Spending time in an airlock was possibly the most soul-destroying waste of time imaginable. The calls to the field team at regular intervals provided little entertainment; they were terse, strictly protocol, and yielded no surprises. Bones and Leela were on their way; then they were in position. So far, they had observed nothing and sunrise was only fifteen minutes away.

No surprises were good in a way, but the roar of silence in the airlock did nothing for his inner ants, swarming his suit.

First Floyd counted bolts. Then, he counted icons on the touch-board. Once he ran out of icons, his gaze fell on PEMAR. He'd better check the thing was in working order. Leela was no technician. She might have bollixed something up.

"Bones to Base. Do you copy?" the communicator squawked.

Floyd extricated himself from the back of their transport and shuffled across.

"Bones to Base?"

Yeah, yeah, try running in a suit.

"Base to Bones. Copied."

"Okay, it's sunrise minus ten. Still nothing, apart from a nice peachy glow on the horizon. We're doing fine. Anything your end?"

Floyd gave the instruments a quick once-over. The perimeter screen displaying the tiny white figures of Leela and Bones was steady, the image crystal-clear. He then turned, scanning the inside of the airlock.

"Nah. All systems green."

"Long may it stay that way. Gimme a holler if you notice anything. Bones out."

This comms hadn't strictly been necessary, and only because Floyd knew Bones well did the tiny quiver in the man's voice even register.

Bones was shit-scared. So would he be, if he were standing in a Martian dawn, awaiting the unknown.

"Base to Bones. Roger and good luck. Base out."

Why was there a quiver in his own voice?

One of the two tiny white figures waved. The other, despite the distance, managed to convey a sense of disgruntlement.

All quiet on the Western front.

He squeezed his space-suited butt onto the support and glued his gaze to the screen. Top right, time ticked by all too slowly in large blue numerals that faded into the grayish-blue haze of the Martian morning.

He shouldn't have drunk the insta-caf. It churned in his stomach like an acid washer.

D minus one. Dawn was almost over.

Mesmerized, he scanned the screen for any movement other than the sun now spreading an opaque glow over the sky. The glow turned brighter and suddenly there was a glitter of light.

The sun was rising.

A wave of relief, tiredness, and frustration washed over Floyd and he sagged in his seat. Despite the suit, its hard surface dug into the small of his back.

No one had been there for the meet and greet. Well, what did they expect?

"Bones to Base. Do you copy?"

"Base to Bones. Copied."

"Well, I guess that was a bit of a washout, eh? No green Martians to say hello? No Pacificos. Nada. Just nothing."

"Maybe they're fashionably late?"

"Huh. You don't believe that yourself."

"Not really, no. Come back, this is pointless. Paulsen will have to accept that the skeleton's gone. And we have better things to do than arse around all the time."

"Truer words were never spoken. We're returning to base. Leela wants to check the oxygen generators first, so ETA will be around seven. Bones out."

"Base to Bones. Copied."

With a sigh, Floyd set the comms unit to standby and slipped off his seat.

He swung around.

His stomach plummeted to the floor of the airlock.

The door to the living space stood open.

He'd closed it. He knew he'd closed the damn thing. Not only that, when he last checked everything in the airlock had been fine. Including the damn door. He would have noticed had it stood open.

This wasn't possible. This simply wasn't possible.

Leela would ride his scrawny ass if she found out.

With a snarl, Floyd activated the life support-functions of his suit.

Helmet—check.

Air-supply pack—check.

Comms functions—check.

With a careful shuffle, he headed for their living space, his heartbeat filling his chest, his head. His whole body was thrumming with totally inappropriate panic as he put first one foot, then the other, across the threshold.

Everything looked just as it should. There was the plastex table, the two mugs of insta-caf still standing on the surface.

There was the tiny galley and the two doors leading to the work-space and the dorm corridor. There was the big porthole that gave them a full view of the perimeter, where two small white figures were still clambering about. That they didn't hurry told him, all was well outside.

Just as things seemed to be here.

But that door shouldn't have been open.

An oversight? Had he simply not noticed.

Rubbish. The door had been shut.

"Why are you wearing this clunky thing? Isn't this your living area where you should relax?" The voice came from behind him, from the airlock.

Something colder than a Martian night slithered down his spine.

The airlock had been empty. Even PMAR had been empty. He'd checked.

He'd checked everything, dammit.

There was movement in his peripheral vision. Someone walked in from the airlock and passed him with slow, measured steps.

The smell of moist soil, of rushing rivers and meadows filled with blooms and bees filled his nose.

Then she was past.

She, yes. Had to be, though it was hard to tell with the complex layers of tawny hide and small pieces of fur that covered her body. She was short, but no shorter than Leela, solid of built, and she had long cinnamon blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Beads and feathers were woven into the glistening locks, and everything shimmied and fluttered as she walked.

In a fluid movement, she swung around.

Floyd took a step back.

The woman's eyes were a bright, piercing blue that shone from under a dominant brow ridge. Her nose was rather bulbous, but it suited the strong contours of her wide, heart-shaped face that radiated a beauty born from strength and competence. Little horn ornaments and feathers dangled from her ears. 

His gaze slipped down. She wore a pair of red high heels. He looked up again.

The generous mouth stretched into a smile.

"Greetings, Plainbrain. Finally, we meet."

"Who...who are you?"

The smile lit up her entire face and he could have sworn something among all those furs twinkled and flashed.

"Call me El. My real name you might find rather unpronounceable."

Synapses in Floyd's numbed brain clicked and switched. He'd seen her likeness before. In a museum on Earth when he'd been a child.

"But...you're...you're a Neanderthal."

(1038 words/9893)

This chapter is dedicated to @SallyMason1 one of my oldest friends on Wattpad. She's entering ONC with two stories "Mirror, Mirror on the Wall" and "The Last Waltz"

The image above is taken from the Natural History Museum in London, UK. Neanderthals weren't all that different from Homo Sapiens, and we share 99,7% of the genes. The might have gone extinct 40.000 years ago, but the two species interbred, and quite a few of us still carry their heritage. It has been said that they were smaller und stockier than us. But back then, "modern humans" also weren't as tall as they are now. Why did they go extinct? There are many theories, I just copy wikipedia for a general introduction. My theory, of course, is slightly different... And one does wonder, does one, what the heck the woman's doing on Mars. More soon!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neanderthal_extinction#:~:text=extinction%20by%20interbreeding%20with%20early,inbreeding%20depression.

Music is by Two Steps from Hell. Best drama ever.