Nick had nothing but nasty thoughts about Gorad at that time and would certainly not even consider doing anything that might in any way help or please him, and nor would I. The table where his helmet rested just happened to be the closest flat surface to put our helmets down on and as we were tired of holding them tucked under our arms and we wanted a drink, which also happened to be on that particular table!

ANOTHER EXCERPT FROM THE UP AND COMING NOVEL: 'WE ARE MARTIAN.':

 I then shut off the long range Receiver/Transmitter to prevent any further argument or questions from Dick. This would not have prevented any conversation between the three occupants of the buggy however, yet we travelled the remaining distance to the city in silence. Nick’s silence was worrying me because in all the years I had known him he had never been silent for longer than 45 seconds, even when he was asleep.

The scuttlebutt (maritime version of rumours on the grapevine) on the aircraft carrier while Nick and I were stationed on it was that Nick snored so loudly that if the aircraft carrier was going to be sailing closer than 10 kilometres off enemy shores the Captain commissioned four sailors to guard Nick to ensure that he did not fall asleep and therefore alert the enemy to our presence. It was told that the Captain seriously considered making it a permanent detail so that the whole crew of the carrier could get a decent night’s sleep occasionally! Imagine if you will the considerable amplification and echo effect in a steel enclosure! The only way that I can think of for it to be worse would be if Nick was stationed on a submarine! But one has to ask why the Hell a pilot would be stationed on a Submarine, unless of course, he was a very bad pilot!

(Those of you who have read the earlier entries in these historical Chronicles may remember that I do have a tendency to sometimes ‘ramble on’ when left to my own devices!).

Anyway, after his impassioned plea to refuse Gorad’s requests Nick sat silently, some might even say sullenly, in the passenger seat. He didn’t even bother making any smart-arse derogatory remarks about, or directly at, Gorad. I guessed that the effects of the momentary drop in his oxygen supply had befuddled his normal behavioural traits for the time being, as I am pretty sure was the intended effect for least resistance. One thing I was sure of, however, he sure as hell wasn’t himself!

After I drove into the access tunnel and then straight into the open airlock Gorad broke the long silence,

“I’ve got this, Drew.”

I glanced in the rear view mirror in time to see Gorad push a button on his watch that made the outer hangar doors slide shut. While I waited for the airlock to re-pressurize so the inner airlock doors would slide open I ruminated silently to myself that me being right all the time can sometimes be a hugely annoying pain in the ass to me as well as everybody else!

I drove forward into the city as the inner airlock doors slid open, then pulled up and parked outside the door to the Terminal Cafe. I climbed out of the buggy then glanced back at Nick to see if I would have to assist him from the buggy into the Cafe and watched with relief as he climbed out of the buggy and marched through the door under his own steam. I followed him then stepped to the right side of the doorway as I removed my helmet and tucked it under my arm as Nick had just done on the left of the doorway.

 The rest of the crew looked up at us with mildly enquiring expressions on their faces which suddenly collapsed into eye-widening, jaw-dropping shock, and I knew that Gorad had just entered behind us. You could have cut the stunned atmosphere in the Cafe with a knife, but it would have been a lot easier with a chainsaw I thought to myself as I turned to look back at Gorad.

ANOTHER EXCERPT FROM THE NOVEL 'WE ARE MARTIAN.'

“I would consider it a sign of Universal camaraderie and goodwill if you would remove your hand from your weapon and drive on to the city, Drew. We mean you no harm and all will be explained when we can sit down in comfort, face to face and have a relaxed chat. Also, as I do not like repeating myself, would you be so kind as to contact the rest of your crew and have them meet us in your usual common gathering area when we arrive.”

“Don’t do it Drew! Why do a ‘Trojan Horse’ by driving him through our defences and into our city, not to mention herding our people into one place to make it easier for Gonad and his space goons to contain and/or kill us all.?!”

“What choice do we have, Nick? Take another look upwards and see if the Spaceship is still above us if you like. Check the load in your pistol to see if it still has any bullets in it if you like, it doesn’t really make any difference anyway. The Spaceman is unarmed and alone and therefore supposedly vulnerable while he‘s with us, but obviously he doesn’t consider that he is. I bet he’s got a couple of remote control buttons on his watch that control the Airlock systems of our City, and what defences would we be driving him through as we don’t have any, and I’m damn sure Gorad knows it. I suspect that if he had wanted to wipe us out he could and would have done it without putting on this histrionic pantomime for us just to introduce him-self.” I glanced back at the Spaceman,

“You buggered up Nick’s Oxygen regulator as well, didn’t you? How did you manage to do that?”

“I sent out an electro-magnetic beam that partially closed off his regulator to reduce Nick to a state of semi-consciousness for a while when I waved to him. Shall we proceed on to the City where we can continue this conversation in more comfortable surroundings, Drew?”

I did as Gorad had asked, all of it! Dick answered when I put out the general call on the R/T Comm. Channel,

“Dick, can you get the whole crew to meet us in the ‘Hangout’ cafeteria? We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

“I guess so, why?”

ONE MORE EXCERPT FROM THE NOVEL,'WE ARE MARTIAN.'

“Oh right. What the Fuck are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry, Drew. It will all come back to him as his brain recovers from the oxygen deprivation.” said the Spaceman.

“Who the Fuck said that?”

“The Spaceman that fell out of the sky,” I replied helpfully.

Nick jumped as a gloved hand appeared before him from behind,

“My name is Gorad, the Spaceman that fell out of the sky, Nick. I am very pleased to meet you.”

Completely surprised and flustered Nick took the gloved hand and shook it. His consternation was greatly increased when the gloved hand withdrew and then re appeared holding Nick’s gun by the barrel.

“Yours, I believe.” Gorad then sat back in his seat as Nick took the gun and holstered it before adding,

“Don’t worry Nick. We’ll be back in the City very shortly, just a few more minutes at this speed.”

Nick was understandably totally surprised and flustered, but I wasn’t too far behind him. As I drove towards the city I thought back over the conversations and events that had transpired after meeting the Spaceman. I was pretty damn sure that I had not mentioned Nick’s name to the Spaceman, and yet he knew it. I saw Nick’s gun when Gorad handed it back to him, the hammer was down and the safety was engaged. I wondered if it was still loaded or whether the bullets were now resting safely in a pocket of Gorad’s Spacesuit. But what really worried me was how the hell he knew where the City was, and therefore how close we were to it. Suddenly another thought exploded into my already overloaded and rapidly overheating mind, causing me to slam on the brakes, bringing the buggy to yet another sliding, dusty stop as I twisted in my seat to look back at the Spaceman, who was still sitting placidly in the back with his hands resting calmly on his knees while my right hand rested tensely on the butt of my pistol.

“What the Hell did you fall out of, or should I say jump out of?”

Still sitting placidly in the back seat the Spaceman answered,

“Look up Drew.”

I did as I was told, as did Nick. I had never had much time for, or much interest in, movies or television in my adult life and even less in Science Fiction (Yeah I know, surprising when you consider that I would eventually wind up living in a Science Fiction adventure). But a phrase from one of the few Science Fiction movies I had seen sprung into my mind as I looked up,

“RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!”

Hovering quietly about eight hundred meters above us was a spacecraft similar in size and silhouette to one of our Star-ships.

ANOTHER EXCERPT FROM THE SOON TO BE RELEASED NOVEL,'WE ARE MARTIAN.'

It was then that the Spaceman punched me on the arm,

“Relax Drew, I was just throwing an electro-magnetic spanner in your propulsion systems, feel free to laugh if you like.”

I didn’t. I had never met such a strange Spaceman before in my life, although to be perfectly honest I had never actually met a real Spaceman before. I’d met human Spacemen on my home planet, like Neil Armstrong a few times and ‘Buzz’ Aldrin a few more times when I was in Astronaut training. They were extremely personable, friendly and down-to Earth blokes, quite extraordinary when you consider that they had not only been the first men to fly to the moon and back, but also to walk upon it.

 Gorad was the first Spaceman I had ever met that was actually from another Planet, but I couldn’t help wondering what Planet this Spaceman was from and what percentage of the population walked around on it wearing Straight-Jackets!

We reached the buggy and I was surprised to find that Nick had not only not moved or acknowledged our presence with a smartarse comment but I thought I heard a slight snore over the com. channel. I leaned over and checked his oxygen regulator and found to my horror that the pressure was significantly lower than it should be. I was checking his tank to make sure that the oxygen feed valve was fully open when Gorad asked,

“Is there a problem?”

“His oxygen regulator is mal functioning, he’s not getting enough oxygen!”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry too much about it, they do malfunction sometimes.”

He then leaned forward, tapped the offending regulator and I watched in amazement as the digital readout started to climb back towards the green zone. After a few seconds Nick stirred then groaned, and I think farted judging by the sound I heard over the com. I raced around and jumped into the driver’s seat as Gorad climbed into the back, but instead of settling gently back into the backseat he was thrown into the backseat as I pointed the buggy towards the city and launched it at ‘full speed ahead’.

“You can slow down if you want, Drew. Your friend isn’t in any danger, except from your driving, that is. It seems rather pointless bouncing around the Martian landscape at great speed then constantly having to back track to pick up the passengers that have been flung out, don’t you think?”

I glanced back at the Spaceman in the rear view mirror as I eased off on the throttle. He was sitting calmly and completely at ease in the back seat.

“What the Hell is going on Drew?”

I glanced over at Nick,

“Your Oxygen regulator mal-functioned but Gorad fixed it.”

“Oh right. Who the Hell is Gorad?”

“He’s the Spaceman that fell out of the sky.”

AN EXCERPT FROM THE SOON TO BE PUBLISHED BOOK,'WE ARE MARTIAN'.

Nick and I were bouncing and jouncing across the landscape of Mars in a buggy one fine Martian morning when I glanced up at the sky while waiting for my ass to recontact my driver’s seat after a particularly high bounce (or it may have been a jounce). I slammed on the brakes and brought the buggy to a skidding, dusty halt as I continued to stare at the object that had caught my attention up there. Nick straightened up in his seat and twisted around to look at me,

“Why the Fuck did you do that?”

With my eyes still firmly fixed on the object in the Martian sky I raised my right arm and pointed up at it as I replied,

“That’s something you don’t see every day!”

Nick twisted and leaned back slightly so his gaze could follow the direction of my pointing finger,

“Why the Fuck is there a Spaceman falling out of the sky towards us?”

“That is a very good question and I wish I had a very good answer to it but the fact that I’m not the only one who sees it means that I’m not suffering from Martian madness!”

“I wouldn’t be too quick to leap to that conclusion if I were you.” Nick replied.

I put the buggy into reverse and backed up 50 metres to ensure that the Spaceman didn’t land on us, then pulled on the handbrake and shut off the engine as I didn’t think we would be going anywhere for a while. I suspected that even at this distance from the Spaceman’s predicted ‘Impact Zone’ I may still have to clean bits of Spaceman off my windscreen so I could see where I was going.

Nick and I were sitting silently watching as the Spaceman plummeted towards the ground when the Spaceman suddenly exploded into flames. The fireball that used to be the Spaceman streaked through the sky like a comet until I noticed its rate of descent was rapidly slowing as it neared the ground then suddenly stopped falling and hovered two metres above the ground for a brief moment before gently touching down on the Martian surface in a huge cloud of billowing red dust. The flames died out and the Martian dust settled gradually revealing to us the figure of the Spaceman standing firmly on the ground with legs apart, hands on hips and smoke rising from his suit as he faced us.

I glanced to my left and saw Nick surreptitiously remove his pistol from its holster and rest it on his seat as he flicked off the safety. I released the flap on the holster of my weapon as well as the safety on the pistol before I climbed out of the buggy and walked over to meet the Spaceman, keeping my right hand well clear of my holster so as not to alarm him. He did not move a muscle as I approached him until I was roughly a metre from him when his open right hand shot out towards me,

“Man, it has been a lot of decades since I last did that, I had forgotten how much of a blast it is! Howdy stranger, my name is Gorad, and not in any way related to the legendary Dragon.”

As his extended right hand was empty I took it and shook it,

“Howdy stranger, my name is Drew. You certainly know how to make an entrance, very subtle and low key.”

“Thanks, we don’t use these suits much anymore as the Parasuits are much easier and more comfortable to use, not to mention far less likely to set you on fire. But they don’t have the flash, flair and visual impact that these suits do. You can tell your friend that he can put his pistol away, I am unarmed and mean you no harm or bad Vibes.”

He then released his grip on my hand and waved at Nick sitting in the buggy. Nick responded by raising his hand and waving back. To my horror I saw that he was waving back while still holding his pistol in his hand. I moved in front of Gorad and moved my hand in a cutting motion at Nick. He stopped waving the gun about, looked up at it in his raised right hand then threw it onto the back seat. Surprised that it didn’t go off with the impact I turned slowly back to face Gorad,

“Sorry about that! He’s not the brightest star in the firmament, or anywhere else in the whole damn Universe for that matter!”

“Not a problem, every space crew has at least one loose cannon. So take me to your Leader then.”

“He IS our Leader...........! Sorry, just joking. We don’t actually have a leader. We work together as one for the good of us all, not to mention survival. But I can take you to our city and offer you sustenance.”

“I have no idea what sustenance is but by all means let’s do that.”

As we walked towards the buggy I explained to Gorad what sustenance was,

“Oh right, food and drink. Why didn’t you just say food and drink? It would have been much easier to say and understand and would have saved a lot of precious oxygen.”

“I don’t know. I think I had a reason at the time but I don’t remember what it was