The Martian, Page 27

  “Yeah, I saw that,” he said.

  “We need to face the possibility that he won't make it to Schiaparelli,” Lewis said. “If that happens, we need to keep morale up. We still have a long way to go before we get home.”

  “He was dead before,” Martinez said. “It was rough on morale, but we soldiered on. Besides, he won't die.”

  “It's pretty bleak, Rick,” Lewis said. “He's already 50km in to the storm, and he'll go another 90km per sol. He'll get in too deep to recover soon.”

  Martinez shook his head. “He'll pull through, Commander. Have faith.”

  She smiled forlornly. “Rick, you know I'm not religious.”

  “I know,” he said. “I'm not talking about faith in God, I'm talking about faith in Mark Watney. Look at all the shit Mars has thrown at him, and he's still alive. He'll survive this. I don't know how, but he will. He's a clever son-of-a-bitch.”

  Lewis took a bite of her food. “I hope you're right.”

  “Want to bet $100?” Martinez said with a smile.

  “Of course not,” Lewis said.

  “Damn right,” he smiled.

  “I'd never bet on a crewmate dying,” Lewis said. “But that doesn't mean I think he'll-”

  “Blah blah blah,” Martinez interrupted. “Deep down, you think he'll make it.”

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 473

  My fifth Air Day, and things are going well. I should be skimming south of Marth Crater tomorrow. It'll get easier after that.

  I'm in the middle of a bunch of craters that form a triangle. I'm calling it the Watney Triangle because after what I've been through, shit on Mars should be named after me.

  Trouvelot, Becquerel, and Marth form the points of the triangle, with 5 other major craters along the sides. Normally this wouldn't be a problem at all, but with my extremely rough navigation, I could easily end up at the lip of one of them and have to backtrack.

  After Marth, I'll be out of the Watney Triangle (yeah, I'm liking that name more and more). Then I can beeline toward Schiaparelli with impunity. There'll still be plenty of craters in the way, but they're comparatively small and going around them won't cost much time.

  Progress has been great. Arabia Terra is certainly rockier than Acidalia Planitia, but nowhere near as bad as I'd feared. I've been able to drive over most of the rocks, and around the ones that are too big.

  I have 1435km left to go. Ares 4's MAV is in the southwest part of Schiaparelli. The primary goal of Ares 4 is to get a look at the long-term effects of Martian weather on deep layers of strata exposed by the crater.

  At least, that was the original plan. I'll be taking their MAV and Commander Lewis hasn't given Hermes back, so we've ruined everything. They'll probably just send another MAV and wait for the next window.

  I did some research on Schiaparelli and found some good news. The best way in is right in my direct-line path. I won't have to drive the perimeter at all. And the way in is easy to find, even when you suck at navigating. The northwest rim has a smaller crater on it, and that's the landmark I'll be looking for. To the southwest of that little crater is a gentle slope in to Schiaparelli Basin.

  The little crater doesn't have a name. At least, not on the maps I have. So I dub it “Entrance Crater.” Because I can.

  In other news, my equipment is starting to show signs of age. Not surprising, considering it's way the hell past its expiration date. For the past two sols, the batteries have taken longer to recharge. The solar cells just aren't producing as much wattage as before. It's not a big deal, I just need to charge a little longer.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 474

  Well, I fucked it up.

  It was bound to happen eventually. I navigated badly and ended up at the ridge of Marth Crater. With it being 100km wide, I can't see the whole thing, so I don't know where on the circle I am.

  The ridge runs perpendicular to the direction I was going. So I have no clue which way I should go. And I don't want to take the long way around if I can avoid it. Originally I wanted to go around to the south, but north is just as likely to be the best path now that I'm off-course.

  I'll have to wait for another Phobos transit to get my longitude, and I'll need to wait for nightfall to sight Deneb for my latitude. So I'm done driving for the day. I'd made 70km out of the 90km I usually do. So it's not too much wasted potential driving.

  Marth isn't too steep. I could probably just drive down one side and up the other. It's big enough that I'd end up camping inside it one night. But I don't want to take unnecessary risks. Slopes are bad and should be avoided. I gave myself plenty of buffer time, so I'm going to play it safe.

  I'm ending today's drive early and setting up for recharge. Probably a good idea anyway with the solar cells acting up; it'll give them more time to work. They underperformed again last night. I checked all the connections and made sure there wasn't any dust on them, but they still just aren't 100%.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 475

  I'm in trouble.

  I watched two Phobos transits yesterday and sighted Deneb last night. I worked out my location as accurately as I could, and it wasn't what I wanted to see. As far as I can tell, I hit Marth Crater dead-on.

  Craaaaap.

  This is the worst case scenario. I can go north or south, and they'll be about the same. It'll cost at least a day to correct. All because I aimed wrong yesterday.

  That's frustrating, but it's not why I'm in trouble.

  I still wanted to be efficient, and I wasn't 100% sure where I was. So I took a little walk this morning. It was over a kilometer to the peak of the rim. That's the sort of walk people do on Earth without thinking twice, but in an EVA suit it's an ordeal.

  I can't wait till I have grandchildren. “When I was younger, I had to walk to the rim of a crater. Uphill! In an EVA suit! On Mars, ya little shit! Ya hear me? Mars!”

  Anyway, I got up to the rim and damn, it's a beautiful sight. From my high vantage point, I got a stunning panorama. I figured I might be able to see the far side of Marth Crater, and maybe work out if north or south was the best way around it.

  But I couldn't see the far side. There was a haze in the air. It's not uncommon; Mars has weather and wind and dust, after all. But it seemed hazier than it should. I'm accustomed to the wide-open expanses of Acidalia Planitia, my former prairie home.

  Then it got weirder. I turned around and looked back toward the rover and trailer. Everything was where I'd left it (very few car thieves on Mars). But the view seemed a lot clearer.

  I looked east across Marth again. Then west to the horizon. Then east, then west. Each turn required me to rotate my whole body, EVA suits being what they are.

  Yesterday, I passed a crater. It's about 50km west of here. It's just visible on the horizon. But looking east, I can't see anywhere near that far. Marth Crater is 110km wide. With a visibility of 50km, I should at least be able to see a distinct curvature of the rim. But I can't.

  The fuck?

  At first, I didn't know what to make of it. But the lack of symmetry bothered me. And I've learned to be suspicious of everything. That's when a bunch of stuff started to dawn on me:

  1) The only explanation for asymmetrical visibility is a dust storm.

  2) Dust storms reduce the effectiveness of solar cells.

  3) My solar cells have been slowly losing effectiveness for several sols.

  From this, I concluded the following:

  1) I've been in a dust storm for several sols.

  2) Shit.

  Not only am I in a dust storm, but it gets thicker as I approach Schiaparelli. A few hours ago, I was worried because I had to go around Marth Crater. Now I'm going to have to go around something a fuckload bigger.

  And I have to hustle. Dust storms move. Sitting still means I'll likely get overwhelmed. But which way do I go? It's no longer an issue of trying to be efficient. If I go the wrong way this time, I'll eat dust and die.

  I don't have satellite imagery. I have no way of knowing the size or shape of
the storm, or its heading. Man, I'd give anything for a 5-minute conversation with NASA. Now that I think of it, NASA must be shitting bricks watching this play out.

  I'm on the clock. I have to figure out how to figure out what I need to know about the storm. And I have to do it now.

  And right this second nothing comes to mind.

  Mindy trudged to her computer. Today's shift began at 2:10pm. Her schedule matched Watney's every day. She slept when he slept. Watney simply slept at night on Mars, while Mindy had to drift 40 minutes forward every day, taping aluminum foil to her windows to get any sleep at all.

  She brought up the most recent satellite images. She cocked an eyebrow. He had not broken camp yet. Usually he drove in the early morning, as soon as it was light enough to navigate. Then he capitalized on the midday sun to maximize recharging.

  But today, he had not moved, and it was well past morning.

  She checked around the rovers and bedroom for a message. She found it in the usual place (north of the campsite). Reading the Morse code, her eyes widened.

  “DUST STORM. MAKING PLAN.”

  Fumbling with her cell phone, she dialed Venkat's personal number.

  Chapter 23

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 476

  I think I can work this out.

  I'm on the very edge of a storm. I don't know its size or heading. But it's moving, and that's something I can take advantage of. I don't have to wander around exploring it. It'll come to me.

  The storm is just dust in the air; it's not dangerous to the rovers. I can think of it as “Percent power loss.” I checked yesterdays power generation and it was 97% of optimal. So right now, it's a 3% storm.

  I need to make progress and I need to regenerate oxygen. Those are my two main goals. I use 20% of my overall power to reclaim oxygen (when I stop for Air Days). If I end up in an 81% part of the storm, I'll be in real trouble. I'll run out of oxygen even if I dedicate all available power to it. That's the fatal scenario. But really, it's fatal much earlier than that. I need power to move or I'll be stranded until the storm passes or dissipates. That could be months.

  The more power I generate, the more I'll have for movement. With clear skies, I dedicate 80% of my total power toward movement. I get 90km per sol this way. So Right now, at 3% loss, I'm getting 3.3km less than I should.

  It's ok to lose some driving distance per sol. I have plenty of time, but I can't let myself get too deep in the storm or I'll never be able to get out.

  At the very least, I need to travel faster than the storm. If I can go faster, I can maneuver around it without being enveloped. I need to find out how fast it's moving.

  I can do that by sitting here for a sol. I can compare tomorrow's wattage to today's. All I have to do is make sure to compare the same times of day. Then I'd know how fast the storm is moving, at least in terms of percent power loss.

  But I need to know the shape of the storm, too.

  Dust storms are big. They can be thousands of kilometers across. So when I work my way around it, I'll need to know which way to go. I'll want to move perpendicular to the storm's movement, and in whatever direction has less storm.

  So here's my plan:

  Right now, I can go 86km (because I couldn't get a full battery yesterday). I'm going to leave a solar cell here and drive 40km due south. Then I'll drop off another solar cell and drive another 40km due south. I'll have three points of reference across 80km.

  The next day, I'll go back to collect the cells and get the data. By comparing the wattage at the same time of day in those three locations, I'll learn the shape of the storm. If the storm is thicker to the south, I'll go north to get around it. If it's thicker north, I'll go south.

  I'm hoping to go south. Schiaparelli is southeast of me. Going north would add a lot of time to my total trip.

  There's one slight problem with my plan: I don't have any way to “record” the wattage from an abandoned solar cell. I can easily track and log wattage with the rover computer, but I need something I can drop off and leave behind. I can't just take readings as I drive along. I need readings at the same time in different places.

  So I'm going to spend today working on some mad science. I have to make something that can log wattage. Something I can leave behind with a single solar cell.

  Since I'm stuck here for the day anyway, I'll leave the solar cells out. I may as well get a full battery out of it.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 477

  It took all day yesterday and today, but I think I'm ready to measure this storm.

  When I packed for this road trip, I made sure to bring all my kits and tools. Just in case I had to repair the rover en-route.

  I made the bedroom in to a lab. I stacked my supply containers to form a rudimentary table, and used a sample box as a stool.

  I needed a way to track the time of day and the wattage of the solar cell. The tricky part is logging it. And the solution is the extra EVA suit I brought along.

  The cool thing about EVA suits is they have cameras recording everything they see. There's a camera on the right arm (or the left if the astronaut is left handed), and one above the faceplate. A time-stamp is burned in to the lower left corner of the image, just like the shaky home videos Dad used to take.

  My electronics kit has several power meters. So I figure: why make my own logging system? I can just film the power meter all day long.

  So that's what I set up.

  First, I harvested the cameras from my spare EVA suit. I had to be careful; I didn't want to ruin the suit. It's my only spare. I had to get the cameras and the lines leading to their memory chips.

  I put a power meter in to a small sample container, then glued a camera to the underside of the lid. When I sealed up the container, the camera was properly recording the readout of the power meter.

  For testing, I used rover power. How will it get power once I abandon it on the surface? Well, it turns out it's going to be attached to a 2 square meter solar cell. That'll be plenty. And I put a small rechargeable battery in the container to tide it over during nighttime (again, harvested from the spare EVA suit).

  The next problem is heat, or the lack thereof. As soon as I take this thing out of the rover, it'll start cooling down mighty fast. Once it gets too cold, the electronics will stop working entirely.

  So I needed a heat source. And my electronics kit provided the answer. Resistors. Lots and lots of them. The camera and power meter only need a tiny fraction of what a solar cell can make. So I'm dumping the rest of the energy through resistors.

  Resistors heat up. It's what they do. There's my heat source.

  I made and tested two “power loggers”, and confirmed the images were being properly recorded.

  Then I had an EVA. I detached two of my solar cells and hooked them up to the power loggers. I let them log happily for an hour, then brought them back in to check the results. They worked great.

  It's getting toward nightfall now. Tomorrow morning, I'll leave one power logger behind, and head south.

  While I was working, I left the Oxygenator going (why not?). So I'm all stocked up on O2 and good to go.

  The solar cell efficiency for today was 92.5%. Compared to yesterday's 97%. So right now, the storm is moving at 4.5% per sol. If I were to stay here another 16 sols, it would get dark enough to kill me.

  Just as well I'm not going to stay here.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 478

  Everything went as planned today. No hiccups. I can't tell if I'm driving deeper in to the storm or out of it. It's hard to tell if the ambient light is less or more than it was yesterday. The human brain works hard to abstract that out.

  I left a power-logger behind when I started out. Then, after 40km travel due south, I had a quick EVA to set up another. Now I've gone the full 80km, set up my solar cells for charging, and I'm logging the wattage.

  Tomorrow, I'll have to reverse course and pick up the power-loggers. It may be dangerous; I'll be driving right back in to a known storm area. But the risk
is worth the gain.

  Also, have I mentioned I'm sick of potatoes? Because, by God, I am sick of potatoes. If I ever return to Earth, I'm going to buy a nice little home in Western Australia. Because Western Australia is on the opposite side of Earth from Idaho.

  I bring it up because I dined on a meal pack today. I had saved 5 packs for special occasions. I ate the first of them 29 sols ago when I left for Schiaparelli. I totally forgot to eat the second when I reached the half-way point 9 sols ago. So I'm enjoying my belated half-way feast.

  It's probably more accurate to eat it today anyway. Who knows how long it'll take me to go around this storm. And if I end up stuck in the storm and doomed to die, I'm totally eating the other earmarked meals.

  LOG ENTRY: SOL 479

  Have you ever taken the wrong freeway entrance? You need to drive to the next exit to turn around, but you hate every inch of travel because you're going away from your goal.

  I felt like that all day. I'm now back where I started yesterday morning. Yuk.

  Along the way, I picked up the power-logger I'd left behind at the half-way point. Just now I brought in the one I'd left here yesterday.

  Both loggers worked they way I'd hoped. I downloaded each of their video recordings to a laptop and advanced them to noon. Finally I had solar efficiency readings from three locations along an 80km line, all from the same time of day.

  As of noon yesterday, the northern-most logger showed 12.3% efficiency loss,