The Martian, Page 22

  First, I put the Hab on low power mode: No internal lights, all nonessential systems offline, all internal heating suspended. I'd be outside most of the day anyway.

  I detached 28 panels from the solar farm and dragged them to the rover. I spent four hours stacking them this way and that. The poor rover looked like the Beverly Hillbillies truck. Nothing I did worked.

  The only way to get all 28 on the roof was to make stacks so high they'd fall off the first time I turned. If I lashed them together, they'd fall off as a unit. If I found a way to attach them perfectly to the rover, the rover would tip. I didn't even bother to test. It was obvious by looking and I didn't want to break shit.

  I haven't removed the chunk of hull from the trailer yet. Half the holes are drilled, but I'm not committed to anything. If I left it in place, I could have four stacks of seven cells. That would work fine; it's just two rovers worth of what I did for the trip to Pathfinder.

  Problem is, I need that opening. The regulator has to be in the pressurized area and it's too big to fit in the rover. Plus which, the Oxygenator needs to be in a pressurized area while operating. I'll only need it every 5 sols, but what would I do on that sol? No, the hole has to be there.

  As it is, I'll be able to stow 21 panels. I need homes for the other seven. There's only one place they can go: The sides of the rover and trailer.

  One of my earlier modifications was “saddlebags” draped over the rover. One side held the extra battery (stolen from what is now the trailer) while the other side was full of rocks as counterweight.

  I won't need them this time around. I can return the second battery to the trailer whence it came. In fact, it'll save me the hassle of the mid-drive EVA I had to do every day to swap cables. When the rovers are linked up, they share resources including electricity.

  I went ahead and reinstalled the trailer's battery. It took me two hours but it's out of the way now. I removed the saddlebags and set them aside. They may be handy down the line. If I've learned one thing from my stay at Club Mars, it's that everything can be useful.

  I had liberated the sides of the rover and trailer. After staring at them for a while, I had my solution.

  I'll make L-brackets that stick out from the undercarriages, with the hooks facing up. Two brackets per side to make a shelf. I could set panels on the shelves and lean them against the rover. Then I'd lash them to the hull with homemade rope.

  There'll be four “shelves” total; two on the rover and two on the trailer. If the brackets stick out far enough to accommodate two panels, I could store 8 additional panels that way. That would give me one more panel than I'd even planned for.

  I'll make those brackets and install them tomorrow. I would have done it today, but it got dark and I got lazy.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 209

  Cold night last night. The solar cells were still detached from the farm, so I had to leave the Hab in low-power mode. I did turn the heat back on (I'm not insane), but I set the internal temperature to 1C to conserve power. Waking up to frigid weather was surprisingly nostalgic. I grew up in Chicago, after all.

  But nostalgia only lasts so long. I vowed to complete the brackets today, so I can return the panels to the farm. Then I can turn the damn heat back on.

  I headed out to the MAV's landing strut array. Most of the MAV was made from composite, but the struts had to absorb the shock of landing. Metal was the way to go.

  Each strut is 2 meters long, and held together by bolts. I brought them in to the Hab to save myself the hassle of working in an EVA suit. I took each strut apart, yielding a bunch of metal strips.

  Shaping the brackets involved a hammer and... well that's it, actually. Making an “L” doesn't take a lot of precision.

  I needed holes where the bolts would pass through. Fortunately, my Pathfinder-murdering drill made short work of that task.

  Attaching the brackets to the undercarriages of the rover and trailer was easy. The undercarriages come right off. I bolted the brackets in place and returned the undercarriages where they belonged. Important note – an undercarriage is not part of the pressure vessel. The holes I drilled won't let my air out.

  I tested the brackets by hitting them with rocks. This kind of sophistication is what we interplanetary scientists are known for.

  After convincing myself the brackets wouldn't break at the first sign of use, I tested the new arrangement. Two stacks of seven solar cells on the rover; another seven on the trailer, then two per shelf. They all fit.

  After lashing the cells in place, I took a little drive. I did some basic acceleration and deceleration, turned in increasingly tight circles, and even did a power-stop. The cells didn't budge.

  28 solar cells, baby! And room for one extra!

  After some well-earned fist-pumping, I unloaded the cells and dragged them back to the farm. No Chicago morning for me tomorrow.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 211

  I am smiling a great smile. The smile of a man who fucked with his car and didn't break it. This is considerably more rare than you might think.

  I spent today removing unnecessary crap from the rover and trailer. I was pretty damn aggressive about it, too. Space inside the pressure vessels is premium. The more crap I clear out of the rover, the more space there is for me. The more crap I clear out of the trailer, the more supplies I can store in it, and the less I have to store in the rover.

  First off: Each vehicle had a bench for passengers. Bye!

  Next: there's no reason for the trailer to have life support. The oxygen tanks, nitrogen tanks, CO2 filter assembly... all unnecessary. It'll be sharing air with the rover (which has its own copy of each of those) and it'll be carrying the regulator and Oxygenator. Between the Hab components it'll be carrying and the rover, there'll be two redundant life support systems. That's plenty.

  Then I yanked the driver's seat and control panel out of the trailer. The link-up with the rover is physical. The trailer doesn't do anything but get dragged along and fed air. It doesn't need controls or brains. However, I did salvage its computer. It's small and light, so I'll bring it with me. If something goes wrong with the rover's computer en-route, I'll have a spare.

  The trailer had tons more space now. It was time for experimentation.

  The Hab has twelve 9kwh batteries. They're bulky and awkward. Over two meters tall, a half-meter wide, and 3/4 meter thick. Making them bigger makes them take less mass per kwh of storage. Yeah, it's counter-intuitive. But once NASA figured out they could increase volume to decrease mass they were all over it. Mass is the expensive part about sending shit to Mars.

  I detached two of them. The Hab mostly uses the batteries at night. As long as I return them before the end of the day, things should be fine.

  With both of the trailer's airlock doors open I was able to get the first battery in. After playing real-life Tetris for a while I found a way to get the first battery out of the way enough to let the second battery in. Together, they eat up the whole front half of the trailer. If I hadn't cleared the useless shit out earlier today, I'd never have gotten them both in.

  The trailer's battery is in the undercarriage, but the main power line runs through the pressure vessel. I was able to wire the Hab batteries directly in. (No small feat in the damn EVA suit).

  A system check from the rover showed I had done the wiring correctly.

  This may all seem minor, but it's awesome. It means I can have 29 solar cells and 36kwh of storage. I'll be able to do my 100km per day after all.

  4 days out of 5, anyway.

  According to my calender, the Hermes resupply probe is being launched from China in two days (if there were no delays). If that screws up, the whole crew will be in deep shit. I'm more nervous about that than anything else.

  I've been in mortal danger for months; I'm kind of used to it now. But now I'm nervous again. Dying would suck, but my crewmates dying would be way worse. And I won't find out how the launch went till I get to Schiaparelli.

  Good luck, guys.
<
br />   Chapter 19

  “Hey, Melissa...” said Robert. “Am I getting through? Can you see me?”

  “Loud and clear, babe,” said Commander Lewis. “The video link is solid.”

  “They say I have 5 minutes,” Robert said.

  “Better than nothing,” Lewis said. Floating in her quarters, she gently touched the bulkhead to stop drifting. “It's nice to see you in real-time for a change.”

  “Yeah,” Robert smiled. “I can hardly notice the delay. I gotta say, I wish you were coming home.”

  Lewis sighed, “Me too, babe.”

  “Don't get me wrong,” Robert quickly added, “I understand why you're doing all this. Still, from a selfish point of view, I miss my wife. Hey, are you floating?”

  “Huh?” Lewis said. “Oh, yeah. The ship isn't spinning right now. No centripetal gravity.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we're docking with the Taiyang Shen in a few days. We can't spin while we dock with things.”

  “I see,” said Robert. “So how are things up on the ship? Anyone giving you shit?”

  “No,” Lewis shook her head. “They're a good crew; I'm lucky to have them.”

  “Oh hey!” Robert said. “I found a great addition to our collection!”

  “Oh? What'd you get?”

  “An original production 8-track of Abba's Greatest Hits. Still in the original packaging.”

  Lewis widened her eyes. “Seriously? A 1973 or one of the reprints?”

  “1973 all the way.”

  “Wow! Good find!”

  “I know, right!?”

  With a final shudder, the jetliner came to a stop at the gate.

  “Oh gods,” said Venkat, massaging his neck. “That was the longest flight I've ever been on.”

  “Mm,” said Teddy, rubbing his eyes.

  “At least we don't have to go to Jiuquan till tomorrow,” Venkat moaned. “14½ hours of flying is enough for one day.”

  “Don't get too comfortable,” Teddy said. “We still have to go through customs and we'll probably have to fill out a bunch of forms because we're U.S. Government officials... it's gonna be hours before we sleep.”

  “Craaaap.”

  Gathering their carry-on luggage, they trudged off the plane with the rest of the weary travellers.

  Beijing Capital International Airport's Terminal 3 echoed with the cacophony common to huge air terminals. Venkat and Teddy continued forward as the Chinese citizens from their flight split off to go to a simpler point-of-entry process.

  As Venkat took his place in line, Teddy filed in behind him and scanned the terminal for a convenience store. Any form of caffeine would be welcome.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” came a voice from beside them.

  They turned to see a young Chinese man wearing casual attire. “My name is Su Bin Bao,” he said in perfect English. “I am an employee of the China National Space Administration. I will be your guide and translator during your stay in the People's Republic of China.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Su,” Teddy said. “I'm Teddy Sanders, and this is Dr. Venkat Kapoor.”

  “We need sleep,” Venkat said immediately. “Just as soon as we get through customs, please take us to a hotel to sleep.”

  “I can do better than that, Dr. Kapoor,” Su smiled. “You are official guests of the People's Republic of China. You have been pre-authorized to bypass customs. I can take you to your hotel immediately.”

  “I love you,” Venkat said.

  “Tell the People's Republic of China we said thanks,” Teddy added.

  “I'll pass that along,” Su Bin smiled.

  “Helena, my love,” Vogel said to his wife. “I trust you are well?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I'm fine. But I do miss you.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Can't be helped,” she shrugged.

  “How are our monkeys?”

  “The children are fine,” she smiled. “Eliza is adjusting to life in junior high, and Victor is goalkeeper for his high school's team.”

  “Excellent!” Vogel said. “I hear you are at Mission Control. Was NASA unable to pipe the signal to Bremen?”

  “They could have,” she said. “But it was easier for them to bring me to Houston. A free vacation to the United States. Who am I to turn that down?”

  “Well played. And how is my mother?”

  “As well as can be expected,” Helena said. “She has her good days and bad days. My last few visits, she didn't recognize me. In a way, it's a blessing. She doesn't have to worry about you like I do.”

  “She hasn't worsened?” He asked.

  “No, she's about the same as when you left. The doctors are sure she'll still be here when you return.”

  “Good,” he said. “I was worried I'd seen her for the last time.”

  “Alex,” Helena said, “Will you be safe?”

  “As safe as we can be,” he said. “The ship is in perfect condition, and after receiving the Taiyang Shen, we will have all the supplies we need for the remainder of the journey.”

  “Be careful,” She said.

  “I will, my love,” Vogel promised.

  “Welcome to Jiuquan,” Guo Ming said. “I hope your flight was smooth?”

  Su Bin translated Guo Ming's words as Teddy took the second-best seat in the observation room.

  “Yes, thank you,” Teddy said. “The hospitality of your people has been wonderful. The private jet you arranged to bring us here was a nice touch.”

  “My people have enjoyed working with your advance team,” Guo Ming said. “The last month has been very interesting. Attaching an American probe to a Chinese booster. I believe this is the first time it's ever been done.”

  “It just goes to show,” Teddy said. “Love of science is universal across all cultures.”

  Guo Ming nodded. “My people have especially commented on the work ethic of your man Mitch Henderson. He is very dedicated.”

  “He's a pain in the ass,” Teddy said.

  Su Bin paused before translating, but pressed on.

  Guo Ming laughed. “You can say that,” he said. “I cannot.”

  “So explain it again,” Beck's sister Amy said. “Why do you have to do an EVA?”

  “I probably don't,” Beck explained. “I just need to be ready to.”

  “Why?”

  “In case the probe can't dock with us. If something goes wrong, it'll be my job to go out and grab it.”

  “Can't you just move Hermes to dock with it?”

  “No way,” Beck said. “Hermes is huge. It's not made for fine maneuvering control.”

  “Why does it have to be you?”

  “Cause I'm the EVA specialist.”

  “But I thought you were the Doctor.”

  “I am,” Beck said. “Everyone has multiple roles. I'm the doctor, the biologist, and the EVA specialist. Commander Lewis is our geologist. Johanssen is the sysop and reactor tech. And so on.”

  “How about that good looking guy... Martinez?” Amy asked. “What does he do?”

  “He pilots the MDV and MAV.” Beck said. “He's also married with a kid, you lecherous homewrecker.”

  “Ah well. How about Watney? What did he do?”

  “He's our botanist and engineer. And don't talk about him in the past tense.”

  “Engineer? Like Scotty?”

  “Kind of,” Beck said. “He fixes stuff.”

  “I bet that's coming in handy now.”

  “Yeah, no shit.”

  “They're a weird bunch, these Chinese nerds,” Mitch said. “But they make a good booster.”

  “Good.” Venkat said. “How's the linkage between the booster and our probe?”

  “It all checks out,” Mitch said. “JPL followed the specs perfectly. It fits like a glove.”

  “Any concerns or reservations?” Venkat asked.

  “Yeah. I'm concerned about what I ate last night. I think it had an eyeball in it.”

  “I'm sure ther
e wasn't an eyeball.”

  “The engineers here made it for me special,” Mitch said.

  “There may have been an eyeball,” Venkat said. “They hate you.”

  “Why?”

  “Cause you're a dick, Mitch,” Venkat said. “A total dick. To everyone.”

  “Fair enough. So long as the probe gets to Hermes, they can burn me in fucking effigy for all I care.”

  “Wave to Daddy!” Marissa said, waving David's hand at the camera. “Wave to Daddy!”

  “He's too young to know what's going on,” Martinez said.

  “Just think of the playground cred he'll have later in life,” she said. “'My dad went to Mars. What's your dad do?'”