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The Martian, Page 8

Andy Weir


  “She noticed he was alive in the first place.”

  “She gets a promotion cause she was in the hot seat when the imagery came through?”

  “No,” Venkat frowned, “She gets a promotion cause she figured out he was alive. Stop being a dick, Mitch. You’re making her feel bad.”

  Mitch looked over to Mindy. “Sorry.”

  Mindy looked at the table and managed to say “’k.”

  Teddy entered the room. “Sorry I’m late. Let’s get started,” He took his seat. “Venkat, what’s Watney’s status?”

  “Alive and well,” Venkat said. “No change from my email earlier today.”

  “What about the RTG. Does the public know about that yet?” Teddy asked.

  Annie leaned forward. “So far, so good,” she said. “The images are public, but we have no obligation to tell them our analysis. Nobody has figured it out yet.”

  “Why did he dig it up?”

  “Heat, I think,” Venkat said. “He wants to make the rover do long trips. It uses a lot of energy keeping warm. The RTG can heat up the interior without soaking battery power. It’s a good idea, really.”

  “How dangerous is it?” Teddy asked.

  “As long as the container’s intact, no danger at all. Even if it cracks open he'll be ok if the pellets inside don't break. But if the pellets break too, he’s a dead man.”

  “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Teddy said. “JPL, how are the MDV plans coming along?”

  “We came up with a plan a long time ago,” Bruce said. “You rejected it.”

  “Bruce,” Teddy cautioned.

  Bruce sighed. “The MDV wasn’t made for liftoff and lateral flight. Packing more fuel in doesn’t help. We’d need a bigger engine and don’t have time to invent one. So we need to lighten the MDV.

  “We have an idea. The MDV can be its normal weight on primary descent. If we made the heat shield and outer hull detachable, they could ditch a lot of weight after landing at Ares 3, and have a lighter ship for the traverse to Ares 4. We’re running the numbers now.”

  “Keep me posted,” Teddy said. He turned to Mindy. “Miss Park. Welcome to the big leagues.”

  “Sir,” Mindy said.

  “What’s the biggest gap in coverage we have on Watney right now?”

  “Um,” Mindy said. “Once every 41 hours, we’ll have a 17 minute gap. The orbits work out that way.”

  “You had an immediate answer,” Teddy said. “Good.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I want that gap down to four minutes,” Teddy said. “I’m giving you total authority over satellite trajectories and orbital adjustments. Make it happen.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mindy said, with no idea how to do it.

  Teddy looked to Mitch. “Mitch, your email said you had something urgent?”

  “Yeah,” Mitch said. “How long are we gonna’ keep this from the Ares 3 crew? They all think Watney’s dead. It’s a huge drain on morale.”

  Teddy looked to Venkat.

  “Mitch,” Venkat said. “We discussed this-“

  “No, you discussed it,” Mitch interrupted. “They think they lost a crewmate. They’re devastated.”

  “And when they find out they abandoned a crewmate?” Venkat asked, “Will they feel better then?”

  Mitch poked the table with his finger “They deserve to know. You don’t think Commander Lewis can’t handle the truth?”

  “It’s a matter of morale,” Venkat said. “They can concentrate on getting home-“

  “I make that call,” Mitch said. “I’m the one who decides what’s best for the crew. And I say we bring them up to speed.”

  After a few moments of silence, all eyes turned to Teddy.

  He thought for a moment. “Sorry, Mitch, I’m with Venkat on this one,” he said. “But as soon as we come up with a plan for rescue, we can tell Hermes. There needs to be some hope or there’s no point in telling them.”

  “Bullshit,” Mitch grumbled, crossing his arms. “Total bullshit,”

  “I know you’re upset,” Teddy said calmly, “We’ll make it right. Just as soon as we have some idea how to save Watney.”

  Teddy let a few seconds of calm pass before moving on.

  “Ok, JPL’s on the rescue option,” he said with a nod toward Bruce. “But it would be part of Ares 4. How does he stay alive till then? Venkat?”

  Venkat opened a folder and glanced at the paperwork inside. “I had every team check and double-check the longevity of their systems. We’re pretty sure the Hab can keep working for 4 years. Especially with a human occupant fixing problems as they arise. But there’s no way around the food issue. He’ll start starving in a year. We have to send him supplies. Simple as that.”

  “What about an Ares 4 presupply?” Said Teddy. “Land it at Ares 3 instead.”

  “That’s what we’re thinking, yeah,” Venkat confirmed. “Problem is, the original plan was to launch presupplies a year from now. They’re not ready yet.

  “It takes 8 months to get a probe to Mars in the best of times. The positions of Earth and Mars right now… it’s not the best of times. We figure we can get there in 9 months. Presuming he’s rationing his food, he’s got enough to last 350 more days. That means we need to build a presupply in three months. JPL hasn’t even started yet.”

  “That’ll be tight,” Bruce said. “Making a presupply is a 6 month process. We’re set up to pipeline a bunch of them at once, not to make one in a hurry.”

  “Sorry, Bruce,” Teddy said. “I know we’re asking a lot, but you have to find a way.”

  “We’ll find a way,” Bruce said. “But the OT alone will be a nightmare.”

  “Get started. I’ll find you the money.”

  “There’s also the booster,” Venkat said. “The only way to get a probe to Mars with the planets in their current positions is to spend a butt-load of fuel. We only have one booster capable of doing that. The Delta IX that’s on the pad right now for the EagleEye 3 Saturn probe. We’ll have to steal that. I talked to ULA, and they just can’t make another booster in time.”

  “The EagleEye 3 team will be pissed, but ok,” said Teddy. “We can delay their mission if JPL gets the payload done in time.”

  Bruce rubbed his eyes. “We’ll do our best.”

  “He’ll starve to death if you don’t,” Teddy said.

  Venkat sipped his coffee and frowned at his computer. A month ago it would have been unthinkable to drink coffee at 9pm. Now it was necessary fuel. Shift schedules, fund allocations, project juggling, out and out looting of other projects… he’d never pulled so many stunts in his life.

  “NASA’s a large organization,” he typed. “It doesn’t deal with sudden change well. The only reason we’re getting away with it is the desperate circumstances. Everyone’s pulling together to save Mark Watney, with no interdepartmental squabbling. I can’t tell you how rare that is. Even then, this is going to cost tens of millions, maybe hundreds of millions of dollars. The MDV modifications alone are an entire project that’s being staffed up. Hopefully, the public interest will make your job easier. We appreciate your continued support, Congressman, and hope you can sway the Committee toward granting us the emergency funding we need.”

  He was interrupted by a knock at his door. Looking up, he saw Mindy.

  “Sorry to bother you,” Mindy said.

  “No bother,” Venkat said. “I could use a break. What’s up?”

  “He’s on the move,” she said.

  Venkat slouched in his chair. “Any chance it’s a test drive?”

  She shook her head. “He drove straight away from the Hab for almost two hours, did a short EVA, then drove for another two. We think the EVA was to change batteries.”

  Venkat sighed heavily. “Maybe it’s just a longer test? An overnight trip, kind of thing?”

  “He’s 76km from the Hab,” Mindy said. “For an overnight test, wouldn’t he stay within walking distance?”

  “Yes he would,” V
enkat said. “Damn it. We’ve had teams run every conceivable scenario. There’s just no way he can make it to Ares 4 with that set-up. We never saw him load up the Oxygenator or Water Reclaimer. He can’t possibly have enough basics to live long enough.”

  “I don’t think he’s going to Ares 4,” Mindy said. “If he is, he’s taking a weird path.”

  “Oh?” said Venkat.

  “He went south-southwest. Schiaparelli Crater is southeast.”

  “Ok, maybe there’s hope,” Venkat said. “What’s he doing right now?”

  “Recharging. He’s got all the solar cells set up,” Mindy said. “Last time he did that, it took 12 hours. I was going to sneak home for some sleep if that’s ok.”

  “Sure, sounds good. We’ll see what he does tomorrow. Maybe he’ll go back to the Hab.”

  “Maybe,” Mindy said, unconvinced.

  “Welcome back,” Cathy said to the camera. “We’re chatting with Marcus Washington, from the US Postal Service. So, Mr. Washington, I understand the Ares 3 mission caused a Postal Service first. Can you explain to our viewers?”

  “Uh yeah,” said Marcus. “Everyone thought he was dead for over two months. In that time, the Postal Service issued a run of commemorative stamps honoring his memory. 20,000 were printed, and sent to post offices around the country.”

  “And then it turned out he was alive,” Cathy said.

  “Yeah,” said Marcus. “We stopped the run immediately and recalled the stamps, but thousands were already sold. The thing is, we don’t print stamps of living people.”

  “Has this ever happened before?” Cathy asked.

  “No. Not once in the history of the Postal Service.”

  “I bet they’re worth a pretty penny now.”

  Marcus chuckled. “Maybe. But not too much. Like I said, thousands were sold. They’ll be rare, but not super rare.”

  Cathy chuckled then addressed the camera. “We’ve been speaking with Marcus Washington of the United States Postal Service. If you’ve got a Mark Watney commemorative stamp, you might want to hold on to it. Thanks for dropping by, Mr. Washington.”

  “Thanks for having me,” Marcus said.

  “Our next guest is Dr. Irene Shields, Flight Psychologist for the Ares missions. Dr. Shields, welcome to the program.”

  “Thank you,” Irene said, adjusting her microphone clip.

  “Do you know Mark Watney personally?”

  “Of course,” Irene said. “I did monthly psych evaluations on each member of the crew.”

  “What can you tell us about him? His personality, his mindset?”

  “Well,” Irene said, “He’s very intelligent. All of them are, of course. But he’s particularly resourceful and a good problem-solver.”

  “That may save his life,” Cathy interjected.

  “It may indeed,” Irene agreed. “Also, he’s a good-natured man. Usually cheerful, with a great sense of humor. He’s quick with a joke. In the months leading up to launch, the crew was put through a grueling training schedule. They all showed signs of stress and moodiness. Mark was no exception, but the way he showed it was to crack more jokes and get everyone laughing.”

  “He sounds like a great guy,” Cathy said.

  “He really is,” Irene said. “He was chosen for the mission in part because of his personality. An Ares crew has to spend 13 months together. Social compatibility is key. Mark not only fits well in any social group, he’s a catalyst to make the group work better. It was a terrible blow to the crew when he ‘died.’”

  “And they still think he’s dead, right? The Ares 3 crew?”

  “Yes they do, unfortunately,” Irene confirmed. “The higher-ups decided to keep it from them, at least for now. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision.”

  Cathy paused for a moment, then said. “All right. You know I have to ask: What’s going through his head right now? How does a man like Mark Watney respond to a situation like this? Stranded, alone, no idea we’re trying to help?”

  “There’s no way to be sure,” Irene said. “The biggest threat is giving up hope. If he decides there’s no chance to survive, he’ll stop trying.”

  “Then we’re ok for now, right?” Cathy said. “He seems to be working hard. He’s prepping the rover for a long trip and testing it. He plans to be there when Ares 4 lands.”

  “That’s one interpretation, yes,” Irene said.

  “Is there another?”

  Irene carefully formed her answer before speaking. “When facing death, people want to be heard. They don’t want to die alone. He might just want the MAV radio so he can talk to another soul before he dies.

  “If he’s lost hope, he won’t care about survival. His only concern will be making it to the radio. After that, he’ll probably take an easier way out than starvation. The medical supplies of an Ares mission have enough morphine to be lethal.”

  After several seconds of complete silence in the studio, Cathy turned to the camera. “We’ll be right back.”

  “Heya, Venk,” came Bruce’s voice from the speakerphone.

  “Bruce, Hi,” said Venkat. “Thanks for clearing up some time. I wanted to talk about the presupply.”

  “Sure thing. What’s on your mind?”

  “Let’s say we soft-land it perfectly. How will Mark know it happened? And how will he know where to look?”

  “We’ve been thinking about that,” said Bruce. “We’ve got some ideas.”

  “I’m all ears,” Venkat said.

  “We’ll be sending him a comm system anyway, right? We could have it turn on after lading. It’ll broadcast on the rover and EVA suit frequencies. It’ll have to be a strong signal, too.

  “The rovers were only designed to communicate with the Hab and each other; the signal origin was presumed to be within 20km. The receivers just aren’t very sensitive. The EVA suits are even worse. But as long as we have a strong signal we should be good.

  “Once we land the presupply, we’ll get its exact location from satellites, then broadcast that to Mark so he can go get it.”

  “But he’s probably not listening,” said Venkat. “Why would he be?”

  “We have a plan for that. We’re going to make a bunch of bright green ribbons. Light enough to flutter around when dropped, even in Mars’s atmosphere. Each ribbon will have ‘MARK: TURN ON YOUR COMM’ printed on it. We’re working on a release mechanism now. During the landing sequence, of course. Ideally, about 1000 meters above the surface.”

  “I like it,” Venkat said. “All he needs to do is notice one. And he’s sure to check out a bright green ribbon if he sees one outside.”

  “That’s what we’re thinking,” said Bruce.

  “All right, good work. Keep me posted,” Venkat said.

  “Venk,” said Bruce. “If he takes the ‘Watneymobile’ to Ares 4, this’ll all be for nothing. I mean, we can land it at Ares 4 if that happens, but…”

  “But he’ll be without a Hab. Yeah,” Venkat said. “One thing at a time. Let me know when you come up with a release mechanism for those ribbons.”

  “Will do.”

  After terminating the call, he saw an email from Mindy Park arrive. “Watney’s on the move again.”

  “Still going in a straight line,” Mindy said, pointing to her monitor.

  “I see,” Venkat said. “He’s sure as hell not going to Ares 4. Unless he’s going around some natural obstacle.”

  “There’s nothing for him to go around,” Mindy said. “It’s Acidalia Planitia.”

  “Are those the solar cells?” Venkat asked, pointing to the screen.

  “Yeah,” Mindy said. “He did the usual 2 hour drive, EVA, 2 hour drive. He’s 156km from the Hab now.”

  They both peered at the screen.

  “Wait…” Venkat said. “Wait, no way…”

  “What?” Mindy asked.

  Venkat grabbed a pad of Post-Its and a pen. “Give me his location, and the location of the Hab.”

  Mindy checked her screen. “H
e’s currently at… 28.9°N, 29.6°W.” With a few keystrokes, she brought up another file. “The Hab’s at 31.2°N, 28.5°W. What do you see?”

  Venkat finished taking down the numbers. “Come with me,” he said, quickly walking out.

  “Um,” Mindy stammered, following after. “Where are we going?” She asked when she caught up.

  “SatCon break room,” Venkat said. “You guys still have that map of Mars on the wall?”

  “Sure,” Mindy said. “But it’s just a poster from the gift shop. I’ve got high quality digital maps on my computer-“

  “Nope. I can’t draw on those,” he said. Then, rounding the corner to the break room, he pointed to the Mars map on the wall. “I can draw on that.”

  The break room was empty save a computer technician sipping a cup of coffee. The urgency of Venkat and Mindy’s entrance caught his attention.

  “Good, it has latitude and longitude lines,” Venkat said. Looking at his Post-It, then sliding his finger along the map, he drew an X. “That’s the Hab,” he said.

  “Hey,” the technician said. “Are you drawing on our poster?”

  “I’ll buy you a new one,” Venkat said without looking back. Then, he drew another X. “That’s his current location. Get me a ruler.”

  Mindy looked left and right. Seeing no ruler, she grabbed the technicians notebook.

  “Hey!” The technician protested.

  Using the notebook as a straight-edge, Venkat drew a line from the Hab to Mark’s location and beyond. Then took a step back.

  “Yup! That’s where he’s going!” Venkat said excitedly.

  “Oh!” Mindy said.

  The line passed through the exact center of a bright yellow dot printed on the map.

  “Pathfinder!” Mindy said. “He’s going to Pathfinder!”

  “Yup!” Venkat said. “Now we’re getting somewhere. It’s like 800km from him. He can get there and back with supplies on-hand.”

  “And bring Pathfinder and Sojourner Rover back with him,” Mindy added.

  Venkat quickly pulled out his cell phone. “We lost contact with it in 1997. If he can get it online again, we can communicate. It might just need the solar cells cleaned. Even if it’s got a bigger problem, he’s an engineer!” Dialing, he added “Fixing shit is his job!”

  Smiling for the first time in weeks, he held the phone to his ear and awaited a response. “Bruce? It’s Venkat. Everything just changed. Watney’s headed for Pathfinder. Yeah! I know, right!? Dig up everyone who was on that project and get them to JPL now. I’ll catch the next flight.”

  Hanging up, he grinned at the map. “Mark, you sneaky, clever, son of a bitch!”

  Chapter 9