by Энди Вейр
The first thing I noticed was that it was really hot in there. It took me a few minutes to work out why.
The Atmospheric Regulator was still in perfect working order, but it had nothing to do. Without being connected to the rover, it no longer had my CO2 production to deal with. The atmosphere in the trailer was perfect, why change anything?
With no regulation necessary, the air was not being pumped out to the AREC for freeze-separation. And thus it wasn’t coming back in as a liquid in need of heating.
But remember, the RTG gives off heat all the time. You can’t stop it. So the heat just built up. Eventually, things reached a balance point where the heat bled through the hull as fast as the RTG could add it. If you’re curious, that balance point was a sweltering 41C.
I did a full diagnostic on the Regulator and Oxygenator and I’m happy to report both are working perfectly.
The RTG’s water tank was empty, which is no surprise. It was an open top, not intended to be turned upside down. The floor of the trailer has a lot of puddled water that took me quite a while to sop up with my jumpsuit. I topped the tank off with some more water from a sealed container that I’d stored in the trailer earlier. Remember, I need that water to have something for the returning air to bubble through. That’s my heating system.
But all things considered, it was good news. The critical components are working fine, and both vehicles are back on their tires.
The hoses that connected the rover and trailer were designed well, and released without breaking. I simply snapped them back in to place and the vehicles were sharing life support again.
The one remaining thing to fix was the tow hook. It was absolutely ruined. It took the full force of the crash. As I suspected, the trailer’s tow hook was unscathed. So I transferred it to the rover and reconnected the two vehicles for travel.
All told, that little fender-bender cost me 4 sols. But now I’m back in action!
Sort of.
What if I run in to another powder pit? I got lucky this time. Next time I might not get off so easy. I think this was sort of a freak accident. The problem was that one wheel was on solid ground while the other was on soft powder.
I need a way to know if the ground in front of me is safe. At least for the duration of my time on The Ramp. Once I’m in the Schiaparelli Basin proper, I can count on the normal sandy terrain I’m used to.
If I could have anything, it would be a radio to ask NASA the safe path down the Ramp. Well, if I could have anything, it would be for the green-skinned yet beautiful Queen of Mars to rescue me so she can learn more about this Earth thing called “lovemaking”.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a woman. Just sayin'.
Anyway, to ensure I don’t crash again, I’ll-- Seriously… no women in like, years. I don’t ask for much. And believe me, a Botanist / Mechanical Engineer doesn’t exactly have ladies lined up at the door. But still, c’mon.
Anyway. I’ll drive slower. Like… a crawl. That should give me enough time to react if one wheel starts to sink. Also, the lower speed will give me more torque, making it less likely I lose traction.
Up till now I’ve been driving 25kph, so I’m going to cut that to 5kph. I’m still toward the top of the Ramp, but the whole thing is only 40km. I can take my time and get safely to the bottom. It should take about 8 hours.
I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m already out of daylight again today. That’s another bonus: Once I clear the ramp, I can start bee-lining toward the MAV, which will take me away from the crater wall. I’ll be back to enjoying the entire day’s sunlight instead of just half of it.
If I get back to Earth, I’ll be famous, right? A fearless astronaut who beat all the odds, right? I bet women like that.
More motivation to stay alive.
“So it looks like he’s fixed everything,” Mindy explained. “And his message today was ALL BETTER NOW so I guess he’s got everything working.”
She surveyed the smiling faces of the meeting room.
“Awesome.” Mitch said.
“Great news,” Bruce’s voice came in through the speakerphone.
Venkat leaned forward to the speakerphone “How are the MAV modification plans coming, Bruce? Is JPL going to have that procedure soon?”
“We’re working around the clock on it,” Bruce said. “We’re past most of the big hurdles. Working out the details now.”
“Good, good,” Venkat said. “Any surprises I should know about?”
“Um…” Bruce said. “Yeah, a few. This might not be the best venue for it. I’ll be back in Houston with the procedure in a day or two. We can go through it then.”
“Ominous,” Venkat said. “But ok. We’ll pick it up later.”
“Can I spread the word?” Annie asked. “It’d be nice to see something other than the rover crash site on the news tonight.”
“Definitely,” Venkat said. “It’ll be nice to have some good news for a change. Mindy, how long until he gets to the MAV?”
“At his usual rate of 90km per sol,” Mindy said, “he should get there on Sol 504. Sol 505 if he takes his time. He always drives in the early morning, finishing around noon.” She checked an application on her laptop. “Noon on Sol 504 will be 11:41am this Wednesday here in Houston. Noon on Sol 505 will be 12:21pm on Thursday.”
“Mitch, who’s handling Ares 4 MAV communication?”
“The Ares 3 mission control team,” Mitch replied. “It’ll be in control room 2”.
“I assume you’ll be there?”
“Bet your ass I’ll be there.”
“So will I.”
LOG ENTRY: SOL 502
Every Thanksgiving, my family used to drive from Chicago to Sandusky, an 8-hour drive. It’s where Mom’s sister lived. Dad would always drive, and he was the slowest, most cautious driver who ever took the wheel.
Seriously. He drove like he was taking a driver’s test. Never exceeded the speed limit, always had his hands at 10 and 2, adjusted mirrors before each outing, you name it.
It was infuriating. We’d be on the freeway, cars blowing by left and right. Some of them would blare their horns because, honestly, driving the speed limit makes you a road hazard. I wanted to get out and push.
I felt that way all damn day today. 5km/h is literally a walking pace. And I drove that speed for eight hours.
But the slow speed ensured that I wouldn’t fall in to anymore powder pits along the way. And of course I didn’t encounter any. I could have driven full speed and had no problems. But better safe than sorry.
The good news is I’m off the Ramp. I camped out as soon as the terrain flattened out. I’ve already overdone my driving time for the day. I could go further, I still have 15% battery power or so, but I want to get as much daylight on my solar cells as I can.
I’m in the Schiaparelli Basin at last! Far from the crater wall, too. I get a full day of sunlight every day from now on.
I decided it was time for a very special occasion. I ate the meal pack labeled “Survived Something That Should Have Killed Me.” Oh my god, I forgot how good real food tastes.
With luck, I’ll get to eat “Arrival” in a few sols.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 503
I didn’t get as much recharge I usually would yesterday. Because of my extended driving time, I only recharged to 70% before night fell. So today’s driving was abbreviated.
I got 63km before I had to camp out again. But I don’t even mind. Because I’m only 148km from the MAV. That means I’ll get there the sol after tomorrow.
Holy hell, I’m really going to make it!
LOG ENTRY: SOL 504
Holy shit this is awesome! Holy shit! Holy shit!
Ok calm. Calm.
I made 90km today. By my estimate, I’m 50km from the MAV. I should get there some time tomorrow. I’m excited about that, but here’s what I’m really stoked about: I caught a blip from the MAV!
NASA has the MAV broadcasting the Ares 3 Hab homing signal. Why wouldn’t they? It
makes perfect sense. Unlike my worn out shit, the MAV is a sleek, perfectly functional machine, ready to do what it’s told. And they have it pretending to be the Ares 3 Hab so my rover will see the signal and tell me where it is.
That is an exceptionally good idea! I won’t have to wander around looking for the thing. I’m going straight to it.
I only caught a blip. I’ll get more as I get closer. It has three redundant methods of communicating with Earth, but they’re extremely directed and are designed for line-of-sight communication. It’s strange to think that a sand dune will stop me from hearing what the MAV has to say, but it can talk to Earth no problem. Well, there aren’t any sand dunes between it and Earth when they talk.
Somehow they messed with things to make a radial signal, however weak it may be. And I heard it!
My message for the day was “GOT BEACON SIGNAL.” If I’d had enough rocks, I would have added “AWESOME FUCKING IDEA!!!” But it’s a really sandy area.
The MAV waited in southwestern Schiaparelli. It stood an impressive 27 meters tall, its conical body gleaming in the midday sun.
The rover crested a nearby dune with the trailer in tow. It slowed for a few moments, then continued toward the ship at top speed. It came to a stop 20 meters away.
There it remained for ten minutes while the astronaut inside suited up.
He stumbled excitedly out of the airlock, falling to the ground then scrambling to his feet. Beholding the MAV, he gestured to it with both arms, as if in disbelief.
He leaped in to the air several times, arms held high with fists clenched. Then he knelt on one knee and fist-pumped repeatedly.
Running to the spacecraft, he hugged Landing Strut B. After a few moments, he broke off the embrace to perform another round of leaping celebrations.
Now fatigued, the astronaut stood with arms akimbo, looking up at the sleek lines of the engineering marvel before him.
Climbing the ladder on the landing stage, he reached the ascent stage and entered the airlock. He sealed the door behind him.
Chapter 25
LOG ENTRY: SOL 505
I finally made it! I’m at the MAV!
Well, right this second, I’m back in the rover. I did go in to the MAV to do a systems check and boot-up. I had to keep my EVA suit on the whole time because there’s no life support in there just yet.
It’s going through a self check right now, and I’m feeding it oxygen and nitrogen with hoses from the rover. This is all part of the MAV’s design. It doesn’t bring air along. Why would it? That’s a needless weight when you’ll have a Hab full of air right next door.
I’m guessing folks at NASA are popping champagne right now and sending me lots of messages. I’ll read them in a bit. First things first: Get the MAV some life support. Then I’ll be able to work comfortably inside.
And then I’ll have a boring conversation with NASA. The content may be interesting, but the 14-minute transmission time between here and Earth will be a bit dull.
[13:07]HOUSTON: Congratulations from all of us here at Mission Control! Well done! What’s your status?
[13:21]MAV: Thanks! No health or physical problems. The rover and trailer are getting pretty worn out, but still functional. Oxygenator and Regulator both working fine. I didn’t bring the Water Reclaimer. Just brought the water. Plenty of potatoes left. I’m good to last till 549.
[13:36]HOUSTON: Glad to hear it. Hermes is still on track for a Sol 549 flyby. As you know, the MAV will need to lose some weight to make the intercept. We’re going to get you those procedures within the day. How much water do you have? What did you do with urine?
[13:50]MAV: I have 550L of remaining water. I’ve been dumping urine outside along the way.
[14:05]HOUSTON: Preserve all water. Don’t do any more urine dumps. Store it somewhere. Turn the rover’s radio on and leave it on. We can contact it through MAV.
“So is it ready?” Venkat asked.
“Yes, it’s ready.” Bruce said. “But you’re not going to like it.”
“Go on.”
“Bear in mind,” Bruce said, producing a booklet from his briefcase, “This is the end result of thousands of hours of work, testing, and lateral thinking by all the best guys at JPL.”
“I’m sure it was hard to trim down a ship that’s already designed to be as light as possible,” Venkat said.
Bruce slid the booklet across the desk to Venkat. “The problem is the intercept velocity. The MAV is designed to get to Low Mars Orbit, which is 4.1kps. But the Hermes flyby will be 5.8kps.”
Venkat flipped through the pages. “Care to summarize?”
“Firstly, we’re going to add fuel. The MAV makes its own fuel from the Martian atmosphere, but it’s limited by how much Hydrogen it has. It brought enough to make 19,397kg of fuel, as it was designed to do. If we can give it more hydrogen, it can make more.”
“How much more?”
“For every kilogram of hydrogen, it can make 13 kilograms of fuel. Watney has 550 liters of water. We’ll have him electrolyze it to get 60kg of Hydrogen.” Bruce reached over the desk and flipped a few pages, pointing to a diagram. “The fuel plant can make 780kg of fuel from that.”
“If he electrolyzes his water what’ll he drink?”
“He can electrolyze urine, so we only need to set a few liters aside for the last couple of days.”
“I see. And what does 780kg of fuel buy us?” Venkat asked.
“It buys us 300kg of payload. It’s all about fuel versus payload. The MAV’s launch weight is over 12,600kg. We need to get that down to 7,300kg. That’s accounting for the bonus fuel. So the rest of this booklet is how to remove over five thousand kilograms from the ship.”
Venkat leaned back. “Walk me through it.”
Bruce pulled another copy of the booklet from his briefcase. “There were some gimmies right off the bat. The design presumes 500kg of Martian soil and rock samples. Obviously we won’t do that. Also, there’s just one passenger instead of six. That saves 500kg when you consider their weight plus their suits and gear. And we can lose the other 5 acceleration chairs. And of course, we’ll remove all nonessential gear. The med kit, tool kit, internal harnessing, straps, and anything else that isn’t nailed down. And some stuff that is.
“Next up,” he continued, “We’re ditching all life support. The tanks, pumps, heaters, air lines, CO2 absorption system, even the insulation on the inner side of the hull. We don’t need it. We’ll have Watney wear his EVA suit for the whole trip.”
“Won’t that make it awkward for him to use the controls?” Venkat asked.
“He won’t use any controls,” Bruce said. “Major Martinez will pilot the MAV remotely from Hermes. It’s already designed for remote piloting. It was remotely landed, after all.”
“What if something goes wrong?” Venkat asked.
“Martinez is the best trained pilot,” Bruce said. “If there is an emergency, he’s the guy you want controlling the ship.”
“Hmm,” Venkat said cautiously. “We’ve never had a manned ship controlled remotely before. But ok. Go on.”
“Since Watney won’t be flying the ship,” Bruce continued, “he won’t need any of those controls. We’ll ditch the control panels and all the power and data lines that lead to them.”
“Wow,” Venkat said. “We’re really gutting this thing.”
“I’m just getting started,” Bruce said. “The power needs will be dramatically reduced now that life support is gone, so we’ll dump three of the five batteries and the auxiliary power system. The Orbital Maneuvering System has 3 redundant thrusters. We’ll get rid of those. Also, the secondary and tertiary comm systems can go.”
“Wait, what?” Venkat said, shocked. “You’re going to have a remote controlled ascent with no backup comm systems?”
“No point,” Bruce said. “If the comm system goes out during ascent, the time it takes to reacquire will be too long to do any good. The backups don’t help us.”
“This is ge
tting really risky, Bruce.”
Bruce sighed. “I know, Venkat. There’s just no other way. And I’m not even to the nasty stuff yet.”
Venkat rubbed his forehead. “By all means, tell me the nasty stuff.”
“We’ll remove the nose airlock, the windows, and Hull Panel 19.”
Venkat blinked. “You’re taking the front of the ship off?”
“Sure,” Bruce said. “The nose airlock alone is 400kg. The windows are pretty damn heavy, too. And they’re connected by Hull Panel 19 so may as well take that, too.”
“So he’s going to launch with a big hole in the front of the ship?”
“We’ll have him cover it with Hab canvas.”
“Hab canvas? For a launch to orbit!?”
Bruce shrugged. “The hull’s mostly there to keep the air in. Mars’s atmosphere is so thin you don’t need a lot of streamlining. By the time the ship’s going fast enough for air resistance to matter, it’ll be high enough that there’s practically no air. We’ve run all the simulations. Should be good.”
“You’re sending him to space under a tarp.”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Like a hastily loaded pick up truck.”
“Yeah. Can I go on?”
“Sure, can’t wait.”
“We’ll also have him remove the back panel of the pressure vessel. It’s the only other panel he can remove with the tools on-hand. Also, we’re getting rid of the auxiliary fuel pump. Sad to see it go, but it weighs too much for its usefulness. And we’re nixing a Stage One engine.”
“An engine?”
“Yeah. The Stage One booster works fine if one engine goes out. It’ll save us a huge amount of weight. Only during the Stage One ascent, but still. Pretty good fuel savings.”
Bruce fell silent.
“That it?” Venkat asked.
“Yeah.”
Venkat sighed. “You’ve removed most of the safety backups. What’s this do to the estimated odds of failure?”
