The Martian, Page 24

  I let it run for an hour, and the Hab started to get cold. The RTG's heat can't keep up with the total loss from the Hab's impressive surface area. Not a problem. I've already established it's plenty to keep the rover warm.

  I reattached the return air line to the regulator and things got back to normal.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 381

  I've been thinking about laws on Mars.

  Yeah, I know, it's a stupid thing to think about, but I have a lot of free time.

  There's an international treaty saying no country can lay claim to anything that's not on Earth. And by another treaty, if you're not in any country's territory, maritime law applies.

  So Mars is “international waters.”

  NASA is an American non-military organization, and it owns the Hab. So while I'm in the Hab, American law applies. As soon as I step outside, I'm in international waters. Then when I get in the Rover, I'm back to American law.

  Here's the cool part: I will eventually go to Schiaparelli crater and commandeer the Ares 4 lander. Nobody explicitly gave me permission to do this, and they can't until I'm aboard Ares 4 and operating the comm system. After I board Ares 4, before talking to NASA, I will take control of a craft in international waters without permission.

  That makes me a pirate!

  A Space Pirate!

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 383

  You may be wondering what I do with my free time. I spent a lot of it sitting around on my lazy ass watching TV. But so do you, so don't judge.

  Also, I plan my trip.

  Pathfinder was a cake run. Flat, level ground all the way. The only problem was navigating. But the trip to Schiaparelli will mean going over massive elevation changes.

  I have a rough satellite map of the whole planet. It doesn't have much detail, but I'm lucky to have it at all. NASA didn't expect me to wander 3200km from the Hab.

  Acidalia Planitia (Where I am) has a relatively low elevation. So does Schiaparelli. But between them it goes up and down by 10km. There's going to be a lot of dangerous driving.

  Things will be smooth while I'm in Acidalia, but that's only the first 650km. After that comes the crater-riddled terrain of Arabia Terra.

  I do have one thing going for me. And I swear it's a gift form God. For some geological reason, there's a valley called Mawrth Vallis that's perfectly placed.

  Millions of years ago it was a river. Now its valley that juts in to the brutal terrain of Arabia almost directly toward Sciaparelli. It's much gentler terrain than the rest of Arabia Terra, and the far end looks like a smooth ascent out of the valley.

  Between Acidalia and Mawrth Vallis I'll get 1350km of relatively easy terrain.

  The other 1850km... well that won't be so nice. Especially when I have to descend in to Schiaparelli itself. Ugh.

  Anyway. Mawrth Vallis. Awesome.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 385

  The worst part of the Pathfinder trip was being trapped in the rover. I had to live in a cramped environment that was full of junk and reeked of body odor. Same as my college days.

  Rim shot!

  Seriously though, it sucked. It was 22 sols of abject misery.

  I plan to leave for Schiaparelli 100 sols before my rescue (or death), and I swear to fucking God I'll rip my own face off if I have to live in the rover for that long.

  I need a place to stay where I can stand up and take a few steps without hitting things. And no, being outside in a goddamn EVA suit doesn't count. I need personal space, not 50kg of clothing.

  So today, I started making a tent. Somewhere I can relax while the batteries recharge; somewhere I can lay comfortably while sleeping.

  I recently sacrificed one of my two pop tents to be the trailer balloon. The other is in perfect shape. Even better, it has an attachment for the rover's airlock. Before I made it a potato farm, its original purpose was a lifeboat for the rover.

  I could attach the pop tent to either vehicle's airlock. I'm going with the rover instead of the trailer. The rover has the computer and controls. If I need to know status of anything (like life support or how well the battery is charging) I'll need access. This way, I'll be able to walk right in. No EVA.

  Also, while traveling, I'll keep it folded up in the rover. In an emergency, I can get to it fast.

  The pop tent is the basis of my “bedroom,” but not the whole thing. It's not very big; not much more space than the rover. But it has the airlock attachment so it's a great place to start. My plan is to double the floor area and double the height. That'll give me a nice big space to relax in.

  Hab canvas is flexible. When you fill it with pressure, it wants to become a sphere. That's not a useful shape. So the Hab and the pop-tents have special flooring material. It unfolds as a bunch of little segments that won't open beyond 180 degrees so it remains flat.

  The pop tent base is a hexagon. I have another base left over from what is now the trailer balloon. So when it's done, my bedroom will be two adjacent hexes with walls around them and a crude ceiling.

  It's gonna take a lot of glue to make this happen.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 387

  The pop tent is 1.2m tall. It's not made for comfort. It's made for astronauts to cower in while their crewmates rescue them. I want 2 meters. I want to be able to stand! I don't think that's too much to ask.

  On paper, it's not hard to do. I just need to cut canvas pieces to the right shapes, seal them together, then seal them to the existing canvas and flooring.

  But that's a lot of canvas. I started this mission with 6 square meters and I've used most of that up. Mostly on sealing the breach from when the Hab blew up.

  Goddamn Airlock 1.

  Anyway, my bedroom will take 30 square meters of the stuff. Way the hell more than I have left. Fortunately, I have an alternate supply of Hab canvas: The Hab.

  Problem is (follow me closely here, the science is pretty complicated) if I cut a hole in the Hab, the air won't stay inside anymore.

  I'll have to depressurize the Hab, cut chunks out, and put it back together (smaller). I spent today figuring out the exact sizes and shapes of canvas I'll need. I needed to not fuck this up, so I triple-checked everything. I even made a model out of paper.

  The Hab is a dome. If I take canvas from near the floor, I can pull the remaining canvas down and re-seal it. The Hab will become a lopsided dome, but that shouldn't matter. As long as it holds pressure. I only need it to last another 62 sols.

  I drew the shapes on the wall with a Sharpie. Then I spent a long time re-measuring them and making sure, over and over, that they were right.

  That was all I did today. Might not seem like much, but the math and design work took all day. Now it's time for dinner.

  I've been eating potatoes for weeks. Theoretically, with my 3/4 ration plan, I should still be eating food packs. But 3/4 ration is hard to maintain, so now I'm eating potatoes.

  I have enough to last till launch, so I won't starve. But I'm pretty damn sick of potatoes. Also, they have a lot of fiber, so... let's just say it's good I'm the only guy on this planet.

  I saved 5 meal packs for special occasions. I wrote their names on each one. I get to eat “Departure” the day I leave for Schiaparelli. I'll eat “Half-way” when I reach the 1600km mark, and “Arrival” when I get there.

  The fourth one is “Survived Something That Should Have Killed Me” because some fucking thing will happen, I just know it. I don't know what it'll be, but it'll happen. The rover will break down or I'll come down with Fatal Hemorrhoids or I'll run in to hostile Martians or some shit. When I do (if I live) I get to eat that meal pack.

  The fifth one is reserved for the day I launch. It's labeled “Last Meal.”

  Maybe that's not such a good name.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 388

  I started the day with a potato. I washed it down with some Martian Coffee. That's my name for “hot water with a caffeine pill dissolved in it.” I ran out of real coffee months ago.

  My first order of business was a careful inventory o
f the Hab. I needed to root out anything that would have a problem with losing atmospheric pressure. Of course, everything in the Hab had a crash course in depressurization a few months back. But this time would be controlled and I might as well do it right.

  The main thing is the water. I lost 300L to sublimation when the Hab blew up. This time, that won't happen. I drained the Water Reclaimer and sealed all the tanks.

  The rest was just collecting knickknacks and dumping them in Airlock 3. Anything I could think of that doesn't do well in a near-vacuum. The three remaining laptops, all the pens, the vitamin bottles (probably not necessary but I'm not taking chances), medical supplies, etc.

  Then I did a controlled shutdown of the Hab. The critical components are designed to survive a vacuum. Hab depress is one of the many scenarios NASA accounted for. One system at a time, I cleanly shut them all down, ending with the main computer itself.

  I suited up and depressurized the Hab. Last time, the canvas collapsed and made a mess of everything. That's not supposed to happen. The dome of the Hab is mostly supported by air pressure, but there are flexible reenforcing poles across the inside to hold the canvas up. It's how the Hab was assembled in the first place.

  I watched as the canvas gently settled on to the poles. To confirm the depress, I opened both doors of Airlock 2. I left Airlock 3 alone. It maintained pressure for its cargo of random crap.

  Then I cut shit up!

  I'm not a materials engineer; my design for the bedroom isn't elegant. It's just a 2m perimeter and a ceiling. No, it won't have right angles and corners (pressure vessels don't like those). It'll balloon out to a more round shape.

  Anyway, it means I only needed to cut two big-ass strips of canvas. One for the walls and one for the ceiling.

  After mangling the Hab, I pulled the remaining canvas down to the flooring and re-sealed it. Ever set up a camping tent? From the inside? While wearing a suit of armor? It was a pain in the ass.

  I repressurized to 1/20th of an atmosphere to see if it could hold pressure.

  Ha ha ha! Of course it couldn't! Leaks galore. Time to find them.

  On Earth, tiny particles get attached to water or wear down to nothing. On Mars, they just hang around. The top layer of sand is like talcum powder. I went outside with a bag and scraped along the surface. I got some normal sand, but plenty of powder too.

  I had the Hab maintain the 1/20th atmosphere, backfilling as air leaked out. Then I “puffed” the bag to get the smallest particles to float around. They were quickly drawn to where the leaks were. As I found each leak, I spot-sealed it with resin.

  It took hours, but I finally got a good seal. I'll tell ya, the Hab looks pretty “ghetto” now. One whole side of it is lower than the rest. I'll have to hunch down when I'm over there.

  I pressurized to a full atmosphere and waited an hour. No leaks.

  It's been a long, physically taxing day. I'm totally exhausted but I can't sleep. Every sound scares the shit out of me. Is that the Hab popping? No? Ok... What was that!? Oh, nothing? Ok...

  It's a terrible thing to have my life depend on my half-assed handiwork.

  Time to get a sleeping pill from the medical supplies.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 389

  What the fuck is in those sleeping pills!? It's the middle of the day.

  After two cups of Martian Coffee, I woke up a little. I won't be taking another one of those pills. It's not like I have to go to work in the morning.

  Anyway, as you can tell from how not dead I am, the Hab stayed sealed overnight. The seal is solid. Ugly as hell, but solid.

  Today's task was the bedroom.

  Assembling the bedroom was way easier than re-sealing the Hab. Because this time, I didn't have to wear an EVA suit. I made the whole thing inside the Hab. Why not? It's just canvas. I can roll it up and take it out an airlock when I'm done.

  First, I did some surgery on the remaining pop tent. I needed to keep the rover-airlock connector and surrounding canvas. The rest of the canvas had to go. Why hack off most of the canvas only to replace it with more canvas? Seams.

  NASA is good at making things. I am not. The dangerous part of this structure won't be the canvas. It'll be the seams. And I get less total seam length by not trying to use the existing pop-tent canvas.

  After hacking away most of the remaining tent, I seal-stripped the two pop-tent floors together. Then I sealed the new canvas pieces in to place.

  It was so much easier without the EVA suit on. So much easier!

  Then I had to test it. Again, I did it in the Hab. I brought an EVA suit in to the tent with me and closed the mini-airlock door. Then I fired up the EVA suit, leaving the helmet off. I told it to bump the pressure up to 1.2 atm.

  It took a little while to bring it up to par, and I had to disable some alarms on the suit. (“Hey, I'm pretty sure the helmet's not on!”). It depleted most of the N2 tank, but was finally able to bring the pressure up.

  Then I sat around and waited. I breathed, the suit regulated the air. All was well. I watched the suit readouts carefully to see if it had to replace any “lost” air. After an hour with no noticeable change, I declared the first test a success.

  I rolled up the whole thing (wadded up, really) and took it out to the rover.

  You know, I suit up a lot these days. I bet that's another record I hold. A typical Martian astronaut does, what, 40 EVAs? I've done several hundred.

  Once I brought the bedroom to the rover, I attached it to the airlock from the inside. Then I pulled the release to let it loose. I was still wearing my EVA suit, cause I'm not an idiot.

  It fired out and filled in three seconds. The open airlock hatchway led directly to the bedroom, and it appeared to be holding pressure.

  Just like before, I let it sit for an hour. And just like before, it worked great. Unlike the Hab canvas resealing, I got this one right on the first try. Mostly because I didn't have to do it with a damn EVA suit on.

  Originally I planned to let it sit overnight and check in the morning. But I ran in to a problem: I can't get out if I do that. The rover only has one airlock, and the bedroom was attached to it. There was no way for me to get out without detaching the bedroom, and no way to attach and pressurize the bedroom without being inside the rover.

  It's a little scary. The first time I test the thing overnight will be with me in it. But that'll be later. I've done enough today.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 390

  I have to face facts. I'm done with the rover. I don't “feel” like I'm done. But it's ready to go:

  Food: 1,692 potatoes. Vitamin pills.

  Water: 620L.

  Shelter: Rover, trailer, bedroom.

  Air: Rover and trailer combined storage: 14L liquid O2, 14L liquid N2.

  Life Support: Oxygenator and Atmospheric Regulator. 418 hours of use-and-discard CO2 filters for emergencies.

  Power: 36kwh of storage. Carrying capacity for 29 solar cells.

  Heat: 1400W RTG. Homemade reservoir to heat regulator's return air. Electric heater in rover as a backup.

  Disco: Lifetime supply.

  I'm leaving here on Sol 449. That gives me 59 sols to test everything and fix whatever isn't working right. And decide what's coming with me and what's staying behind. And plot a route to Schiaparelli using a grainy satellite map. And rack my brains trying to think of anything important I forgot.

  Since Sol 6 all I've wanted to do was get the hell out of here. Now the prospect of leaving the Hab behind scares the shit out of me. I need some encouragement. I need to ask myself: “What would an Apollo astronaut do?”

  He'd drink 3 whiskey sours, bang his mistress, then fly to the moon. And if he ever met a botanist like me he'd dispense a wedgie on principle.

  To hell with those guys. I'm a Space Pirate!

  Chapter 21

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 431

  I'm working out how to pack. It's harder than it sounds.

  I have two pressure vessels: The rover and the trailer. They're connected by hoses
, but they're also not stupid. If one loses pressure, the other will instantly seal off the shared lines.

  There's a grim logic to this: If the rover breaches I'm dead. No point in planning around that. But if the trailer breaches, I'll be fine. That means I should put everything important in the rover. If I'm going to die, I may as well take all the delicate stuff with me.

  Everything that goes in the trailer has to be comfortable in near-vacuum and freezing temperatures. Not that I anticipate that, but you know. Plan for the worst.

  There isn't much room to spare. It'll have two bulky Hab batteries, the Atmospheric Regulator, the Oxygenator and my home-made heat reservoir. It would be more convenient to have the reservoir in the rover, but it has to be near the Regulator's return air feed.

  It'll be cramped, but there will be some empty spaces. And I know just how to fill them: Taters!

  Nothing “bad” can happen to the potatoes. They're already dead. I've been storing them outside for months anyway. Also, they're small and not delicate. They probably won't all fit, so some will have to ride with me.

  The rover will be pretty packed, too. When I'm driving, I'll keep the bedroom folded up near the airlock, ready for emergency egress. Also, I'll have the two functional EVA suits in there with me and anything that might be needed for emergency repairs: Tool kits, spare parts, my nearly depleted supply of sealant, the other rover's main computer (just in case!) and all 620 glorious liters of