“Ok,” Venkat said. “Explain to me how a single windstorm removed our ability to talk to Ares 3.”
“Failure of imagination,” Chuck said.
“Totally didn’t see it coming,” Morris agreed.
“How many back-up communication systems does an Ares mission have?” Venkat asked.
“Four,” Chuck said.
“Three,” Morris said.
“No, it’s four,” Chuck corrected.
“He said back-up systems,” Morris insisted. “That means not including the primary system.”
“Oh right. Three.”
“So four systems total, then,” Venkat said. “Explain how we lost all four.”
“Well,” Chuck said, “The primary ran through the big satellite dish. It blew away in the storm. The rest of the backups were the MAV.”
“Yup,” Morris agreed. “The MAV is, like, a communicating machine. It can talk to Earth, Hermes, even satellites around Mars if it has to. And it has three independent systems to make sure nothing short of a meteor strike can stop communication.”
“Problem is,” Chuck said. “Commander Lewis and the rest of them took the MAV when they left.”
“So four independent communication systems became one. And that one broke,” Morris finished.
Venkat pinched the bridge of his nose. “How could we overlook this?”
Chuck shrugged. “Never occurred to us. We never thought someone would be on Mars without an MAV.”
“I mean, come on!” Morris said. “What are the odds?”
Chuck turned to him. “One in three, based on empirical data. That’s pretty bad if you think about it.”
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Annie said. “We have an important announcement to make. If you could all take your seats,”
“What this about, Annie?” A reporter asked. “Something happen with Hermes?”
“Please take your seats,” Annie repeated.
The reporters mingled a bit, argued over seats for a short time, then finally settled down.
“This is a short, but very important announcement,” Annie said. “I won’t be taking any questions at this time, but we will have a full press conference with Q&A in about an hour. We have recently reviewed satellite imagery from Mars, and have confirmed that astronaut Mark Watney is, currently, still alive.”
After one full second of utter silence, the room exploded with noise.
“I’m getting sick of daily press conferences,” Venkat said.
“I’m getting sick of hourly press conferences,” Annie countered.
“Sorry I’m late,” Teddy said, entering the crowded press room. Managers from every department stood shoulder to shoulder in the back, while reporters crammed the pit.
Teddy pulled some flash cards from his pocket, then cleared his throat.
“In the nine days since announcing Mark Watney’s survival, we’re received a massive show of support from all sectors. We’re using this shamelessly every way we can.”
A small chuckle cascaded through the room.
“Yesterday, at our request, the entire SETI network focused on Mars. Just in case Watney was sending a weak radio signal. Turns out he wasn’t, but it shows the level of commitment everyone has toward helping us.
“The public is engaged, and we will do our best to keep everyone informed. I’ve recently learned CNN will be dedicating a half-hour segment every weekday to reporting on just this issue. We will assign several members of our Media Relations team to that program, so the public can get the latest information as fast as possible.
“We have adjusted the orbits of three satellites to get more view time on the Ares 3 site, and hope to catch an image of him outside soon. If we can see him outside, we will be able to draw conclusions on his physical health based on stance and activities.
“The questions are many: How long can he last? How much food does he have? Can Ares 4 rescue him? How will we talk to him? The answers to these questions are not what we want to hear.
“I can’t promise we’ll succeed in rescuing him, but I can promise this: The entire focus of NASA will be to bring Mark Watney home. This will be our overriding and singular obsession until he is either back on Earth, or confirmed dead on Mars.”
“Nice speech,” Venkat said as he entered Teddy’s office.
“Meant every word of it,” Teddy said.
“Oh, I know.”
“What can I do for you, Venk?”
“I’ve got an idea. Well, JPL has an idea. I’m the messenger.”
“I like ideas,” Teddy said, gesturing to a seat.
Venkat sat down.
“We can rescue him with Ares 4. It’s very risky. We ran the idea by the Ares 4 crew. Not only are they willing to do it, but now they’re really pushing hard for it.”
“Naturally,” Teddy said. “Astronauts are inherently insane. And really noble. What’s the idea?”
“Well,” Venkat began, “It’s in the rough stages, but JPL thinks the MDV can be misused to save him.”
“Ares 4 hasn’t even launched yet. Why misuse an MDV. Why not make something better?”
“We don’t have time to make a custom craft. Actually, he can’t even survive till Ares 4 gets there, but that’s a different problem.”
“So tell me about the MDV.”
“JPL strips it down, loses some weight, and adds some fuel tanks. Ares 4’s crew lands at the Ares 3 site, very efficiently. Then, with a full burn, and I mean a full burn, they can lift off again. It can’t get back to orbit, but it can go to the Ares 4 site on a lateral trajectory that’s, well, really scary. Then they have an MAV. This would require a massive design and construction effort, but JPL says they can make it happen.”
“How are they losing weight?” Teddy asked. “Don’t they already have it as light as it can be?”
“By removing safety and emergency equipment.”
“Wonderful,” Teddy said, “So we’d be risking the lives of six more people in a very dangerous landing, re-liftoff, re-landing process.”
“Yup,” Venkat said. “It would be safer to leave the Ares 4 crew in Hermes, and only send the pilot down with the MDV. But that would mean giving up the mission and they’d rather risk death.”
“They’re astronauts,” Teddy said.
“They’re astronauts,” Venkat confirmed.
“Well. That’s a ludicrous idea and I’ll never ok it.”
“We’ll work on it some more,” Venkat said. “Try to make it safer.”
“Do that. Any idea how to keep him alive for four years?”
“Nope.”
“Work on that, too.”
“Will do,” Venkat said.
Teddy swiveled his chair and looked out the window to the sky beyond. Night was edging in. “What must it be like?” He pondered. “He’s stuck out there. He thinks he’s totally alone and that we all gave up on him. What kind of effect does that have on a man’s psychology?”
He turned back to Venkat. “I wonder what he’s thinking right now.”
LOG ENTRY: SOL 61
How come Aquaman can control whales? They’re mammals! Makes no sense.
Chapter 7
LOG ENTRY: SOL 63
I finished making water some time ago. I’m no longer in danger of blowing myself up. The potatoes are growing nicely. Nothing has conspired to kill me in weeks. And ‘70’s TV keeps me disturbingly more entertained than it should. Things are stable here on Mars.
It’s time to start thinking long term.
Even if I find a way to tell NASA I’m alive, there’s no guarantee they’ll be able to save me. I need to be proactive. I need to figure out how to get to Ares 4.
Won’t be easy.
Ares 4 will be landing at the Schiaparelli Crater, 3,200km away. In fact, their MAV is already there. I know because I watched Martinez land it.
It takes 18 months for the MAV to make its fuel, so it’s the first thing NASA sends along. Sending it 48 months early gives it plenty of extra time in case fuel reactions go slower than expected. But much more importantly, it means a precision soft-landing can be done remotely by a pilot in orbit. Direct remote operation from Houston isn’t an option; they’re anywhere from 4 to 20 light-minutes away.
Ares 4’s MAV spent 11 months getting to Mars. Using less fuel and taking a longer route, it got there around the same time as us. As expected, Martinez landed it beautifully. It was one of the last things we did before piling in to our MDV and heading to the surface. Ahh, the good old days, when I had a crew with me.
I’m lucky. 3,200km isn’t that bad. It could have been up to 10,000km away. And because I’m on the flattest part of Mars, the first 650km is nice, smooth terrain (Yay Acidalia Planitia!) but the rest of it is nasty, rugged, crater-pocked hell.
Obviously, I’ll have to use a rover. And guess what? They weren’t designed for massive overland journeys.
This is going to be a research effort, with a bunch of experimentation. I’ll have to become my own little NASA, figuring out how to explore far from the Hab. The good news is I have lots of time to figure it out. Almost 4 years.
Some stuff is obvious. I’ll need to use a rover. It’ll take a long time, so I’ll need to bring supplies. I’ll need to recharge en-route, and rovers don’t have solar cells. I’ll need to steal some from the Hab’s solar farm. During the trip I’ll need to breathe, eat, and drink.
Lucky for me, the tech specs for everything are right here in the computer.
I’ll need to trick out a rover. Basically it’ll have to be a mobile Hab. I’ll pick Rover 2 as my target. We have a certain bond, after I spent two days in it during the “Great Hydrogen Scare of Sol 37.”
There’s too much shit to think about all at once. So for now, I’ll just think about power.
Our mission had a 10km operational radius. Knowing we wouldn’t take straight-line paths, NASA designed the rovers to go 35km on a full charge. That presumes flat, reasonable terrain. Each rover has a 9000Wh battery.
Step one is to loot Rover 1’s battery and install it in Rover 2. Ta-daa! I just doubled my full-charge range.
There’s just one complication. Heating.
Part of the battery power goes to heating the rover. Mars is really cold. Normally, we were expected to do all EVAs in under 5 hours. But I’ll be living in it 24½ hours a day. According to the specs, the heating equipment soaks up 400W. Keeping it on would eat up 9800Wh per day. Over half my power supply, every day!
But I do have a free source of heat: Me. A couple million years of evolution gave me “warm blooded” technology. I can wear layers. The rover has good insulation, too. It’ll have to be enough; I need every bit of power.
And because I need to bundle up anyway, I can deactivate the heater outright and use all the power for motion (minus a negligible amount for computer, life support, etc.)
According to my boring math, moving the rover eats 200Wh of juice to go 1km, so using the full 18,000Wh gets me 90km of travel. Now we’re talkin’.
I’ll never actually get 90km on a single charge. I’ll have hills to deal with, and rough terrain, sand, etc. But it’s a good ballpark. It tells me that it would take at least 35 days of travel to get to Ares 4. It’ll probably be more like 50. But that’s plausible, at least.
At the rover’s blazing 25kph top speed, it’ll take me 3½ hours before I run the battery down. I’d like to charge the battery up during the rest of the day. I can drive in twilight, and save the sunny part of the day for charging. This time of year I get about 13 hours of light. How many solar cells will I have to pilfer from the Hab’s farm?
Thanks to the fine taxpayers of America, I have over 100 of square meters of the most expensive solar paneling ever made. It has an astounding 10.2% efficiency, which is good because Mars doesn’t get as much sunlight as Earth. Only 500 to 700 watts per square meter (Compared to the 1400 those spoiled Earthlings get).
Long story short: I need to bring 28 square meters of solar cell. That’s 14 panels.
I can put two stacks of 7 on the roof. They’ll stick out over the edges, but as long as they’re secure I’m happy. Every day, after driving, I’ll spread them out then… wait all day. Man it’ll be dull.
Well it’s a start. Tomorrow’s mission: transfer Rover 1’s battery to Rover 2.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 64
Sometimes things are easy, and sometimes they’re not. Getting the battery out of Rover 1 was easy. I removed two clamps on the undercarriage and it dropped right out. The cabling is easy to detach, too. It’s just a couple of complicated plugs.
Attaching it to Rover 2, however, is another story. There’s nowhere to put it!
The things is huge. I was barely able to drag it. And that’s in Mars gravity.
It’s just too big. There’s no room in the undercarriage for a second one. There’s no room on the roof, either. That’s where the solar cells will go. There’s no room inside the cabin, and it wouldn’t fit through the airlock anyway.
But fear not, I found a solution.
For emergencies completely unrelated to this one, NASA provided 6 square meters of Hab canvas, and some really impressive resin. The same kind of resin, in fact, that saved my life on Sol 6 (the patch kit I used on the hole in my suit).
In the event of a Hab breach, everyone would run to the airlocks. Procedure was to let it pop rather than die trying to prevent it. Then, we’d suit up and assess the damage. Once we found the breach, we’d seal it with the spare Hab canvas and resin. Then re-inflate and we’re good as new.
The 6 square meters of spare canvas was a convenient 1x6 meters. I cut 10cm wide strips, then used them to make a sort of harness.
I used the resin and straps to make two 10m circumference loops. Then I put a big patch of canvas on each end. I now had poor-man’s saddlebags for my rover.
This is getting more and more “Wagon Train” every day.
The resin sets almost instantly. But it gets stronger if you wait an hour. So I did. Then I suited up and headed out to the rover.
I dragged the battery to the side of the rover and looped one end of the harness around it. Then I threw the other end over the roof. On the other side, I filled it with rocks. When the two weights were roughly equal, I was able to pull the rocks down and bring the battery up.
Yay!
Unplugging Rover 2’s battery, I plugged in Rover 1’s. Then I went through the airlock to the rover and checked all systems. Everything was a-ok.
I drove the rover around a bit to make sure the harness was secure. I found a few large-ish rocks to drive over, just to shake things up. The harness held. Hell yeah.
For a short time, I wondered how to splice the second battery’s leads into the main power supply. My conclusion was “Fuck it.”
There’s no need to have a continuous power supply. When Battery 1 runs out, I can get out, unplug Battery 1 and plug in Battery 2. Why not? It’s a 10 minute EVA, once per day. I’d have to swap batteries again when charging, but again: so what?
I spent the rest of the day sweeping off the solar cell farm. Soon, I shall be looting it.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 65
The solar cells were a lot easier to manage than the battery.
They’re thin, light, and just laying around on the ground. And I had one additional bonus: I was the one who set them up In the first place.
Well, ok. It wasn’t just me. Vogel and I worked together on it. And boy did we drill on it. We spent almost an entire week drilling on the solar array alone. Then we drilled more whenever they figured we had spare time. It had been deemed mission critical. If we fucked it up and broke the cells or rendered them useless, the Hab wouldn’t be able to make power, and the mission would end.
You might wonder what the rest of the crew were doing. They were setting up the Hab. Remember, everything in my glorious kingdom came here in boxes. We had to set it up on Sols 1 and 2.
Each solar cell is on a lightweight lattice that holds it at a 14 degree angle. I’ll admit I don’t know why it’s a 14 degree angle. Something about maximizing solar energy. Anyway, removing the cells was simple. Then it was time to stack them on the rover.
I considered removing the rock sample container. It’s nothing more than a large canvas bag attached to the roof. Way too small to hold the solar cells. But after some thought I left it there, figuring It’ll provide a good cushion.
The cells stacked well (they were made to, for transport to Mars), and the two stacks sat nicely on the roof. They hung over the left and right edges, but I won’t be going through any tunnels so I don’t care.
With some more abuse of the emergency Hab material, I made straps and tied the cells down. The rover has external handles near the front and back. They’re there to help us load rocks on the roof. They made perfect anchor points for the straps.
I stood back and admired my work. Hey, I earned it. It wasn’t even noon and I was done.
I came back to the Hab, had some lunch, and worked on my crops for the rest of the sol. It's been 39 sols since I planted the potatoes (which is about 40 Earth days), and it was time to reap and re-sow.
They grew even better than I had expected. Mars has no insects, parasites, or blights to deal with, and the Hab maintains perfect growing temperature and moisture at all times.
They were small compared to the taters you'd usually eat, but that's fine. All I wanted was enough to support growing new plants.
I dug them up, being careful to leave their plants alive. Then I cut them up in to small pieces with one eye each, and re-seeded in to new dirt. If they keep growing this well, I'll be able to last a good long time here.
After all that physical labor, I deserved a break. I rifled through Johanssen’s computer today, and found an endless supply of digital books. Looks like she’s a big fan of Agatha Christie. Beatles, Christie… I guess Johanssen’s an anglophile or something.
I remember liking Hercule Poirot TV specials back when I was a kid. I’ll start with The Mysterious Affair at Styles. Looks like that’s the first one.