by Энди Вейр
The trailer has tons of space. I put a fuckton of work in to making that happen. The balloon gives plenty of headroom. Not a lot of floor space, but still lots of vertical area.
Also, the bedroom has several valve apertures in its canvas. I have the pop-tents to thank for that again. I just needed swaths of canvas so I stole it from wherever I could. I stole a lot from the pop tents, and they had valve apertures (triple redundant ones, actually). NASA wanted to make sure the emergency shelter allows the crew on the outside to get air in to the crew on the inside.
In the end, I’ll have the bedroom sealed with the Oxygenator and Atmospheric Regulator inside. It’ll be attached to the trailer via hoses to share the same atmosphere and I’ll run a power line through one of the hoses. The rover will serve as storage (because I won’t need to get to the driving controls any more) and the trailer will be completely empty. Then I’ll have a permanent bedroom. I’ll even be able to use it as a workshop for whatever MAV modifications I need to do on parts that can fit through the trailer’s airlock.
Of course, if the Atmospheric Regulator or Oxygenator have problems, I’ll need to cut in to the bedroom to get to them. But I’ve been here 492 sols and they’ve worked fine the whole time, so I’ll take that risk.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 497
I’ll be at the entrance to Schiaparelli crater tomorrow!
Presuming nothing goes wrong, that is. But hey, everything else has gone smoothly this mission, right? (That was sarcasm.)
Today’s an Air Day and for once, I don’t want it. I’m so close to Schiaparelli, I can taste it. I guess it would taste like sand, mostly, but that’s not the point.
Of course, that won’t be the end of the trip. It’ll take another 3 sols to get from the entrance to the MAV, but hot damn! I’m almost there!
I think I can even see the rim of Schiaparelli. It’s way the hell off in the distance and it might just be my imagination. It’s 62km away, so if I’m seeing it, I’m only just barely seeing it.
Tomorrow, once I get to Entrance Crater, I’ll turn south and enter the Schiaparelli Basin via the “Entrance Ramp.” I did some back-of-the-napkin math and the slope should be pretty safe. The elevation change from the rim to the basin is 1.5km, and the Ramp is at least 45km long. That makes for a 2-degree grade. No problem.
Tomorrow night, I’ll sink to an all new low!
Lemme rephrase that…
Tomorrow night, I’ll be at rock bottom!
No, that doesn’t sound good either…
Tomorrow night, I’ll be in Giovanni Schiaparelli’s favorite hole!
Ok, I admit I’m just fucking around now.
For millions of years, the rim of the crater had been under constant attack from wind. It eroded the rocky crest like a river cuts through a mountain range. After aeons, it finally breached the edge.
The high pressure zone created by the wind now had an avenue to drain. The breach widened more and more with each passing millennium. As it widened, dust and sand particles carried along with the attack settled in the basin below.
Eventually, a balance point was reached. The sand had piled up high enough to be flush with the land outside the crater. It no longer built upward, but now outward. The slope lengthened until a new balance point was reached, one defined by the complex interactions of countless tiny particles and their ability to maintain an angled shape. Entrance Ramp had been born.
The weather brought dunes and desert terrain. Nearby crater impacts brought rocks and boulders. The shape became uneven.
Gravity did its work. The ramp compressed over time. But it did not compress evenly. Differing densities shrunk at different rates. Some areas became hard as rock while others remained as soft as talc.
While providing a small average slope into the crater, the ramp itself was rugged and bitterly uneven.
Upon reaching Entrance Crater, the lone inhabitant of Mars turned his vehicle toward the Schiaparelli Basin. The difficult terrain was unexpected, but looked no worse than other terrain he routinely navigated.
He went around the smaller dunes, and carefully crested the larger ones. He took care with every turn, every rise or fall in elevation, and every boulder in his path. He thought through every course and considered all alternatives.
But it wasn’t enough.
The rover, while descending down a seemingly ordinary slope, drove off an invisible ridge. The dense, hard soil suddenly gave way to soft powder. With the entire surface covered by at least 5cm of dust, there were no visual hints to the sudden change.
The rover’s left front wheel sank. The sudden tilt brought the right rear wheel completely off the ground. This in turn put more weight on the left rear wheel, which slipped from it’s precarious purchase into the powder as well.
Before the traveler could react, the rover rolled on to its side. As it did, the solar cells neatly stacked on the roof flew off and scattered like a dropped deck of cards.
The trailer, attached to the rover with a tow clamp, was dragged along. The torsion on the clamp snapped the strong composite like a brittle twig. The hoses connecting the two vehicles also snapped. The trailer plunged head-long in to the soft soil and flipped over on to its balloon-roof, shuddering to an abrupt halt.
The rover was not so lucky. It continued tumbling down the hill, bouncing the traveler around like clothes in a dryer. After 20 meters, the soft powder gave way to more solid sand and it shuddered to a halt.
The rover had come to rest on its side. The valves leading to the now missing hoses had detected the sudden pressure drop and closed. The pressure seal was not breached.
The traveler was alive for now.
Chapter 24
The department heads stared at the satellite image on the projection screen.
"Jesus," Mitch said. "What the hell happened?"
"The rover’s on its side," Mindy said, pointing to the screen. "The trailer’s upside down. Those rectangles scattered around are solar cells."
Venkat put a hand on his chin. "Do we have any information on the state of the rover pressure vessel?"
"Nothing obvious," Mindy said.
"Any signs of Watney doing something after the accident? An EVA maybe?"
"No EVA," Mindy said. "The weather’s clear. If he’d come out there’d be visible footsteps."
"Is this the entire crash site?" Bruce Ng asked.
"I think so," Mindy said. "Up toward the top of the photo, which is North, there are ordinary wheel tracks. Right here," she pointed to a large disturbance in the soil, "is where I think things went wrong. Judging by where that ditch is, I’d say the rover rolled and slid from there. You can see the trench it left behind. The trailer flipped forward on to its roof."
"I’m not saying everything’s ok," Bruce said, "but I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks."
"Go on," Venkat said.
"The rover’s designed to handle a roll," Bruce explained. "And if there’d been pressure loss there’d be a starburst pattern in the sand. I don’t see anything like that."
"Watney may still be hurt inside," Mitch said. "He could have banged his head or broken an arm or something."
"Sure," Bruce said. "I’m just saying the rover is probably ok."
"When was this taken?"
Mindy checked her watch. "We got it 17 minutes ago. We’ll get another pic in 9 minutes when MGS4’s orbit brings it in view.”
“First thing he’ll do is an EVA to assess damage,” Venkat said. “Mindy, keep us posted on any changes.”
LOG ENTRY: SOL 498
Hmm.
Yeah.
Things don’t go well on the descent in to Schiaparelli Basin. To give you some indication of how unwell they went, I’m reaching up to the computer to type this. Because it’s still mounted near the control panel, and the rover is on its side.
I got bounced around a lot, but I’m a well-honed machine in times of crisis. As soon as the rover toppled, I curled in to a ball and cowered. That’s the kind of action hero I
am.
It worked, too. Cause I’m not hurt.
The pressure vessel is intact, so that’s a plus. The valves that lead to the trailer hoses are shut. Probably means the hoses disconnected. And that means the trailer junction snapped. Wonderful.
Looking around the interior here, I don’t think anything is broken. The water tanks stayed sealed. There aren’t any visible leaks in the air tanks. The bedroom came unfolded and it’s all over the place, but it’s just canvas so it can’t have gotten too hurt.
The driving controls are ok, and the Nav Computer is telling me the rover is at an "unacceptably dangerous tilt." Thanks, Nav!
So I rolled. That’s not the end of the world. I’m alive and the rover’s fine. I’m more worried about the solar cells I probably rolled over. Also, since the trailer detached there’s a good chance it’s fucked up, too. The balloon roof it has isn’t exactly durable. If it popped, the shit inside will have flung out in all directions and I’ll have to go find it. That’s my critical life support.
Speaking of life support, the rover switched over to the local tanks when the valves shut. Good boy, Rover! Here’s a Scooby-Snack.
I’ve got 20L of oxygen (enough to keep me breathing for 40 days) but without the Regulator (which is in the trailer) I’m back to chemical CO2 absorption. I have 312 hours of filters left. Plus I have another 171 hours of EVA suit CO2 filters as well. All told, they’ll last 483 hours, which is close to 20 sols. So I have time to get things working again.
I’m really damn close to the MAV now. About 220km. I’m not going to let something like this stop me from getting there. And I don’t need everything to work at top form anymore. I just need the rover to work for 220 more kilometers and the life support to work for 51 more sols. That’s it.
Time to suit up and look for the trailer.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 498 (2)
I had an EVA and things aren’t too bad. Mind you, they’re not good.
I trashed 3 solar cells. They’re under the rover and cracked all to hell. They might still be able to piss out out a few watts, but I’m not holding out much hope. I did come in to this with one extra solar cell. I needed 28 for my daily operations and I brought 29 (14 on the rover’s roof, 7on the trailer’s roof, and 8 on the makeshift shelves I installed on the sides of both vehicles.)
I tried pushing the rover over, but I wasn’t strong enough. I’ll need to rig something to get a leverage advantage. Other than being on its side, I don’t see any real problems.
Well, that’s not true. The tow hook is fucked beyond repair. Half of it ripped clean off. Fortunately, the trailer also has a tow hook, so I have a spare.
The trailer’s in a precarious situation. It’s upside-down and sitting on the inflated roof. I’m not sure which god smiled down on me and kept that balloon from popping, but I’m grateful. My first priority will be righting it. The longer it puts weight on that balloon, the larger the chances it’ll pop.
While I was out, I collected the 26 solar cells that aren’t under the rover and set them up to recharge my batteries. May as well, right?
So right now, I have a few problems to tackle: First, I need to right the trailer. Or at least get the weight off the balloon. Next, I need to right the rover. Finally, I need to replace the rover’s tow hook with the one on the trailer.
Also, I should spell out a message for NASA. They’re probably worried.
Mindy read the Morse code aloud. “Rolled. Fixing now.”
“What? That’s it?” Venkat said over the phone.
“That’s all he said,” she reported, cradling the phone as she typed out an email to the list of interested parties.
“Just three words? Nothing about his physical health? His equipment? His supplies?”
“You got me,” she said. “He left a detailed status report. I just decided to lie for no reason.”
“Funny,” Venkat said. “Be a smart-ass to a guy seven levels above you at your company. See how that works out.”
“Oh no,” Mindy said. “I might lose my job as an interplanetary voyeur? I guess I’d have to use my Master’s degree for something else.”
“I remember when you were shy.”
“I’m space paparazzi now. The attitude comes with the job.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Venkat said. “Just send the email.”
“Already sent.”
LOG ENTRY: SOL 499
I had a busy day today and I got a lot done.
I started out pretty sore. I had to sleep on the wall of the rover. The bedroom won’t work when the airlock is facing up. I did get to use the bedroom, somewhat. I folded it up and used it as a bed.
Anyway, suffice to say the wall of the rover wasn’t made for sleeping on. But after a morning potato and Vicodin, I was feeling much better.
At first I figured my top priority was the trailer. Then I changed my mind. After taking a good look at it, I decided I’d never be able to right it by myself. I’d need the rover.
So today was focused on getting the rover righted.
I brought all my tools along on this trip, figuring I’d need them for the MAV modifications. And along with them I brought cabling. Once I get set up at the MAV, my solar cells and batteries will be in a fixed position. I don’t want to move the rover around every time I use a drill on the far side of the MAV. So I brought all the electrical cabling I could fit.
Good thing, too. Because it doubles as rope.
I dug up my longest cable. It’s the same one I used to power the drill that destroyed Pathfinder. I call it my “Lucky Cable.”
I plugged one end in to the battery and the other in to the infamous sample drill. Then walked off with the drill to find solid ground. Once I found it, I kept going until I’d gone as far as the electrical line would reach. I drove a 1-meter bit half a meter into a rock, unplugged the power line, and tied it around the base of the bit.
Then I went back to the rover and tied off the cord to the roof-rack bar on the high side. Now I had a long, taut line running perpendicular to the rover.
I walked to the middle of the cord and pulled it laterally. The leverage advantage on the rover was huge. I only hoped it wouldn’t break the drill bit before it tipped the rover.
I backed away, pulling the line more and more. Something had to give, and it wasn’t going to be me. I had Archimedes on my side. The rover finally tipped.
It fell on to its wheels, kicking up a large cloud of soft dust. It was a silent affair. I was far enough away that the thin atmosphere had no hope of carrying the sound to me.
I untied the power line, liberated the drill bit, and returned to the rover. I gave it a full system’s check. That’s a boring-as-hell task but I had to do it. Every system and subsystem was working correctly.
JPL did a damn good job making these rovers. If I get back to Earth, I’m buying Bruce Ng a beer. Though I guess I should buy all the JPL guys a beer.
Beers for fucking everyone if I get back to Earth.
Anyway, with the rover back on its wheels it was time to work on the trailer. Problem is, I’m in a crater.
I had gotten most of the way down the Ramp when I rolled the rover. And the Ramp is up against the western edge of the crater. So the sun sets really early from my point of view. I’m in the shadow of the western wall. And that royally sucks.
Mars is not Earth. It doesn’t have a thick atmosphere to bend light and carry particles that reflect light around corners. It’s damn-near a vacuum here. Once the sun isn’t visible, I’m in the dark. Phobos gives me some moonlight, but not enough to work with. Deimos is a little piece of shit that’s no good to anyone.
Long story short: I ran out of daylight. I hate to leave the trailer sitting on its balloon for another night, but there’s not much else I can do. I figure it’s survived a whole day like that. It’s probably stable for now.
And hey, with the rover righted, I get to use the bedroom again! It’s the simple things in life that matter.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 500
<
br /> When I woke up this morning, the trailer hadn’t popped yet. So that was a good start.
The trailer was a bigger challenge than the rover. I only had to tip the rover. I’d need to completely flip the trailer. That requires lot more force than yesterday’s little leverage trick.
The first step was to drive the rover to near the trailer. Then came the digging.
Oh god the digging.
The trailer was upside down with its nose pointed downhill. I decided the best way to right it was to take advantage of the slope and roll the trailer over its nose. Basically to make it do a somersault to land on its wheels.
I can make this happen by tying off the cable to the rear of the trailer and towing with the rover. But if I tried that without digging a hole first, the trailer would just slide along the ground. I needed it to tip up. I needed a hole for the nose to fall in to.
So I dug a hole. A hole one by three meters, and one meter deep. It took me four miserable hours of hard labor, but I got it done.
I hopped in the rover and drove it downhill, dragging the trailer with me. As I’d hoped, the trailer nosed in to the hole and tipped up. From there, it fell on to its wheels with a huge plume of dust.
Then I sat for a moment, dumbstruck that my plan actually worked.
And now I’m out of daylight again. I can’t wait to get out of this fucking shadow. All I need is one day of driving toward the MAV and I’ll be away from the wall. But for now, it’s another early night.
I’ll spend tonight without the trailer to manage my life support. It may be righted, but I have no idea if the shit inside still works. The rover still has ample supplies for me.
I’ll spend the rest of the evening enjoying a potato. And by “enjoying” I mean “hating so much I want to kill people.”
LOG ENTRY: SOL 501
I started the day with some Nothin' Tea. Nothin' Tea is easy to make. First, get some hot water, then add nothin'. I experimented with Potato Skin Tea a few weeks ago. The less said about that the better.
I ventured in to the trailer today. Not an easy task. It’s pretty cramped in there; I had to leave my EVA suit in the airlock.
