Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentseitheraretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,events,orlocalesisentirelycoincidental.

Copyright©2011,2014byAndyWeir

Allrightsreserved.PublishedintheUnitedStatesbyCrownPublishers,animprintoftheCrownPublishingGroup,adivisionofRandomHouseLLC,aPenguinRandomHouseCompany,NewYork.www.crownpublishing.com

CROWNandtheCrowncolophonareregisteredtrademarksofRandomHouseLLC.

Originallyself-published,indifferentform,asanebookin2011.

LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-Publicationdataisavailableuponrequest.

ISBN9780804139021eBookISBN:9780804139038

PrintedintheUnitedStatesofAmerica

BookdesignbyElizabethRendfleischMapbyFredHaynesPhotographbyAntonioM.Rosario/Stockbyte/GettyImagesJacketdesignbyEricWhiteJacketphotograph(astronaut):NASA

ep_v4.0

ForMom,whocallsme“Pickle,”

andDad,whocallsme“Dude.”

Contents

CoverTitlePageCopyrightDedicationMap

Chapter1Chapter2Chapter3Chapter4Chapter5Chapter6Chapter7Chapter8Chapter9Chapter10Chapter11Chapter12Chapter13Chapter14Chapter15Chapter16Chapter17Chapter18Chapter19Chapter20Chapter21Chapter22Chapter23

Chapter24Chapter25Chapter26

CHAPTER1

LOGENTRY:SOL6

I’mprettymuchfucked.That’smyconsideredopinion.Fucked.Six days into what should be the greatest two months of my life, and it’s

turnedintoanightmare.Idon’t evenknowwho’ll read this. Iguess someonewill find it eventually.

Maybeahundredyearsfromnow.Fortherecord…Ididn’tdieonSol6.CertainlytherestofthecrewthoughtI

did,andIcan’tblame them.Maybe there’llbeadayofnationalmourningforme,andmyWikipediapagewillsay,“MarkWatneyistheonlyhumanbeingtohavediedonMars.”Andit’llberight,probably.’CauseI’llsurelydiehere.JustnotonSol6when

everyonethinksIdid.Let’ssee…wheredoIbegin?TheAresProgram.Mankindreachingout toMars tosendpeople toanother

planet for the very first time and expand the horizons of humanity blah, blah,blah. The Ares 1 crew did their thing and came back heroes. They got theparadesandfameandloveoftheworld.Ares2did the same thing, in adifferent locationonMars.Theygot a firm

handshakeandahotcupofcoffeewhentheygothome.Ares3.Well,thatwasmymission.Okay,notmineperse.CommanderLewis

wasincharge.Iwasjustoneofhercrew.Actually,Iwastheverylowestrankedmemberofthecrew.Iwouldonlybe“incommand”ofthemissionifIweretheonlyremainingperson.Whatdoyouknow?I’mincommand.Iwonder if this logwillbe recoveredbefore the restof thecrewdieofold

age. Ipresumetheygotback toEarthall right.Guys, ifyou’re reading this: Itwasn’tyour fault.Youdidwhatyouhad todo. Inyourposition Iwouldhavedonethesamething.Idon’tblameyou,andI’mgladyousurvived.

IguessIshouldexplainhowMarsmissionswork,foranylaymanwhomaybereadingthis.WegottoEarthorbitthenormalway,throughanordinaryshiptoHermes.All theAresmissionsuseHermes toget toandfromMars.It’sreallybigandcostalotsoNASAbuiltonlyone.

Oncewegot toHermes, fouradditionalunmannedmissionsbroughtus fuelandsupplieswhilewepreparedforour trip.Onceeverythingwasago,wesetoutforMars.Butnotveryfast.Gonearethedaysofheavychemicalfuelburnsandtrans-Marsinjectionorbits.Hermesispoweredbyionengines.Theythrowargonoutthebackoftheship

reallyfasttogetatinyamountofacceleration.Thethingis,itdoesn’ttakemuchreactantmass, so a little argon (and a nuclear reactor to power things) let usaccelerateconstantlythewholewaythere.You’dbeamazedathowfastyoucangetgoingwithatinyaccelerationoveralongtime.Icouldregaleyouwithtalesofhowwehadgreatfunonthetrip,butIwon’t.I

don’t feel like reliving it rightnow.Suffice it to saywegot toMars124dayslaterwithoutstranglingeachother.From there, we took the MDV (Mars descent vehicle) to the surface. The

MDVisbasicallyabigcanwithsomelightthrustersandparachutesattached.ItssolepurposeistogetsixhumansfromMarsorbittothesurfacewithoutkillinganyofthem.AndnowwecometotherealtrickofMarsexploration:havingallofourshit

thereinadvance.A totalof fourteenunmannedmissionsdepositedeverythingwewouldneed

forsurfaceoperations.Theytriedtheirbesttolandallthesupplyvesselsinthesame general area, and did a reasonably good job. Supplies aren’t nearly sofragile ashumansandcanhit theground reallyhard.But they tend tobouncearoundalot.Naturally, they didn’t send us to Mars until they’d confirmed that all the

supplieshadmadeittothesurfaceandtheircontainersweren’tbreached.Starttofinish,includingsupplymissions,aMarsmissiontakesaboutthreeyears.Infact,therewereAres3suppliesenroutetoMarswhiletheAres2crewwereontheirwayhome.Themost importantpieceof theadvance supplies,ofcourse,was theMAV.

TheMars ascent vehicle. That was how we would get back toHermes aftersurfaceoperationswerecomplete.TheMAVwassoft-landed(asopposedtotheballoon bounce-fest the other supplies had). Of course, it was in constantcommunicationwithHouston, and if there had been any problemswith it,wewouldhavepassedbyMarsandgonehomewithouteverlanding.TheMAVisprettycool.Turnsout, throughaneatsetofchemical reactions

withtheMartianatmosphere,foreverykilogramofhydrogenyoubringtoMars,you canmake thirteen kilograms of fuel. It’s a slow process, though. It takes

twenty-fourmonths tofill the tank.That’swhytheysent it longbeforewegothere.You can imagine how disappointed Iwaswhen I discovered theMAVwas

gone.

Itwasaridiculoussequenceofeventsthatledtomealmostdying,andanevenmoreridiculoussequencethatledtomesurviving.Themissionisdesignedtohandlesandstormgustsupto150kph.SoHouston

gotunderstandablynervouswhenwegotwhackedwith175kphwinds.WeallgotinourflightspacesuitsandhuddledinthemiddleoftheHab,justincaseitlostpressure.ButtheHabwasn’ttheproblem.TheMAV is a spaceship. It has a lot of delicate parts. It can put up with

stormstoacertainextent,butitcan’tjustgetsandblastedforever.Afteranhourandahalfofsustainedwind,NASAgavetheordertoabort.Nobodywantedtostop amonthlongmission after only six days, but if theMAV took anymorepunishment,we’dallhavegottenstrandeddownthere.WehadtogooutinthestormtogetfromtheHabtotheMAV.Thatwasgoing

toberisky,butwhatchoicedidwehave?Everyonemadeitbutme.Our main communications dish, which relayed signals from the Hab to

Hermes,actedlikeaparachute,gettingtornfromitsfoundationandcarriedwiththetorrent.Alongtheway,itcrashedthroughthereceptionantennaarray.Thenoneof those long thinantennaeslammed intomeend-first. It tore throughmysuitlikeabulletthroughbutter,andIfelttheworstpainofmylifeasitrippedopenmyside.Ivaguelyrememberhavingthewindknockedoutofme(pulledout of me, really) and my ears popping painfully as the pressure of my suitescaped.The last thing I remember was seeing Johanssen hopelessly reaching out

towardme.

I awoke to the oxygen alarm in my suit. A steady, obnoxious beeping thateventuallyrousedmefromadeepandprofounddesiretojustfuckingdie.The storm had abated; Iwas facedown, almost totally buried in sand.As I

groggilycameto,IwonderedwhyIwasn’tmoredead.Theantennahadenoughforce topunch through thesuitandmyside,but it

hadbeen stoppedbymypelvis.So therewasonlyonehole in the suit (andaholeinme,ofcourse).Ihadbeenknockedbackquiteawaysandrolleddownasteephill.Somehow

Ilandedfacedown,whichforcedtheantennatoastronglyobliqueanglethatputalotoftorqueontheholeinthesuit.Itmadeaweakseal.Then, thecopiousbloodfrommywound trickleddown toward thehole.As

thebloodreachedthesiteofthebreach,thewaterinitquicklyevaporatedfromtheairflowandlowpressure,leavingagunkyresiduebehind.Morebloodcameinbehinditandwasalsoreducedtogunk.Eventually,itsealedthegapsaroundtheholeandreducedtheleaktosomethingthesuitcouldcounteract.The suit did its job admirably. Sensing the drop in pressure, it constantly

floodeditselfwithairfrommynitrogentanktoequalize.Oncetheleakbecamemanageable,itonlyhadtotricklenewairinslowlytorelievetheairlost.Afterawhile,theCO2(carbondioxide)absorbersinthesuitwereexpended.

That’s really the limiting factor to life support.Not theamountofoxygenyoubringwithyou,buttheamountofCO2youcanremove.IntheHab,Ihavetheoxygenator,alargepieceofequipmentthatbreaksapartCO2togivetheoxygenback. But the space suits have to be portable, so they use a simple chemicalabsorptionprocesswithexpendablefilters.I’dbeenasleeplongenoughthatmyfilterswereuseless.Thesuitsawthisproblemandmovedintoanemergencymodetheengineers

call“bloodletting.”HavingnowaytoseparateouttheCO2,thesuitdeliberatelyventedairtotheMartianatmosphere,thenbackfilledwithnitrogen.Betweenthebreachandthebloodletting,itquicklyranoutofnitrogen.Allithadleftwasmyoxygentank.So itdid theonly thing itcould tokeepmealive. It startedbackfillingwith

pureoxygen.Inowriskeddyingfromoxygentoxicity,as theexcessivelyhighamountofoxygenthreatenedtoburnupmynervoussystem,lungs,andeyes.Anironicdeathforsomeonewithaleakyspacesuit:toomuchoxygen.Everystepof thewaywouldhavehadbeepingalarms,alerts,andwarnings.

Butitwasthehigh-oxygenwarningthatwokeme.The sheer volumeof training for a spacemission is astounding. I’d spent a

weekbackonEarthpracticingemergencyspacesuitdrills.Iknewwhattodo.Carefullyreachingtothesideofmyhelmet,Igotthebreachkit.It’snothing

morethanafunnelwithavalveatthesmallendandanunbelievablystickyresinonthewideend.Theideaisyouhavethevalveopenandstickthewideendoverahole.Theaircanescapethroughthevalve,soitdoesn’tinterferewiththeresinmakingagoodseal.Thenyouclosethevalve,andyou’vesealedthebreach.Thetrickypartwasgettingtheantennaoutoftheway.Ipulleditoutasfastas

Icould,wincingasthesuddenpressuredropdizziedmeandmadethewoundin

mysidescreaminagony.Igotthebreachkitovertheholeandsealedit.Itheld.Thesuitbackfilledthe

missingairwithyetmoreoxygen.Checkingmyarmreadouts,Isawthesuitwasnowat85percentoxygen.Forreference,Earth’satmosphereisabout21percent.I’dbeokay,solongasIdidn’tspendtoomuchtimelikethat.I stumbled up the hill back toward the Hab. As I crested the rise, I saw

somethingthatmademeveryhappyandsomethingthatmademeverysad:TheHabwasintact(yay!)andtheMAVwasgone(boo!).RightthatmomentIknewIwasscrewed.ButIdidn’twanttojustdieouton

thesurface.I limpedbacktotheHabandfumbledmywayintoanairlock.Assoonasitequalized,Ithrewoffmyhelmet.OnceinsidetheHab,Idoffedthesuitandgotmyfirstgoodlookattheinjury.

Itwouldneedstitches.Fortunately,allofushadbeen trained inbasicmedicalprocedures, and theHabhad excellentmedical supplies.Aquick shotof localanesthetic, irrigate the wound, nine stitches, and I was done. I’d be takingantibioticsforacoupleofweeks,butotherthanthatI’dbefine.I knew itwas hopeless, but I tried firing up the communications array.No

signal,ofcourse.Theprimarysatellitedishhadbrokenoff, remember?And ittook the reception antennae with it. The Hab had secondary and tertiarycommunicationssystems,buttheywerebothjustfortalkingtotheMAV,whichwould use itsmuchmore powerful systems to relay toHermes. Thing is, thatonlyworksiftheMAVisstillaround.I had noway to talk toHermes. In time, I could locate the dish out on the

surface,butitwouldtakeweeksformetorigupanyrepairs,andthatwouldbetoo late. In an abort,Hermeswould leave orbitwithin twenty-four hours.Theorbital dynamics made the trip safer and shorter the earlier you left, so whywait?Checkingoutmysuit,Isawtheantennahadplowedthroughmybio-monitor

computer.Whenon anEVA, all the crew’s suits arenetworked sowecan seeeachother’sstatus.Therestofthecrewwouldhaveseenthepressureinmysuitdrop to nearly zero, followed immediately bymybio-signs going flat.Add tothatwatchingmetumbledownahillwithaspearthroughmeinthemiddleofasandstorm…yeah.TheythoughtIwasdead.Howcouldtheynot?Theymay have even had a brief discussion about recoveringmy body, but

regulations are clear. In the event a crewmandiesonMars, he staysonMars.Leaving his body behind reduces weight for theMAV on the trip back. Thatmeansmoredisposablefuelandalargermarginoferrorforthereturnthrust.No

pointingivingthatupforsentimentality.

So that’s the situation. I’m stranded onMars. I have noway to communicatewithHermesorEarth.EveryonethinksI’mdead.I’minaHabdesignedtolastthirty-onedays.If the oxygenator breaks down, I’ll suffocate. If thewater reclaimer breaks

down,I’lldieofthirst.IftheHabbreaches,I’lljustkindofexplode.Ifnoneofthosethingshappen,I’lleventuallyrunoutoffoodandstarvetodeath.Soyeah.I’mfucked.

CHAPTER2

LOGENTRY:SOL7

Okay,I’vehadagoodnight’ssleep,andthingsdon’tseemashopelessastheydidyesterday.Today I took stock of supplies and did a quick EVA to check up on the

externalequipment.Here’smysituation:Thesurfacemissionwassupposedtobethirty-onedays.Forredundancy,the

supplyprobeshadenoughfoodtolastthewholecrewfifty-sixdays.Thatwayifoneor twoprobeshadproblems,we’d still have enough food to complete themission.Weweresixdaysinwhenallhellbrokeloose,sothatleavesenoughfoodto

feed six people for fifty days. I’m just one guy, so it’ll lastme three hundreddays.Andthat’sifIdon’trationit.SoI’vegotafairbitoftime.I’mprettyflushonEVAsuits,too.Eachcrewmemberhadtwospacesuits:a

flight spacesuit to wear during descent and ascent, and themuch bulkier andmore robust EVA suit to wear when doing surface operations. My flightspacesuit has a hole in it, and of course the crewwaswearing the other fivewhentheyreturnedtoHermes.ButallsixEVAsuitsarestillhereandinperfectcondition.TheHabstooduptothestormwithoutanyproblems.Outside,thingsaren’tso

rosy.Ican’tfindthesatellitedish.Itprobablygotblownkilometersaway.TheMAVisgone,ofcourse.MycrewmatestookituptoHermes.Thoughthe

bottomhalf(thelandingstage)isstillhere.Noreasontotakethatbackupwhenweight is the enemy. It includes the landing gear, the fuel plant, and anythingelseNASAfigureditwouldn’tneedforthetripbackuptoorbit.TheMDVisonitssideandthere’sabreachinthehull.Lookslikethestorm

ripped the cowling off the reserve chute (which we didn’t have to use onlanding).Once thechutewasexposed, itdragged theMDVallover theplace,smashingitagainsteveryrockinthearea.NotthattheMDVwouldbemuchuseto me. Its thrusters can’t even lift its own weight. But it might have beenvaluableforparts.Mightstillbe.Bothroversarehalf-buriedinsand,butthey’reingoodshapeotherwise.Their

pressuresealsareintact.Makessense.Operatingprocedurewhenastormhitsisto stop motion and wait for the storm to pass. They’re made to stand up topunishment.I’llbeabletodigthemoutwithadayorsoofwork.I’ve lost communicationwith theweather stations, placed a kilometer away

fromtheHabinfourdirections.TheymightbeinperfectworkingorderforallIknow.TheHab’scommunicationsaresoweakrightnowitprobablycan’tevenreachakilometer.Thesolarcellarraywascoveredinsand,renderingituseless(hint:solarcells

needsunlighttomakeelectricity).ButonceIsweptthecellsoff,theyreturnedtofull efficiency.Whatever I endupdoing, I’llhaveplentyofpower for it.Twohundredsquaremetersofsolarcells,withhydrogenfuelcellstostoreplentyofreserve.AllIneedtodoissweepthemoffeveryfewdays.Thingsindoorsaregreat,thankstotheHab’ssturdydesign.Iranafulldiagnosticontheoxygenator.Twice.It’sperfect.Ifanythinggoes

wrongwithit,there’sashort-termspareIcanuse.Butit’ssolelyforemergencyusewhilerepairingthemainone.Thesparedoesn’tactuallypullCO2apartandrecapture theoxygen.It justabsorbs theCO2 thesameway thespacesuitsdo.It’s intended to last fivedaysbefore it saturates the filters,whichmeans thirtydaysforme(justonepersonbreathing,insteadofsix).Sothere’ssomeinsurancethere.Thewaterreclaimerisworkingfine,too.Thebadnewsisthere’snobackup.

If it stops working, I’ll be drinking reserve water while I rig up a primitivedistillerytoboilpiss.Also,I’lllosehalfaliterofwaterperdaytobreathinguntilthe humidity in theHab reaches itsmaximum andwater starts condensing oneverysurface.ThenI’llbelickingthewalls.Yay.Anyway,fornow,noproblemswiththewaterreclaimer.So yeah. Food,water, shelter all taken care of. I’m going to start rationing

foodrightnow.Mealsareprettyminimalalready,butI thinkIcaneatathree-fourthsportionpermealandstillbeallright.Thatshouldturnmythreehundreddaysof food into fourhundred.Foragingaround themedicalarea, I found themainbottleofvitamins.There’senoughmultivitamins there to lastyears.So Iwon’thaveanynutritionalproblems(thoughI’ll still starve todeathwhenI’moutoffood,nomatterhowmanyvitaminsItake).Themedicalareahasmorphineforemergencies.Andthere’senoughtherefor

alethaldose.I’mnotgoingtoslowlystarvetodeath,I’lltellyouthat.IfIgettothatpoint,I’lltakeaneasierwayout.Everyoneon themissionhad twospecialties. I’mabotanistandmechanical

engineer; basically, the mission’s fix-it man who played with plants. Themechanicalengineeringmightsavemylifeifsomethingbreaks.I’ve been thinking about how to survive this. It’s not completely hopeless.

There’ll be humans back on Mars in about four years when Ares 4 arrives

(assumingtheydidn’tcanceltheprograminthewakeofmy“death”).Ares 4 will be landing at the Schiaparelli crater, which is about 3200

kilometersawayfrommylocationhere inAcidaliaPlanitia.Nowayformetogetthereonmyown.ButifIcouldcommunicate,Imightbeabletogetarescue.Notsurehowthey’dmanagethatwiththeresourcesonhand,butNASAhasalotofsmartpeople.Sothat’smymissionnow.FindawaytocommunicatewithEarth.IfIcan’t

manage that, find away to communicatewithHermeswhen it returns in fouryearswiththeAres4crew.Ofcourse,Idon’thaveanyplanforsurvivingfouryearsononeyearoffood.

Butonethingatatimehere.Fornow,I’mwellfedandhaveapurpose:Fixthedamnradio.

LOGENTRY:SOL10

Well,I’vedonethreeEVAsandhaven’tfoundanyhintof thecommunicationsdish.I dug out one of the rovers and had a good drive around, but after days of

wandering, I think it’s time to give up. The storm probably blew the dish faraway and then erased any drag-marks or scuffs thatmight have led to a trail.Probablyburiedit,too.Ispentmostoftodayoutatwhat’sleftofthecommunicationsarray.It’sreally

asorrysight.ImayaswellyelltowardEarthforallthegoodthatdamnedthingwilldome.IcouldthrowtogetherarudimentarydishoutofmetalIfindaroundthebase,

but this isn’t somewalkie-talkie I’mworkingwithhere.Communicating fromMarstoEarthisaprettybigdeal,andrequiresextremelyspecializedequipment.Iwon’tbeabletowhipsomethingupwithtinfoilandgum.IneedtorationmyEVAsaswellasfood.TheCO2 filtersarenotcleanable.

Once they’re saturated, they’re done. The mission accounted for a four-hourEVApercrewmemberperday.Fortunately,CO2 filtersare lightandsmall, soNASAhad the luxuryof sendingmore thanweneeded.All told, Ihaveabout1500 hours’ worth of CO2 filters. After that, any EVAs I do will have to bemanagedwithbloodlettingtheair.Fifteenhundredhoursmay sound like a lot, but I’m facedwith spendingat

leastfouryearshereifI’mgoingtohaveanyhopeofrescue,withaminimumofseveralhoursperweekdedicated to sweepingoff thesolararray.Anyway.NoneedlessEVAs.

In other news, I’m starting to come up with an idea for food. My botanybackgroundmaycomeinusefulafterall.Whybringabotanist toMars?Afterall, it’sfamousfornothavinganything

growingthere.Well,theideawastofigureouthowwellthingsgrowinMartiangravity,andseewhat,ifanything,wecandowithMartiansoil.Theshortansweris: quite a lot…almost.Martian soil has the basic building blocks needed forplant growth, but there’s a lot of stuff going on in Earth soil that Mars soildoesn’thave,evenwhenit’splacedinanEarthatmosphereandgivenplentyofwater.Bacterialactivity,certainnutrientsprovidedbyanimal life,etc.Noneofthat is happening onMars. One of my tasks for themission was to see howplants grow here, in various combinations of Earth and Mars soil and

atmosphere.That’swhy I have a small amount ofEarth soil and a bunchof plant seeds

withme.Ican’tget tooexcited,however.It’sabouttheamountofsoilyou’dputina

window box, and the only seeds I have are a few species of grass and ferns.They’re themost rugged and easily grown plants on Earth, so NASA pickedthemasthetestsubjects.SoIhavetwoproblems:notenoughdirt,andnothingedibletoplantinit.But I’m a botanist, damn it. I should be able to find a way to make this

happen.IfIdon’t,I’llbeareallyhungrybotanistinaboutayear.

LOGENTRY:SOL11

IwonderhowtheCubsaredoing.

LOGENTRY:SOL14

I gotmyundergrad degree at theUniversity ofChicago.Half the peoplewhostudied botany were hippies who thought they could return to some naturalworld system. Somehow feeding seven billion people through pure gathering.Theyspentmostoftheirtimeworkingoutbetterwaystogrowpot.Ididn’tlikethem. I’ve always been in it for the science, not for any New World Orderbullshit.When theymade compost heaps and tried to conserve every little ounce of

livingmatter,Ilaughedatthem.“Lookatthesillyhippies!Lookattheirpatheticattemptstosimulateacomplexglobalecosystemintheirbackyard.”Ofcourse,nowI’mdoingexactlythat.I’msavingeveryscrapofbiomatterI

canfind.EverytimeIfinishameal,theleftoversgotothecompostbucket.Asforotherbiologicalmaterial…The Hab has sophisticated toilets. Shit is usually vaccum-dried, then

accumulatedinsealedbagstobediscardedonthesurface.Notanymore!Infact,IevendidanEVAtorecoverthepreviousbagsofshitfrombeforethe

crewleft.Beingcompletelydesiccated,thisparticularshitdidn’thavebacteriainitanymore,butitstillhadcomplexproteinsandwouldserveasusefulmanure.Addingittowaterandactivebacteriawouldquicklygetitinundated,replacinganypopulationkilledbytheToiletofDoom.Ifoundabigcontainerandputabitofwaterinit,thenaddedthedriedshit.

Sincethen,I’veaddedmyownshittoitaswell.Theworseitsmells,thebetterthingsaregoing.That’sthebacteriaatwork!OnceIgetsomeMartiansoilinhere,Icanmixintheshitandspreaditout.

ThenIcansprinkletheEarthsoilontop.Youmightnotthinkthatwouldbeanimportantstep,butit is.TherearedozensofspeciesofbacterialivinginEarthsoil, and they’re critical to plant growth. They’ll spread out and breed like…well,likeabacterialinfection.Peoplehavebeenusinghumanwasteasfertilizerforcenturies.It’sevengota

pleasant name: “night soil.” Normally, it’s not an ideal way to grow crops,becauseitspreadsdisease:Humanwastehaspathogensinitthat,youguessedit,infecthumans.Butit’snotaproblemforme.TheonlypathogensinthiswastearetheonesIalreadyhave.Withinaweek,theMartiansoilwillbereadyforplantstogerminatein.ButI

won’tplantyet.I’llbringinmorelifelesssoilfromoutsideandspreadsomeofthelivesoiloverit.It’ll“infect”thenewsoilandI’llhavedoublewhatIstartedwith. After another week, I’ll double it again. And so on. Of course, all thewhile,I’llbeaddingallnewmanuretotheeffort.Myassholeisdoingasmuchtokeepmealiveasmybrain.Thisisn’tanewconceptIjustcameupwith.Peoplehavespeculatedonhow

tomakecropsoiloutofMartiandirtfordecades.I’lljustbeputtingittothetestforthefirsttime.I searched through the foodsuppliesand foundall sortsof things that I can

plant.Peas, for instance.Plentyofbeans, too. Ialso foundseveralpotatoes. Ifanyofthemcanstillgerminateaftertheirordeal,that’llbegreat.Withanearlyinfinitesupplyofvitamins,allIneedarecaloriesofanykindtosurvive.ThetotalfloorspaceoftheHabisabout92squaremeters.Iplantodedicate

allofittothisendeavor.Idon’tmindwalkingondirt.It’llbealotofwork,butI’mgoing to need to cover the entire floor to a depth of 10 centimeters.ThatmeansI’llhavetotransport9.2cubicmetersofMartiansoilintotheHab.Icangetmaybeone-tenthofacubicmeterinthroughtheairlockatatime,andit’llbebackbreakingwork tocollect it.But in theend, ifeverythinggoes toplan, I’llhave92squaremetersofcrop-ablesoil.HellyeahI’mabotanist!Fearmybotanypowers!

LOGENTRY:SOL15

Ugh!Thisisbackbreakingwork!IspenttwelvehourstodayonEVAstobringdirtintotheHab.Ionlymanaged

tocoverasmallcornerof thebase,maybefivesquaremeters.At thisrate it’lltakemeweekstogetallthesoilin.Buthey,timeisonethingI’vegot.The first few EVAswere pretty inefficient;me filling small containers and

bringing them in through the airlock. Then I got wise and just put one bigcontainerintheairlockitselfandfilledthatwithsmallcontainerstillitwasfull.That sped things up a lot because the airlock takes about ten minutes to getthrough.Iacheallover.AndtheshovelsIhavearemadefortakingsamples,notheavy

digging.My back is killing me. I foraged in the medical supplies and foundsomeVicodin.Itookitabouttenminutesago.Shouldbekickinginsoon.Anyway,it’snicetoseeprogress.Timetostartgettingthebacteriatoworkon

these minerals. After lunch. No three-fourths ration today. I’ve earned a fullmeal.

LOGENTRY:SOL16

OnecomplicationIhadn’tthoughtof:water.TurnsoutbeingonthesurfaceofMarsforafewmillionyearseliminatesall

thewaterinthesoil.Mymaster’sdegreeinbotanymakesmeprettysureplantsneedwetdirttogrowin.Nottomentionthebacteriathathastoliveinthedirtfirst.Fortunately,Ihavewater.ButnotasmuchasIwant.Tobeviable,soilneeds

40litersofwaterpercubicmeter.Myoverallplancallsfor9.2cubicmetersofsoil.SoI’lleventuallyneed368litersofwatertofeedit.TheHabhasanexcellentwaterreclaimer.BesttechnologyavailableonEarth.

SoNASAfigured,“Whysendalotofwaterupthere?Justsendenoughforanemergency.”Humansneedthreelitersofwaterperdaytobecomfortable.Theygaveus50literseach,making300literstotalintheHab.I’mwillingtodedicateallbutanemergency50literstothecause.Thatmeans

Icanfeed62.5squaremetersatadepthof10centimeters.Abouttwo-thirdsoftheHab’s floor. It’llhave todo.That’s the long-termplan.For today,mygoalwasfivesquaremeters.Iwaddedupblanketsanduniformsfrommydepartedcrewmatestoserveas

oneedgeofaplanterboxwiththecurvedwallsoftheHabbeingtherestoftheperimeter.ItwasasclosetofivesquaremetersasIcouldmanage.Ifilleditwithsandtoadepthof10centimeters.ThenIsacrificed20litersofpreciouswatertothedirtgods.Then thingsgot disgusting. I dumpedmybig container o’ shit onto the soil

and nearly puked from the smell. I mixed this soil and shit together with ashovel,andspreaditoutevenlyagain.ThenIsprinkledtheEarthsoilontop.Gettowork,bacteria.I’mcountingonyou.Thatsmell’sgoingtostickaroundforawhile,too.It’snotlikeIcanopenawindow.Still,yougetusedtoit.Inothernews,todayisThanksgiving.MyfamilywillbegatheringinChicago

fortheusualfeastatmyparents’house.Myguessisitwon’tbemuchfun,whatwithmehavingdied ten days ago.Hell, they probably just got donewithmyfuneral.I wonder if they’ll ever find out what really happened. I’ve been so busy

staying alive I never thought ofwhat thismust be like formy parents. Rightnow,they’resufferingtheworstpainanyonecanendure.I’dgiveanythingjusttoletthemknowI’mstillalive.

I’lljusthavetosurvivetomakeupforit.

LOGENTRY:SOL22

Wow.Thingsreallycamealong.Igotallthesandinandreadytogo.Two-thirdsofthebaseisnowdirt.And

todayIexecutedmyfirstdirt-doubling.It’sbeenaweek,andtheformerMartiansoil is rich and lovely. Two more doublings and I’ll have covered the wholefield.Allthatworkwasgreatformymorale.Itgavemesomethingtodo.Butafter

thingssettleddownabit,andIhaddinnerwhilelisteningtoJohanssen’sBeatlesmusiccollection,Igotdepressedagain.Doingthemath,thiswon’tkeepmefromstarving.Mybestbetformakingcaloriesispotatoes.Theygrowprolificallyandhavea

reasonablecaloriccontent(770caloriesperkilogram).I’mprettysuretheonesIhave will germinate. Problem is I can’t grow enough of them. In 62 squaremeters, Icouldgrowmaybe150kilogramsofpotatoes in400days(the timeIhave before running out of food). That’s a grand total of 115,500 calories, asustainableaverageof288caloriesperday.Withmyheightandweight, ifI’mwillingtostarvealittle,Ineed1500caloriesperday.Notevenclose.SoIcan’tjustliveoffthelandforever.ButIcanextendmylife.Thepotatoes

willlastme76days.Potatoes grow continually, so in those 76 days, I can grow another 22,000

caloriesofpotatoes,whichwilltidemeoverforanother15days.Afterthat,it’skindofpointlesstocontinuethetrend.Alltolditbuysmeabout90days.SonowI’llstartstarvingtodeathonSol490insteadofSol400.It’sprogress,

butanyhopeofsurvivalrestsonmesurvivinguntilSol1412,whenAres4willland.There’saboutathousanddaysoffoodIdon’thave.AndIdon’thaveaplan

forhowtogetit.Shit.

CHAPTER3

LOGENTRY:SOL25

Remember thoseoldmathquestionsyouhad inalgebraclass?Wherewater isenteringacontaineratacertainrateandleavingatadifferentrateandyouneedto figure out when it’ll be empty?Well, that concept is critical to the “MarkWatneydoesn’tdie”projectI’mworkingon.Ineedtocreatecalories.AndIneedenoughtolastthe1387solsuntilAres4

arrives.IfIdon’tgetrescuedbyAres4,I’mdeadanyway.Asolis39minuteslongerthanaday,soitworksouttobe1425days.That’smytarget:1425daysoffood.I have plenty of multivitamins; over double what I need. And there’s five

times theminimumprotein in each foodpack, so careful rationingofportionstakes care ofmyprotein needs for at least four years.Mygeneral nutrition istakencareof.Ijustneedcalories.Ineed1500calorieseveryday.Ihave400daysoffoodtostartoffwith.So

howmanycaloriesdoIneedtogenerateperdayalongtheentiretimeperiodtostayaliveforaround1425days?I’ll spare you the math. The answer is about 1100. I need to create 1100

calories per day with my farming efforts to survive until Ares 4 gets here.Actually, a little more than that, because it’s Sol 25 right now and I haven’tactuallyplantedanythingyet.With my 62 square meters of farmland, I’ll be able to create about 288

calories per day. So I need almost four timesmy current plan’s production tosurvive.ThatmeansIneedmoresurfaceareaforfarming,andmorewatertohydrate

thesoil.Solet’staketheproblemsoneatatime.HowmuchfarmlandcanIreallymake?Thereare92squaremetersintheHab.Let’ssayIcouldmakeuseofallofit.Also,therearefiveunusedbunks.Let’ssayIputsoilinonthem,too.They’re

2squaremeterseach,givingme10moresquaremeters.Sowe’reupto102.TheHabhasthreelabtables,eachabout2squaremeters.Iwanttokeepone

for my own use, leaving two for the cause. That’s another 4 square meters,bringingthetotalto106.IhavetwoMartianrovers.Theyhavepressureseals,allowingtheoccupants

todrivewithoutspacesuitsduringlongperiodstraversingthesurface.They’retoo cramped to plant crops in, and I want to be able to drive them around

anyway.Butbothrovershaveanemergencypop-tent.Therearealotofproblemswithusingpop-tentsasfarmland,buttheyhave10

squaremetersoffloorspaceeach.PresumingIcanovercometheproblems,theynetmeanother20squaremeters,bringingmyfarmlandupto126.Onehundredandtwenty-sixsquaremetersoffarmableland.That’ssomething

toworkwith.Istilldon’thavethewatertomoistenallthatsoil,butlikeIsaid,onethingatatime.The next thing to consider is how efficient I can be in growing potatoes. I

basedmycropyieldestimatesonthepotatoindustrybackonEarth.Butpotatofarmersaren’tinadesperateraceforsurvivallikeIam.CanIgetabetteryield?Forstarters,Icangiveattentiontoeachindividualplant.Icantrimthemand

keepthemhealthyandnot interferingwitheachother.Also,as their floweringbodiesbreachthesurface,Icanreplant themdeeper, thenplantyoungerplantsabove them. For normal potato farmers, it’s not worth doing because they’reworkingwithliterallymillionsofpotatoplants.Also,thissortoffarmingannihilatesthesoil.Anyfarmerdoingitwouldturn

their land into a dust bowlwithin twelve years. It’s not sustainable. Butwhocares?Ijustneedtosurviveforfouryears.IestimateIcanget50percenthigheryieldbyusing these tactics.Andwith

the126squaremetersoffarmland(justoverdoublethe62squaremetersInowhave)itworksouttobeover850caloriesperday.That’srealprogress.I’dstillbeindangerofstarvation,butitgetsmeinthe

range of survival. Imight be able tomake it by nearly starving but not quitedying.Icouldreducemycaloricusebyminimizingmanuallabor.IcouldsetthetemperatureoftheHabhigherthannormal,meaningmybodywouldexpendlessenergy keeping its temperature. I could cut off an arm and eat it, gainingmevaluablecaloriesandreducingmyoverallcaloricneed.No,notreally.Solet’ssayIcouldclearupthatmuchfarmland.Seemsreasonable.Wheredo

I get the water? To go from 62 to 126 square meters of farmland at 10centimeters deep, I’ll need 6.4 more cubic meters of soil (more shoveling,whee!)andthat’llneedover250litersofwater.The50 liters Ihave is forme todrink if thewater reclaimerbreaks.SoI’m

250litersshortofmy250-litergoal.Bleh.I’mgoingtobed.

LOGENTRY:SOL26

Itwasabackbreakingyetproductiveday.Iwas sick of thinking, so instead of trying to figure outwhere I’ll get 250

litersofwater,Ididsomemanuallabor.IneedtogetawholeassloadmoresoilintotheHab,evenifitisdryanduselessrightnow.Igotacubicmeterinbeforegettingexhausted.Then, a minor dust storm dropped by for an hour and covered the solar

collectorswithcrap.SoIhadtosuitupagainanddoanotherEVA.Iwasinapissymoodthewholetime.Sweepingoffahugefieldofsolarcellsisboringandphysicallydemanding.Butoncethejobwasdone,IcamebacktomyLittleHabonthePrairie.Itwasabouttimeforanotherdirt-doubling,soIfiguredImightaswellgetit

overwith. It took an hour.Onemore doubling and the usable soilwill all begoodtogo.Also,Ifigureditwastimetostartupaseedcrop.I’ddoubledthesoilenough

that I could afford to leave a little cornerof it alone. I had twelvepotatoes toworkwith.Iamone luckysonofabitch theyaren’t freeze-driedormulched.Whydid

NASAsendtwelvewholepotatoes, refrigeratedbutnotfrozen?Andwhysendthemalongwithusasin-pressurecargoratherthaninacratewiththerestoftheHabsupplies?BecauseThanksgivingwasgoingtohappenwhileweweredoingsurfaceoperations,andNASA’sshrinksthoughtitwouldbegoodforustomakeameal together.Not just to eat it, but to actually prepare it. There’s probablysomelogictothat,butwhocares?I cut each potato into four pieces,making sure each piece had at least two

eyes. The eyes are where they sprout from. I let them sit for a few hours tohardenabit,thenplantedthem,wellspacedapart,inthecorner.Godspeed,littletaters.Mylifedependsonyou.Normally,ittakesatleast90daystoyieldfull-sizedpotatoes.ButIcan’twait

thatlong.I’llneedtocutupallthepotatoesfromthiscroptoseedtherestofthefield.BysettingtheHabtemperaturetoabalmy25.5°C,Icanmaketheplantsgrow

faster.Also, the internal lightswillprovideplentyof“sunlight,”and I’llmakesuretheygetlotsofwater(onceIfigureoutwheretogetwater).Therewillbenofoulweather,oranyparasitestohasslethem,oranyweedstocompetewith

for soil or nutrients. With all this going for them, they should yield healthy,sproutabletuberswithinfortydays.IfiguredthatwasenoughbeingFarmerMarkforoneday.Afullmealfordinner.I’dearnedit.Plus,I’dburnedatonofcalories,andI

wantedthemback.

IrifledthroughCommanderLewis’sstuffuntilIfoundherpersonaldata-stick.Everyone got to bring whatever digital entertainment they wanted, and I wastiredoflisteningtoJohanssen’sBeatlesalbumsfornow.TimetoseewhatLewishad.CrappyTVshows.That’swhat shehad.Countless entire runsofTVshows

fromforeverago.Well.Beggarscan’tbechoosers.Three’sCompanyitis.

LOGENTRY:SOL29

Overthelastfewdays,IgotinallthedirtthatI’llneed.Ipreppedthetablesandbunksforholdingtheweightofsoil,andevenputthedirtinplace.There’sstillnowatertomakeitviable,butIhavesomeideas.Reallybadideas,butthey’reideas.Today’sbigaccomplishmentwassettingupthepop-tents.Theproblemwiththerovers’pop-tentsistheyweren’tdesignedforfrequent

use.The idea was you’d throw out a pop-tent, get in, and wait for rescue. The

airlock is nothingmore than valves and two doors. Equalize the airlock withyoursideofit,getin,equalizewiththeotherside,getout.Thismeansyoulosealotofairwitheachuse.AndI’llneedtogetinthereatleastonceaday.Thetotalvolumeofeachpop-tentisprettylow,soIcan’taffordtoloseairfromit.I spenthours trying to figureout how to attach apop-tent airlock to aHab

airlock.IhavethreeairlocksintheHab.I’dbewillingtodedicatetwotopop-tents.Thatwouldhavebeenawesome.The frustrating part is pop-tent airlocks can attach to other airlocks! You

mighthave injuredpeople in there,ornot enough space suits.Youneed tobeabletogetpeopleoutwithoutexposingthemtotheMartianatmosphere.Butthepop-tentsweredesignedforyourcrewmatestocomerescueyouina

rover.TheairlocksontheHabaremuchlargerandcompletelydifferentfromtheairlocksontherovers.Whenyouthinkaboutit,there’sreallynoreasontoattachapop-tenttotheHab.Unlessyou’restrandedonMars,everyonethinksyou’redead,andyou’reina

desperatefightagainsttimeandtheelementstostayalive.But,youknow,otherthanthatedgecase,there’snoreason.SoIfinallydecidedI’djust takethehit. I’llbelosingsomeaireverytimeI

enterorexitapop-tent.Thegoodnewsiseachpop-tenthasanairfeedvalveontheoutside.Remember,theseareemergencyshelters.Theoccupantsmightneedair,andyoucanprovideitfromaroverbyhookingupanair line.It’snothingmorethanatubethatequalizestherover’sairwiththepop-tent’s.TheHabandtheroversusethesamevalveandtubingstandards,soIwasable

toattachthepop-tentsdirectlytotheHab.That’llautomaticallyreplenishtheairIlosewithmyentriesandexits(whatweNASAfolkcallingressandegress).NASAwasnot screwing aroundwith these emergency tents.Themoment I

pushed the panic button in the rover, therewas an ear-poppingwhoosh as thepop-tentfiredout,attachedtotheroverairlock.Ittookabouttwoseconds.Iclosedtheairlockfromtheroversideandendedupwithanice,isolatedpop-

tent.Settinguptheequalizerhosewastrivial(foronceI’musingequipmentthewayitwasdesignedtobeused).Then,afterafewtripsthroughtheairlock(withtheair-lossautomaticallyequalizedbytheHab)Igotthedirtin.Irepeatedtheprocessfortheothertent.Everythingwentreallyeasily.Sigh…water.Inhighschool,IplayedalotofDungeonsandDragons.(Youmaynothave

guessedthisbotanist/mechanicalengineerwasabitofanerdinhighschool,butindeedIwas.)InthegameIplayedacleric.OneofthemagicspellsIcouldcastwas “CreateWater.” I always thought itwas a really stupid spell, and I neverusedit.Boy,whatIwouldn’tgivetobeabletodothatinrealliferightnow.Anyway.That’saproblemfortomorrow.Fortonight,IhavetogetbacktoThree’sCompany.Istoppedlastnightinthe

middleoftheepisodewhereMr.Ropersawsomethingandtookitoutofcontext.

LOGENTRY:SOL30

IhaveanidioticallydangerousplanforgettingthewaterIneed.Andboy,doImeandangerous.ButIdon’thavemuchchoice.I’moutofideasandI’mdueforanother dirt-doubling in a few days. When I do the final doubling, I’ll bedoublingontoallthatnewsoilI’vebroughtin.IfIdon’twetitfirst,it’lljustdie.There isn’ta lotofwaterhereonMars.There’s iceat thepoles,but they’re

too far away. If Iwantwater, I’ll have tomake it from scratch.Fortunately, Iknowtherecipe:Takehydrogen.Addoxygen.Burn.Let’stakethemoneatatime.I’llstartwithoxygen.Ihavea fairbitofO2 reserves,butnot enough tomake250 litersofwater.

Twohigh-pressuretanksatoneendoftheHabaremyentiresupply(plustheairintheHabofcourse).Theyeachcontain25litersofliquidO2.TheHabwouldusethemonlyinanemergency;ithastheoxygenatortobalancetheatmosphere.ThereasontheO2tanksarehereistofeedthespacesuitsandrovers.Anyway, the reserve oxygen would only be enough to make 100 liters of

water(50litersofO2makes100litersofmoleculesthatonlyhaveoneOeach).ThatwouldmeannoEVAs forme, andno emergency reserves.And itwouldmakelessthanhalfthewaterIneed.Outofthequestion.Butoxygen’seasiertofindonMarsthanyoumightthink.Theatmosphereis

95 percent CO2. And I happen to have a machine whose sole purpose isliberatingoxygenfromCO2.Yay,oxygenator!Oneproblem:Theatmosphereisverythin—lessthan1percentofthepressure

on Earth. So it’s hard to collect. Getting air from outside to inside is nearlyimpossible. The whole purpose of the Hab is to keep that sort of thing fromhappening. The tiny amount ofMartian atmosphere that enterswhen I use anairlockislaughable.That’swheretheMAVfuelplantcomesin.My crewmates took away the MAV weeks ago. But the bottom half of it

stayedbehind.NASAisn’t in thehabitofputtingunnecessarymass intoorbit.Thelandinggear,ingressramp,andfuelplantarestillhere.RememberhowtheMAVmadeitsownfuelwithhelpfromtheMartianatmosphere?SteponeofthatistocollectCO2andstoreitinahigh-pressurevessel.OnceIgetthefuelplanthookeduptotheHab’spower,it’llgivemehalfaliterofliquidCO2perhour,indefinitely.After ten sols it’ll havemade125 liters ofCO2,whichwillmake

125litersofO2afterIfeeditthroughtheoxygenator.That’senoughtomake250litersofwater.SoIhaveaplanforoxygen.Thehydrogenwillbealittletrickier.I considered raiding the hydrogen fuel cells, but I need those batteries to

maintainpoweratnight.IfIdon’thavethat,it’llgettoocold.Icouldbundleup,butthecoldwouldkillmycrops.AndeachfuelcellhasonlyasmallamountofH2anyway.It’s justnotworthsacrificingsomuchusefulnessforso littlegain.TheonethingIhavegoingformeisthatenergyisnotaproblem.Idon’twanttogivethatup.SoI’llhavetogoadifferentroute.IoftentalkabouttheMAV.ButnowIwanttotalkabouttheMDV.During the most terrifying twenty-three minutes of my life, four of my

crewmates and I tried not to shit ourselves whileMartinez piloted theMDVdowntothesurface.Itwaskindoflikebeinginatumble-dryer.First,wedescendedfromHermes,anddeceleratedourorbitalvelocitysowe

couldstartfallingproperly.Everythingwassmoothuntilwehittheatmosphere.Ifyou think turbulence is roughina jetlinergoing720kph, just imaginewhatit’slikeat28,000kph.Severalstagedsetsofchutesdeployedautomaticallytoslowourdescent,then

Martinezmanuallypilotedustotheground,usingthethrusterstoslowdescentandcontrolourlateralmotion.He’dtrainedforthisforyears,andhedidhisjobextraordinarilywell.Heexceededallplausibleexpectationsoflandings,puttingusjustninemetersfromthetarget.Theguyjustplainownedthatlanding.Thanks,Martinez!Youmayhavesavedmylife!Notbecauseoftheperfect landing,butbecauseheleftsomuchfuelbehind.

Hundreds of liters of unused hydrazine. Eachmolecule of hydrazine has fourhydrogenatoms in it.So each literofhydrazinehas enoughhydrogen for twolitersofwater.IdidalittleEVAtodaytocheck.TheMDVhas292litersofjuiceleftinthe

tanks.Enoughtomakealmost600litersofwater!WaymorethanIneed!There’s just one catch: Liberating hydrogen from hydrazine is…well…it’s

howrocketswork.It’sreally,reallyhot.Anddangerous.IfIdoitinanoxygenatmosphere,thehotandnewlyliberatedhydrogenwillexplode.There’llbealotofH2Oattheend,butI’llbetoodeadtoappreciateit.At its root, hydrazine is pretty simple. TheGermans used it as far back as

WorldWarIIforrocket-assistedfighterfuel(andoccasionallyblewthemselves

upwithit).Allyouhavetodoisrunitoveracatalyst(whichIcanextractfromtheMDV

engine)anditwillturnintonitrogenandhydrogen.I’llspareyouthechemistry,buttheendresultisthatfivemoleculesofhydrazinebecomesfivemoleculesofharmlessN2andtenmoleculesoflovelyH2.Duringthisprocess,itgoesthroughanintermediatestepofbeingammonia.Chemistry,beingthesloppybitchit is,ensuresthere’llbesomeammoniathatdoesn’treactwiththehydrazine,soit’lljuststayammonia.Youlikethesmellofammonia?Well,it’llbeprevalentinmyincreasinglyhellishexistence.Thechemistryisonmyside.ThequestionnowishowdoIactuallymakethis

reaction happen slowly, and how do I collect the hydrogen? The answer is: Idon’tknow.IsupposeI’llthinkofsomething.Ordie.Anyway, much more important: I simply can’t abide the replacement of

ChrissywithCindy.Three’sCompanymayneverbe thesameafter this fiasco.Timewilltell.

CHAPTER4

LOGENTRY:SOL32

SoIranintoabunchofproblemswithmywaterplan.Myideaistomake600litersofwater(limitedbythehydrogenIcangetfrom

thehydrazine).ThatmeansI’llneed300litersofliquidO2.IcancreatetheO2easilyenough.IttakestwentyhoursfortheMAVfuelplant

to fill its 10-liter tankwithCO2. The oxygenator can turn it intoO2, then theatmosphericregulatorwillseetheO2contentintheHabishigh,andpullitoutoftheair,storingitinthemainO2tanks.They’llfillup,soI’llhavetotransferO2

overtotherovers’tanksandeventhespacesuittanksasnecessary.ButIcan’tcreateitveryquickly.AthalfaliterofCO2perhour,itwilltake

twenty-fivedaystomaketheoxygenIneed.That’slongerthanI’dlike.Also, there’s theproblemofstoring thehydrogen.Theair tanksof theHab,

therovers,andallthespacesuitsadduptoexactly374litersofstorage.Toholdallthematerialsforwater,Iwouldneedawhopping900litersofstorage.I considered using one of the rovers as a “tank.” It would certainly be big

enough,butitjustisn’tdesignedtoholdinthatmuchpressure.It’smadetohold(you guessed it) one atmosphere. I need vessels that can hold fifty times thatmuch.I’msurearoverwouldburst.Thebestwaytostore the ingredientsofwater is tomake thembewater.So

what’swhatI’llhavetodo.

Theconceptissimple,buttheexecutionwillbeincrediblydangerous.Everytwentyhours,I’llhave10litersofCO2 thankstotheMAVfuelplant.

I’ll vent it into theHabvia thehighly scientificmethodofdetaching the tankfrom theMAV landing struts,bringing it into theHab, thenopening thevalveuntilit’sempty.Theoxygenatorwillturnitintooxygeninitsowntime.Then, I’ll releasehydrazine,veryslowly, over the iridiumcatalyst, to turn it

intoN2andH2.I’lldirectthehydrogentoasmallareaandburnit.Asyoucansee,thisplanprovidesmanyopportunitiesformetodieinafiery

explosion.Firstly, hydrazine is some serious death. If Imake anymistakes, there’ll be

nothingleftbutthe“MarkWatneyMemorialCrater”wheretheHaboncestood.Presuming I don’t fuck up with the hydrazine, there’s still the matter of

burninghydrogen.I’mgoingtobesettingafire.IntheHab.Onpurpose.If you asked every engineer atNASAwhat theworst scenario for theHab

was,they’dallanswer“fire.”Ifyouaskedthemwhattheresultwouldbe,they’danswer“deathbyfire.”ButifIcanpullitoff,I’llbemakingwatercontinuously,withnoneedtostore

hydrogen or oxygen. It’ll be mixed into the atmosphere as humidity, but thewaterreclaimerwillpullitout.Idon’tevenhavetoperfectlymatchthehydrazineendofitwiththefuelplant

CO2part.There’splentyofoxygenintheHab,andplentymoreinreserve.IjustneedtomakesurenottomakesomuchwaterIrunmyselfoutofO2.IhookeduptheMAVfuelplanttotheHab’spowersupply.Fortunatelythey

bothusethesamevoltage.It’schuggingaway,collectingCO2forme.Half-rationfordinner.AllIaccomplishedtodaywasthinkingupaplanthat’ll

killme,andthatdoesn’ttakemuchenergy.I’mgoingtofinishoffthelastofThree’sCompanytonight.Frankly,IlikeMr.

FurleymorethantheRopers.

LOGENTRY:SOL33

Thismaybemylastentry.I’veknownsinceSol6therewasagoodchanceI’ddiehere.ButIfiguredit

wouldbewhenIranoutoffood.Ididn’tthinkitwouldbethisearly.I’mabouttofireupthehydrazine.Ourmissionwasdesignedknowingthatanythingmightneedmaintenance,so

Ihaveplentyoftools.Eveninaspacesuit,Iwasabletoprytheaccesspanelsoff theMDVandgetat thesixhydrazine tanks. Iset themin theshadowofarovertokeepthemfromheatinguptoomuch.There’smoreshadeandacoolertemperaturenear theHab,but fuck that. If they’regoing toblowup, theycanblowuparover,notmyhouse.Then Ipriedout the reactionchamber. It tooksomeworkand Icracked the

damn thing in half, but I got it out. Lucky forme I don’t need a proper fuelreaction.Infact,Ireally,super-duperdon’twantaproperfuelreaction.Ibroughtthereactionchamberin.Ibrieflyconsideredonlybringingonetank

ofhydrazineinatatimetoreducerisk.Butsomeback-of-the-napkinmathtoldmeevenonetankwasenoughtoblowthewholeHabup.SoIbroughtthemallin.Whynot?Thetankshavemanualventvalves.I’mnot100percentsurewhatthey’refor.

Certainlywewereneverexpected touse them. I think they’re there to releasepressure during themany quality checks done during construction and beforefueling. Whatever the reason, I have valves to work with. All it takes is awrench.Iliberatedasparewaterhosefromthewaterreclaimer.Withsomethreadtorn

outofauniform(sorry,Johanssen),Iattachedittothevalveoutput.Hydrazineisaliquid,soallIhavetodoisleadittothereactionchamber(moreofa“reactionbowl”now).Meanwhile, theMAVfuelplant isstillworking. I’vealreadybrought inone

tankofCO2,ventedit,andreturneditforrefilling.Sotherearenomoreexcuses.It’stimetostartmakingwater.IfyoufindthecharredremainsoftheHab,itmeansIdidsomethingwrong.

I’mcopyingthislogovertobothrovers,soit’smorelikelyit’llsurvive.Heregoesnothin’.

LOGENTRY:SOL33(2)

Well,Ididn’tdie.FirstthingIdidwasputontheinnerliningofmyEVAsuit.Notthebulkysuit

itself, just the innerclothing Iwearunder it, including theglovesandbooties.Then I got an oxygenmask from themedical supplies and some lab gogglesfromVogel’schemkit.AlmostallofmybodywasprotectedandIwasbreathingcannedair.Why?Because hydrazine is very toxic. If I breathe toomuch of it, I’ll get

majorlungproblems.IfIgetitonmyskin,I’llhavechemicalburnsfortherestofmylife.Iwasn’ttakinganychances.Iturnedthevalveuntilatrickleofhydrazinecameout.Iletonedropfallinto

theiridiumbowl.Itundramaticallysizzledanddisappeared.Buthey,that’swhatIwanted.Ijustfreeduphydrogenandnitrogen.Yay!OnethingIhaveinabundanceherearebags.They’renotmuchdifferentfrom

kitchentrashbags,thoughI’msuretheycost$50,000becauseofNASA.Inaddition tobeingourcommander,Lewiswasalso thegeologist.Shewas

going to collect rock and soil samples from all over the operational area (10-kilometer radius).Weight limits restricted howmuch she could actually bringbacktoEarth,soshewasgoingtocollectfirst,thensortoutthemostinteresting50kilograms to takehome.Thebagswere tostoreand tag thesamples.SomearesmallerthanaZiploc,whileothersareasbigasaHeftylawnandleafbag.Also,Ihaveducttape.Ordinaryducttape,likeyoubuyatahardwarestore.

TurnsoutevenNASAcan’timproveonducttape.IcutupafewHefty-sizedbagsandtapedthemtogethertomakeasortoftent.

Really it was more of a supersized bag. I was able to cover the whole tablewheremy hydrazinemad scientist setupwas. I put a few knickknacks on thetabletokeeptheplasticoutoftheiridiumbowl.Thankfully,thebagsareclear,soIcanstillseewhat’sgoingon.Next, I sacrificed a space suit to the cause. I needed an air hose. I have a

surplusofspacesuits,afterall.Atotalofsix;oneforeachcrewmember.SoIdon’tmindmurderingoneofthem.Icutaholeinthetopoftheplasticandduct-tapedthehoseinplace.Niceseal,

Ithink.WithsomemorestringfromJohannsen’sclothing,Ihungtheotherendofthe

hosefromthetopoftheHab’sdomebytwoangledthreads(tokeepthemwellclearofthehoseopening).NowIhadalittlechimney.Thehosewasaboutonecentimeterwide.Hopefullyagoodaperture.Thehydrogenwillbehotafterthereaction,andit’llwanttogoup.SoI’lllet

itgoupthechimney,thenburnitasitcomesout.ThenIhadtoinventfire.NASAputalotofeffortintomakingsurenothingherecanburn.Everything

is made of metal or flame-retardant plastic and the uniforms are synthetic. Ineededsomethingthatcouldholdaflame,somekindofpilotlight.Idon’thavetheskillstokeepenoughH2flowingtofeedaflamewithoutkillingmyself.Toonarrowamarginthere.Afterasearchofeveryone’spersonalitems(hey,iftheywantedprivacy,they

shouldn’thaveabandonedmeonMarswiththeirstuff)Ifoundmyanswer.Martinez is a devout Catholic. I knew that. What I didn’t know was he

broughtalongasmallwoodencross.I’msureNASAgavehimshitaboutit,butIalsoknowMartinezisonestubbornsonofabitch.Ichippedhissacredreligiousitemintolongsplintersusingapairofpliersand

ascrewdriver.Ifigureifthere’saGod,Hewon’tmind,consideringthesituationI’min.If ruining the only religious icon I have leaves me vulnerable to Martian

vampires,I’llhavetoriskit.There were plenty of wires and batteries around tomake a spark. But you

can’tjustignitewoodwithasmallelectricspark.SoIcollectedribbonsofbarkfromlocalpalm trees, thengotacoupleofsticksandrubbed themtogether tocreateenoughfrictionto…Nonotreally.Iventedpureoxygenat thestickandgaveitaspark.It litup

likeamatch.Withmymini-torchinhand,Istartedaslowhydrazineflow.Itsizzledonthe

iridium and disappeared. Soon I had short bursts of flame sputtering from thechimney.ThemainthingIhadtowatchwasthetemperature.Hydrazinebreakingdown

is extremely exothermic. So I did it a bit at a time, constantly watching thereadoutofathermocoupleI’dattachedtotheiridiumchamber.Pointis,theprocessworked!Eachhydrazine tankholdsa littleover50 liters,whichwouldbeenough to

make 100 liters of water. I’m limited by my oxygen production, but I’m all

excitednow,soI’mwillingtousehalfmyreserves.Longstoryshort, I’llstopwhenthetankishalf-empty,andI’llhave50litersofwaterattheend!

LOGENTRY:SOL34

Well,thattookareallylongtime.I’vebeenatitallnightwiththehydrazine.ButIgotthejobdone.Icouldhave finished faster,but I figuredcaution’sbestwhensetting fire to

rocketfuelinanenclosedspace.Boyisthisplaceatropicaljunglenow,I’lltellya.It’salmost30°Cinhere,andhumidasallhell.Ijustdumpedatonofheatand

50litersofwaterintotheair.Duringthisprocess,thepoorHabhadtobethemotherofamessytoddler.It’s

beenreplacingtheoxygenI’veused,andthewaterreclaimeristryingtogetthehumidity down to sane levels. Nothing to be done about the heat. There’sactuallynoair-conditioningintheHab.Marsiscold.Gettingridofexcessheatisn’tsomethingweexpectedtodealwith.I’venowgrownaccustomedtohearingthealarmsblareatalltimes.Thefire

alarmhasfinallystopped,nowthatthere’snomorefire.Thelowoxygenalarmshould stop soon.Thehighhumidityalarmwill takea little longer.Thewaterreclaimerhasitsworkcutoutforittoday.Foramoment,therewasyetanotheralarm.Thewaterreclaimer’smaintank

wasfull.Booyah!That’sthekindofproblemIwanttohave!Remember the space suit I vandalized yesterday? I hung it on its rack and

carriedbucketsofwatertoitfromthereclaimer.Itcanholdanatmosphereofairin.Itshouldbeabletohandleafewbucketsofwater.Man I’m tired.Beenup all night, and it’s time to sleep.But I’ll drift off to

dreamlandinthebestmoodI’vebeeninsinceSol6.Thingsarefinallygoingmyway.Infact,they’regoinggreat!Ihaveachance

toliveafterall!

LOGENTRY:SOL37

Iamfucked,andI’mgonnadie!Okay,calmdown.I’msureIcangetaroundthis.I’mwritingthislogtoyou,dearfutureMarsarchaeologist,fromRover2.You

maywonderwhyI’mnot in theHabrightnow.BecauseI fled in terror, that’swhy!AndI’mnotsurewhatthehelltodonext.IguessIshouldexplainwhathappened.Ifthisismylastentry,you’llatleast

knowwhy.Over the past few days, I’ve been happily making water. It’s been going

swimmingly.(SeewhatIdidthere?“Swimmingly”?)I even beefed up theMAV fuel plant compressor. It was very technical (I

increasedthevoltagetothepump).SoI’mmakingwaterevenfasternow.Aftermyinitialburstof50liters,Idecidedtosettledownandjustmakeitat

therateIgetO2.I’mnotwillingtogobelowa25-literreserve.SowhenIdiptoolow, I stopdickingwithhydrazineuntil Iget theO2backup towellabove25liters.Importantnote:WhenIsayImade50litersofwater,that’sanassumption.I

didn’treclaim50litersofwater.TheadditionalsoilI’dfilledtheHabwithwasextremelydryandgreedilysuckedupalotofthehumidity.That’swhereIwantthewater to go anyway, so I’m notworried, and Iwasn’t surprisedwhen thereclaimerdidn’tgetanywherenear50liters.Iget10litersofCO2everyfifteenhoursnowthatIsoupedupthepump.I’ve

donethisprocessfourtimes.Mymathtellsmethat,includingmyinitial50-literburst,Ishouldhaveadded130litersofwatertothesystem.Wellmymathwasadamnliar!I’d gained 70 liters in the water reclaimer and the space-suit-turned-water-

tank.There’splentyofcondensationonthewallsanddomedroof,andthesoiliscertainlyabsorbingitsfairshare.Butthatdoesn’taccountfor60litersofmissingwater.Somethingwaswrong.That’swhenInoticedtheotherO2tank.The Hab has two reserve O2 tanks. One on each side of the structure, for

safetyreasons.TheHabcandecidewhichonetousewheneveritwants.Turnsoutit’sbeentoppingofftheatmospherefromTank1.ButwhenIaddO2tothesystem(viatheoxygenator),theHabevenlydistributesthegainbetweenthetwo

tanks.Tank2hasbeenslowlygainingoxygen.That’snotaproblem.TheHabisjustdoingitsjob.ButitdoesmeanI’vebeen

gainingO2overtime.WhichmeansI’mnotconsumingitasfastasIthought.At first, I thought “Yay!More oxygen!Now I canmakewater faster!”But

thenamoredisturbingthoughtoccurredtome.Followmylogic:I’mgainingO2.ButtheamountI’mbringinginfromoutside

isconstant.Sotheonlywayto“gain”it istobeusinglessthanIthought.ButI’vebeendoingthehydrazinereactionwiththeassumptionthatIwasusingallofit.Theonlypossibleexplanation is that Ihaven’tbeenburningall the released

hydrogen.It’sobviousnow, inretrospect.But itneveroccurredtomethatsomeof the

hydrogenjustwouldn’tburn.Itgotpast theflame,andwentonitsmerryway.Damnit,Jim,I’mabotanist,notachemist!Chemistryismessy,sothere’sunburnedhydrogenin theair.Allaroundme.

Mixedinwiththeoxygen.Just…hangingout.WaitingforasparksoitcanblowtheHabup!OnceIfiguredthisoutandcomposedmyself,IgotaZiploc-sizedsamplebag

andwaveditaroundabit,thensealedit.Then, a quick EVA to a rover, where we keep the atmospheric analyzers.

Nitrogen:22percent.Oxygen:9percent.Hydrogen:64percent.I’vebeenhidinghereintherovereversince.It’sHydrogenvilleintheHab.I’mveryluckyithasn’tblown.Evenasmallstaticdischargewouldhaveled

tomyownprivateHindenburg.So, I’m here inRover 2. I can stay for a day or two, tops, before theCO2

filtersfromtheroverandmyspacesuitfillup.Ihavethatlongtofigureouthowtodealwiththis.TheHabisnowabomb.

CHAPTER5

LOGENTRY:SOL38

I’mstillcowering in therover,but I’vehad timeto think.AndIknowhowtodealwiththehydrogen.Ithoughtabouttheatmosphericregulator.Itpaysattentiontowhat’sintheair

and balances it. That’s how the excessO2 I’ve been importing ends up in thetanks.Problemis,it’sjustnotbuilttopullhydrogenoutoftheair.The regulator uses freeze-separation to sort out the gasses.When it decides

there’s toomuch oxygen, it starts collecting air in a tank and cooling it to 90kelvin. That makes the oxygen turn to liquid, but leaves the nitrogen(condensationpoint:77K)stillgaseous.ThenitstorestheO2.ButIcan’tgetittodothatforhydrogen,becausehydrogenneedstobebelow

21Ktoturnliquid.Andtheregulatorjustcan’tgettemperaturesthatlow.Deadend.Here’sthesolution:Hydrogen is dangerous because it can blow up. But it can only blow up if

there’soxygenaround.Hydrogenwithoutoxygenisharmless.Andtheregulatorisallaboutpullingoxygenoutoftheair.There are four different safety interlocks that prevent the regulator from

letting the Hab’s oxygen content get too low. But they’re designed to workagainsttechnicalfaults,notdeliberatesabotage(bwahaha!).Longstoryshort,Icantricktheregulatorintopullingalltheoxygenoutofthe

Hab.Then I canwear a space suit (so I can breathe) and dowhatever Iwantwithoutfearofblowingup.I’lluseanO2tanktosprayshortburstsofoxygenatthehydrogen,andmakea

sparkwithacoupleofwiresandabattery.It’llsetthehydrogenonfire,butonlyuntilthesmallbitofoxygenisusedup.I’lljustdothatoverandover,incontrolledbursts,untilI’veburnedoffallthe

hydrogen.Onetinyflawwiththatplan:It’llkillmydirt.Thedirtisonlyviablesoilbecauseofthebacteriagrowinginit.IfIgetridof

all the oxygen, the bacteriawill die. I don’t have 100 billion little space suitshandy.It’shalfasolutionanyway.Timetotakeabreakfromthinking.

CommanderLewiswas the last one touse this rover.Shewas scheduled touseitagainonSol7,butshewenthomeinstead.Herpersonaltravelkit’sstillintheback.Riflingthroughit,IfoundaproteinbarandapersonalUSB,probablyfullofmusictolistentoonthedrive.Time to chow down and see what the good commander brought along for

music.

LOGENTRYSOL38(2)

Disco.Goddamnit,Lewis.

LOGENTRY:SOL39

IthinkI’vegotit.Soilbacteriaareusedtowinters.Theygetlessactive,andrequirelessoxygen

tosurvive.IcanlowertheHabtemperatureto1°C,andthey’llnearlyhibernate.Thissortof thinghappensonEarthall the time.Theycansurviveacoupleofdaysthisway.Ifyou’rewonderinghowbacteriaonEarthsurvivelongerperiodsofcold,theansweristheydon’t.Bacteriafromfurtherundergroundwhereitiswarmerbreedupwardtoreplacethedeadones.They’llstillneedsomeoxygen,butnotmuch.Ithinka1percentcontentwill

do the trick. That leaves a little in the air for the bacteria to breathe, but notenoughtomaintainafire.Sothehydrogenwon’tblowup.Butthatleadstoyetanotherproblem.Thepotatoplantswon’tliketheplan.Theydon’tmindthelackofoxygen,butthecoldwillkillthem.SoI’llhaveto

pot them (bag them, actually) and move them to a rover. They haven’t evensproutedyet,soit’snotliketheyneedlight.Itwassurprisinglyannoyingtofindawaytomaketheheatstayonwhenthe

rover’sunoccupied.But I figured itout.Afterall, I’vegotnothingbut time inhere.

Sothat’stheplan.First,bagthepotatoplantsandbringthemtotherover(makesureitkeepsthedamnheateron).ThendroptheHabtemperatureto1°C.Thenreduce theO2content to1percent.Thenburnoff thehydrogenwithabattery,somewires,andatankofO2.Yeah.Thisallsoundslikeagreatideawithnochanceofcatastrophicfailure.Thatwassarcasm,bytheway.Well,offIgo.

LOGENTRY:SOL40

Thingsweren’t100percentsuccessful.Theysaynoplansurvivesfirstcontactwithimplementation.I’dhavetoagree.

Here’swhathappened:IsummonedupthecouragetoreturntotheHab.OnceIgotthere,Ifeltalittle

more confident. Everythingwas how I’d left it. (What did I expect?Martianslootingmystuff?)It would take a while to let the Hab cool, so I started that right away by

turningthetemperaturedownto1°C.Ibaggedthepotatoplants,andgotachancetocheckuponthemwhileIwas

at it.They’re rootingnicelyandabout tosprout.One thing Ihadn’taccountedforwashowtobringthemfromtheHabtotherovers.Theanswerwasprettyeasy.IputalloftheminMartinez’sspacesuit.ThenI

draggeditoutwithmetotheroverI’dsetupasatemporarynursery.Makingsuretojimmytheheatertostayon,IheadedbacktotheHab.BythetimeIgotback,itwasalreadychilly.Downto5°Calready.Shivering

and watching my breath condense in front of me, I threw on extra layers ofclothes. Fortunately I’mnot a very bigman.Martinez’s clothes fit overmine,andVogel’sfitoverMartinez’s.Theseshittyclothesweredesignedtobeworninatemperature-controlledenvironment.Evenwiththreelayers,Iwasstillcold.Iclimbedintomybunkandunderthecoversformorewarmth.Oncethetemperaturegotto1°C,Iwaitedanotherhour,justtomakesurethe

bacteriainthedirtgotthememothatitwastimetotakeitslow.The next problem I ran into was the regulator. Despite my swaggering

confidence,Iwasn’tabletooutwitit.ItreallydoesnotwanttopulltoomuchO2

out of the air.The lowest I couldget it towas15percent.After that, it flatlyrefused to go lower, and nothing I did mattered. I had all these plans aboutgetting in and reprogramming it. But the safety protocols turned out to be inROMs.I can’t blame it. Its whole purpose is to prevent the atmosphere from

becoming lethal. Nobody at NASA thought, “Hey, let’s allow a fatal lack ofoxygenthatwillmakeeveryonedropdead!”SoIhadtouseamoreprimitiveplan.The regulator uses a different set of vents for air sampling than it does for

mainairseparation.Theairthatgetsfreeze-separatedcomesinthroughasinglelargeventonthemainunit.Butitsamplestheairfromninesmallventsthatpipeback to the main unit. That way it gets a good average of the Hab, and onelocalizedimbalancewon’tthrowitoff.Itapedupeightoftheintakes,leavingonlyoneofthemactive.ThenItaped

themouthof aHefty-sizedbagover theneck-holeof a spacesuit (Johanssen’sthis time). In the back of the bag, I poked a small hole and taped it over theremainingintake.Then I inflated the bagwith pureO2 from the suit’s tanks. “Holy shit!” the

regulatorthought,“IbetterpullO2outrightaway!”Workedgreat!I decided not to wear a space suit after all. The atmospheric pressure was

going to be fine. All I needed was oxygen. So I grabbed an O2 canister andbreathermaskfromthemedicalbay.Thatway,Ihadahellofalotmorefreedomofmotion.Itevenhadarubberbandtokeepitonmyface!ThoughIdidneedaspacesuit tomonitortheactualHaboxygenlevel,now

thattheHab’smaincomputerwasconvinceditwas100percentO2.Let’ssee…Martinez’sspacesuitwasintherover.Johanssen’swasoutwittingtheregulator.Lewis’swasservingasawatertank.Ididn’twanttomesswithmine(hey,it’scustom-fitted!).Thatleftmetwospacesuitstoworkwith.IgrabbedVogel’ssuitandactivatedtheinternalairsensorswhileleavingthe

helmetoff.Oncetheoxygendroppedto12percent,Iputthebreathermaskon.Iwatcheditfallfurtherandfurther.Whenitreached1percent,Icutpowertotheregulator.Imaynot be able to reprogram the regulator, but I can turn the bastard off

completely.TheHabhasemergencyflashlightsinmanylocationsincaseofcriticalpower

failure.ItoretheLEDbulbsoutofoneandleftthetwofrayedpowerwiresveryclosetogether.Now,whenIturnediton,Igotasmallspark.TakingacanisterofO2fromVogel’ssuit,Iattachedastraptobothendsand

slungitovermyshoulder.ThenIattachedanairlinetothetankandcrimpeditwith my thumb. I turned on a very slow trickle of O2; small enough that itcouldn’toverpowerthecrimp.Standingon the tablewithasparker inonehandandmyoxygen line in the

other,Ireachedupandgaveitatry.Andholyhell,itworked!BlowingtheO2overthesparker,Iflickedtheswitch

on the flashlight and a wonderful jet of flame fired out of the tube. The firealarmwent off, of course. But I’d heard it somuch lately, I barely noticed itanymore.ThenIdid itagain.Andagain.Shortbursts.Nothingflashy. Iwashappy to

takemytime.Iwas elated! Thiswas the best plan ever!Not onlywas I clearing out the

hydrogen,Iwasmakingmorewater!Everythingwentgreatrightuptotheexplosion.

OneminuteIwashappilyburninghydrogen;thenextIwasontheothersideoftheHab,andalotofstuffwasknockedover.IstumbledtomyfeetandsawtheHabindisarray.Myfirstthoughtwas:“Myearshurtlikehell!”ThenIthought,“I’mdizzy,”andfelltomyknees.ThenIfellprone.Iwasthat

dizzy.Igropedmyheadwithbothhands,lookingforaheadwoundIdesperatelyhopedwouldnotbethere.Nothingseemedtobeamiss.Butfeelingallovermyheadandfacerevealedthetrueproblem.Myoxygen

maskhadbeenrippedoffintheblast.Iwasbreathingnearlypurenitrogen.ThefloorwascoveredinjunkfromallovertheHab.Nohopeoffindingthe

medicalO2tank.NohopeoffindinganythinginthismessbeforeIpassedout.ThenIsawLewis’ssuithangingrightwhereitbelonged.Ithadn’tmovedin

theblast.Itwasheavytostartwithandhad70litersofwaterinit.Irushedover,quicklycrankedontheO2,andstuckmyheadintotheneckhole

(I’dremovedthehelmetlongago,foreasyaccesstothewater).Ibreathedabituntilthedizzinessfaded,thentookadeepbreathandheldit.Still holdingmy breath, I glanced over to the space suit andHefty bag I’d

used to outsmart the regulator.The bad news is I’d never removed them.Thegood news is the explosion removed them. Eight of the nine intakes for theregulatorwerestillbagged,butthisonewouldatleasttellthetruth.Stumblingovertotheregulator,Iturneditbackon.After a two-second boot process (it was made to start up fast for obvious

reasons),itimmediatelyidentifiedtheproblem.The shrill low-oxygen alarm blared throughout the Hab as the regulator

dumpedpureoxygen into theatmosphereas fastas it safelycould.Separatingoxygenfromtheatmosphereisdifficultandtime-consuming,butaddingitisassimpleasopeningavalve.

IclamberedoverdebrisbacktoLewis’sspacesuitandputmyheadbackinfor more good air. Within three minutes, the regulator had brought the Haboxygenbackuptopar.Inoticedforthefirsttimehowburnedmyclothingwas.Itwasagoodtimeto

bewearingthreelayersofclothes.Mostlythedamagewasonmysleeves.Theouterlayerwasgone.Themiddlelayerwassingedandburnedcleanthroughinplaces.Theinnerlayer,myownuniform,wasinreasonablygoodshape.LookslikeIluckedoutagain.Also,glancingattheHab’smaincomputer,Isawthetemperaturehadgoneup

to15°C.Somethingveryhotandveryexplodeyhadhappened,andIwasn’tsurewhat.Orhow.Andthat’swhereIamnow.Wonderingwhatthehellhappened.Afterallthatworkandgettingblownup,I’mexhausted.TomorrowI’llhave

todoamillionequipment checks and try to figureoutwhat exploded,but fornowIjustwanttosleep.I’mintheroveragaintonight.Evenwiththehydrogengone,I’mreluctantto

hangoutinaHabthathasahistoryofexplodingfornoreason.Plus,Ican’tbesurethereisn’taleak.Thistime,Ibroughtapropermeal,andsomethingtolistentothatisn’tdisco.

LOGENTRY:SOL41

I spent the day running full diagnostics on every system in the Hab. It wasincrediblyboring,butmy survivaldependson thesemachines, so it had tobedone.Ican’tjustassumeanexplosiondidnolong-termdamage.I did themost critical tests first. Number onewas the integrity of theHab

canvas. I felt pretty confident it was in good shape, because I’d spent a fewhoursasleepintheroverbeforereturningtotheHab,andthepressurewasstillgood.Thecomputerreportednochangeinpressureoverthattime,otherthanaminorfluctuationbasedontemperature.ThenIcheckedtheoxygenator.IfthatstopsworkingandIcan’tfixit,I’ma

deadman.Noproblems.Thentheatmosphericregulator.Again,noproblem.Heatingunit,primarybatteryarray,O2andN2storagetanks,waterreclaimer,

all threeairlocks, lighting systems,maincomputer…onandon Iwent, feelingbetterandbetteraseachsystemprovedtobeinperfectworkingorder.GottohandittoNASA.Theydon’tscrewaroundwhenmakingthisstuff.Thencamethecriticalpart…checkingthedirt.Itookafewsamplesfromall

overtheHab(remember,it’salldirtflooringnow)andmadeslides.Withshakinghands,Iputaslideintothemicroscopeandbroughttheimage

upon-screen.Theretheywere!Healthy,activebacteriadoingtheirthing!LookslikeIwon’tbestarvingtodeathonSol400afterall.Iploppeddowninachairandletmybreathingreturntonormal.ThenIsetaboutcleaningupthemess.AndIhadalotoftimetothinkabout

whathadhappened.Sowhathappened?Well,Ihaveatheory.Accordingtothemaincomputer,duringtheblast,theinternalpressurespiked

to1.4atmospheres,andthetemperatureroseto15°Cinunderasecond.Butthepressure quickly subsided back to 1 atm. This would make sense if theatmosphericregulatorwereon,butI’dcutpowertoit.The temperature remained at 15°C for some time afterward, so any heat

expansionshouldstillhavebeenpresent.Butthepressuredroppeddownagain,sowhere did that extra pressure go?Raising the temperature and keeping thesame number of atoms inside should permanently raise the pressure. But itdidn’t.

Iquicklyrealizedtheanswer.Thehydrogen(theonlyavailablethingtoburn)combined with oxygen (hence combustion) and became water. Water is athousand times as dense as a gas. So the heat added to the pressure, and thetransformationofhydrogenandoxygenintowaterbroughtitbackdownagain.Themilliondollarquestionis,wherethehelldidtheoxygencomefrom?The

wholeplanwastolimitoxygenandkeepanexplosionfromhappening.Anditwasworkingforquiteawhilebeforeblowingup.IthinkIhavemyanswer.Anditcomesdowntomebrain-farting.Remember

whenIdecidednottowearaspacesuit?Thatdecisionalmostkilledme.ThemedicalO2tankmixespureoxygenwithsurroundingair,thenfeedsitto

youthroughamask.Themaskstaysonyourfacewithalittlerubberbandthatgoesaroundthebackofyourneck.Notanairtightseal.I know what you’re thinking. The mask leaked oxygen. But no. I was

breathingtheoxygen.WhenIwasinhaling,Imadeanearlyairtightsealwiththemaskbysuckingittomyface.Theproblemwasexhaling.Doyouknowhowmuchoxygenyouabsorboutof

the air when you take a normal breath? I don’t know either, but it’s not 100percent.EverytimeIexhaled,Iaddedmoreoxygentothesystem.Itjustdidn’toccurtome.Butitshouldhave.Ifyourlungsgrabbedupallthe

oxygen,mouth-to-mouthresuscitationwouldn’twork.I’msuchadumb-assfornotthinkingofit!Andmydumb-asseryalmostgotmekilled!I’mreallygoingtohavetobemorecareful.It’s a good thing I burned off most of the hydrogen before the explosion.

Otherwise thatwouldhavebeen the end.As it is, the explosionwasn’t strongenough to pop the Hab. Though it was strong enough to almost blast myeardrumsin.This all started with me noticing a 60-liter shortfall in water production.

Between deliberate burn-off and a bit of unexpected explosion, I’m back ontrack.Thewaterreclaimerdiditsjoblastnightandpulled50litersofthenewlycreatedwater out of the air. It’s storing it inLewis’s spacesuit,which I’ll call“The Cistern” from now on, because it sounds cooler. The other 10 liters ofwaterwasdirectlyabsorbedbythedrysoil.Lotsofphysicallabortoday.I’veearnedafullmeal.Andtocelebratemyfirst

nightbackintheHab,I’llkickbackandwatchsomeshittytwentieth-centuryTVcourtesyofCommanderLewis.TheDukesofHazzard,eh?Let’sgiveitawhirl.

LOGENTRY:SOL42

Isleptinlatetoday.Ideservedit.Afterfournightsofawfulsleepintherover,mybunkfeltlikethesoftest,mostprofoundlybeautifulfeatherbedevermade.Eventually, I dragged my ass out of bed and finished some post-explosion

cleanup.I moved the potato plants back in today. And just in time, too. They’re

sprouting. They look healthy and happy. This isn’t chemistry, medicine,bacteriology,nutritionanalysis,explosiondynamics,oranyothershitI’vebeendoing lately.This isbotany. I’m sure I can at least grow some plantswithoutscrewingup.Right?You know what really sucks? I’ve only made 130 liters of water. I have

another470literstogo.You’dthinkafteralmostkillingmyselftwice,I’dbeabletostopscrewingaroundwithhydrazine.Butnope.I’llbereducinghydrazineandburning hydrogen in theHab, every ten hours, for another ten days. I’ll do abetter job of it from now on. Instead of counting on a clean reaction, I’ll dofrequent “hydrogen cleanings” with a small flame. It’ll burn off graduallyinsteadofbuildinguptokill-Marklevels.I’llhavealotofdeadtime.TenhoursforeachtankofCO2tofinishfilling.It

only takes twentyminutes to reduce thehydrazineandburn thehydrogen. I’llspendtherestofthetimewatchingTV.And seriously…It’s clear thatGeneralLeecanoutrunapolice cruiser.Why

doesn’tRoscojustgototheDukefarmandarrestthemwhenthey’renotinthecar?

CHAPTER6

VENKAT KAPOOR returned to his office, dropped his briefcase on the floor, andcollapsedintohisleatherchair.Hetookamomenttolookoutthewindows.Hisoffice inBuilding1affordedhimacommandingviewof the largepark in thecenterof theJohnsonSpaceCentercomplex.Beyond that,dozensof scatteredbuildingsdominatedtheviewallthewaytoMudLakeinthedistance.Glancingathiscomputerscreen,henotedforty-sevenunreade-mailsurgently

demandinghisattention.Theycouldwait.Todayhadbeenasadday.TodaywasthememorialserviceforMarkWatney.The President had given a speech, praisingWatney’s bravery and sacrifice,

and thequickactionsofCommanderLewis ingettingeveryoneelse to safety.CommanderLewisandthesurvivingcrew,vialong-rangecommunicationfromHermes, gave eulogies for their departed comrade fromdeep space.They hadanothertenmonthsoftravelyettoendure.Theadministratorhadgivenaspeechaswell,remindingeveryonethatspace

flight is incredibly dangerous, and that wewill not back down in the face ofadversity.They’daskedVenkatifhewaswillingtomakeaspeech.He’ddeclined.What

was the point? Watney was dead. Nice words from the director of Marsoperationswouldn’tbringhimback.“Youokay,Venk?”cameafamiliarvoicefromthedoorway.Venkatswiveledaround.“Guessso,”hesaid.Teddy Sanders swept a rogue thread off his otherwise immaculate blazer.

“Youcouldhavegivenaspeech.”“Ididn’twantto.Youknowthat.”“Yeah, Iknow. Ididn’twant to,either.But I’m theadministratorofNASA.

It’skindofexpected.Yousureyou’reokay?”“Yeah,I’llbefine.”“Good,”Teddysaid,adjustinghiscufflinks.“Let’sgetbacktowork,then.”“Sure.”Venkatshrugged.“Let’sstartwithyouauthorizingmysatellitetime.”Teddyleanedagainstthewallwithasigh.“Thisagain.”“Yes,”Venkatsaid.“Thisagain.Whatistheproblem?”“Okay,runmethroughit.What,exactly,areyouafter?”Venkatleanedforward.“Ares3wasafailure,butwecansalvagesomething

from it.We’re funded for fiveAresmissions. I thinkwe can getCongress to

fundasixth.”“Idon’tknow,Venk…”“It’ssimple,Teddy.”Venkatpressedon.“Theyevac’daftersixsols.There’s

almost an entire mission’s worth of supplies up there. It would only cost afractionofanormalmission.Itnormallytakesfourteenpresupplyprobestoprepasite.Wemightbeabletosendwhat’smissinginthree.Maybetwo.”“Venk,thesitegothitbya175kphsandstorm.It’llbeinreallybadshape.”“That’swhyIwantimagery,”Venkatsaid.“Ijustneedacoupleofshotsofthe

site.Wecouldlearnalot.”“Like what? You think we’d send people to Mars without being sure

everythingwasinperfectworkingorder?”“Everything doesn’t have to be perfect,” Venkat said quickly. “Whatever’s

broken,we’dsendreplacementsfor.”“Howwillweknowfromimagerywhat’sbroken?”“It’sjustafirststep.Theyevac’dbecausethewindwasathreattotheMAV,

buttheHabcanwithstandalotmorepunishment.Itmightstillbeinonepiece.“And it’ll be really obvious. If it popped, it’d completely blow out and

collapse.Ifit’sstillstanding,theneverythinginsidewillbefine.Andtheroversaresolid.TheycantakeanysandstormMarshastooffer.Justletmetakealook,Teddy,that’sallIwant.”Teddypacedtothewindowsandstaredoutatthevastexpanseofbuildings.

“You’renot theonlyguywhowantssatellite time,youknow.WehaveAres4supplymissionscomingup.WeneedtoconcentrateonSchiaparellicrater.”“Idon’tgetit,Teddy.What’stheproblemhere?”Venkatasked.“I’mtalking

about securing us another mission.We have twelve satellites in orbit aroundMars;I’msureyoucanspareoneortwoforacoupleofhours.Icangiveyouthewindowsforeachonewhenthey’llbeattherightangleforAres3shots—”“It’snotaboutsatellitetime,Venk,”Teddyinterrupted.Venkatfroze.“Then…but…what…”Teddy turned to face him. “We’re a public domainorganization.There’s no

suchthingassecretorsecureinformationhere.”“So?”“Anyimagerywetakegoesdirectlytothepublic.”“Again,so?”“Mark Watney’s body will be within twenty meters of the Hab. Maybe

partiallyburiedinsand,butstillveryvisible,andwithacommantennasticking

outofhischest.Anyimageswetakewillshowthat.”Venkatstared.Thenglared.“Thisiswhyyoudeniedmyimageryrequestsfor

twomonths?”“Venk,comeon—”“Really,Teddy?”hesaid.“You’reafraidofaPRproblem?”“Themedia’sobsessionwithWatney’sdeath is finally starting to taperoff,”

Teddysaidevenly.“It’sbeenbadpressafterbadpressfortwomonths.Today’smemorialgivespeopleclosure,andthemediacanmoveontosomeotherstory.Thelastthingwewantistodredgeeverythingbackup.”“So what do we do, then? He’s not going to decompose. He’ll be there

forever.”“Not forever,” Teddy said. “Within a year, he’ll be covered in sand from

normalweatheractivity.”“Ayear?”Venkat said, rising tohis feet. “That’s ludicrous.Wecan’twait a

yearforthis.”“Whynot?Ares4won’tevenlaunchforanotherfiveyears.Plentyoftime.”Venkattookadeepbreathandthoughtforamoment.“Okay, consider this: Sympathy forWatney’s family is really high. Ares 6

couldbringthebodyback.Wedon’tsaythat’s thepurposeof themission,butwemakeitclearthatwouldbepartofit.Ifweframeditthatway,we’dgetmoresupport in Congress. But not if we wait a year. In a year, people won’t careanymore.”Teddyrubbedhischin.“Hmm…”

•••

MINDYPARKstaredattheceiling.Shehadlittleelsetodo.Thethreea.m.shiftwasprettydull.Onlyaconstantstreamofcoffeekeptherawake.Monitoring thestatusofsatellitesaroundMarshadsounded likeanexciting

propositionwhenshetookthetransfer.Butthesatellites tendedtotakecareofthemselves. Her job turned out to be sending e-mails as imagery becameavailable.“Master’s degree in mechanical engineering,” she muttered. “And I’m

workinginanall-nightphotobooth.”Shesippedhercoffee.

Aflicker onher screen announced that another set of imageswas ready fordispatch.Shecheckedthenameontheworkorder.VenkatKapoor.Shepostedthedatadirectlytointernalserversandcomposedane-mailtoDr.

Kapoor.Assheenteredthelatitudeandlongitudeoftheimage,sherecognizedthenumbers.“31.2°N,28.5°W…AcidaliaPlanitia…Ares3?”Outofcuriosity,shebroughtupthefirstoftheseventeenimages.As she’d suspected, itwas theAres 3 site. She’d heard theywere going to

image it. Slightly ashamed of herself, she scoured the image for any sign ofMark Watney’s dead body. After a minute of fruitless searching, she wassimultaneouslyrelievedanddisappointed.She moved on to perusing the rest of the image. The Hab was intact; Dr.

Kapoorwouldbehappytoseethat.Shebroughtthecoffeemugtoherlips,thenfroze.“Um…,”shemumbledtoherself.“Uhhh…”She brought up the NASA intranet and navigated through the site to the

specifics of the Aresmissions. After some quick research, she picked up herphone.“Hey,thisisMindyParkatSatCon.IneedthemissionlogsforAres3,where

canIget’em?…Uhhuh…uh-huh…Okay…Thanks.”After somemore time on the intranet, she leaned back in her seat. She no

longerneededthecoffeetokeepawake.Pickingupthephoneagain,shesaid,“Hello,Security?ThisisMindyParkin

SatCon.IneedtheemergencycontactnumberforDr.VenkatKapoor.…Yesit’sanemergency.”

•••

MINDY FIDGETED in her seat as Venkat trudged in. To have the director of MarsoperationsvisitingSatConwasunusual.Seeinghim in jeansandaT-shirtwasevenmoreunusual.“YouMindyPark?”heaskedwiththescowlofamanoperatingontwohours

ofsleep.“Yes,”shequavered.“Sorrytodragyouin.”“I’massumingyouhadagoodreason.So?”

“Um,” she said, looking down. “Um, it’s.Well. The imagery you ordered.Um.Comehereandlook.”He pulled another chair to her station and seated himself. “Is this about

Watney’sbody?Isthatwhyyou’reshookup?”“Um,no,” she said. “Um.Well…uh.”Shewinced at her own awkwardness

andpointedtothescreen.Venkatinspectedtheimage.“LooksliketheHab’sinonepiece.That’sgood

news.Solararraylooksgood.Theroversareokay,too.Maindishisn’taround.Nosurprisethere.What’sthebigemergency?”“Um,”shesaid,touchingherfingertothescreen.“That.”Venkatleanedinandlookedcloser.JustbelowtheHab,besidetherovers,two

white circles sat in the sand. “Hmm. Looks likeHab canvas.Maybe theHabdidn’tdowellafterall?Iguesspiecesgottornoffand—”“Um,”sheinterrupted.“Theylooklikeroverpop-tents.”Venkatlookedagain.“Hmm.Probablyright.”“How’dtheygetsetup?”Mindyasked.Venkatshrugged.“CommanderLewisprobablyorderedthemdeployedduring

theevac.Notabad idea.Have theemergencyshelters ready incase theMAVdidn’tworkandtheHabbreached.”“Yeah, um,”Mindy said, opening a document on her computer, “this is the

entire mission log for Sols 1 through 6. From MDV touchdown to MAVemergencyliftoff.”“Okay,and?”“I read through it. Several times. They never threw out the pop-tents.”Her

voicecrackedatthelastword.“Well, uh…,”Venkat said, furrowing his brow. “They obviously did, but it

didn’tmakeitintothelog.”“Theyactivatedtwoemergencypop-tentsandnevertoldanyone?”“Hmm.Thatdoesn’tmakea lotofsense,no.Maybe thestormmessedwith

theroversandthetentsautodeployed.”“Soafterautodeploying,theydetachedthemselvesfromtheroversandlined

upnexttoeachothertwentymetersaway?”Venkatlookedbacktotheimage.“Wellobviouslytheyactivatedsomehow.”“Whyarethesolarcellsclean?”Mindysaid,fightingbacktears.“Therewasa

hugesandstorm.Whyisn’ttheresandalloverthem?”

“Agoodwindcouldhavedoneit?”Venkatsaid,unsure.“DidImentionIneverfoundWatney’sbody?”shesaid,sniffling.Venkat’s eyeswidened as he stared at the picture. “Oh…,” he said quietly.

“OhGod…”Mindyputherhandsoverherfaceandsobbedquietly.

•••

“FUCK!”AnnieMontrosesaid.“Youhavegottobefuckingkiddingme!”Teddyglaredacrosshis immaculatemahoganydeskathisdirectorofmedia

relations.“Nothelping,Annie.”HeturnedtohisdirectorofMarsoperations.“Howsureareweofthis?”“Nearlyahundredpercent,”Venkatsaid.“Fuck!”Anniesaid.Teddymovedafolderonhisdeskslightlytotherightsoitwouldlineupwith

hismousepad.“Itiswhatitis.Wehavetodealwithit.”“Do you have any idea themagnitude of shit storm this is gonna be?” she

retorted.“Youdon’thavetofacethosedamnreporterseveryday.Ido!”“Onethingatatime,”Teddysaid.“Venk,whatmakesyousurehe’salive?”“Forstarters,nobody,”Venkatexplained.“Also,thepop-tentsaresetup.And

thesolarcellsareclean.Youcan thankMindyPark inSatCon fornoticingallthat,bytheway.“But,”Venkatcontinued,“hisbodycouldhavebeenburiedintheSol6storm.

The pop-tents might have autodeployed and wind could have blown themaround.A30kphwindstormsometimelaterwouldhavebeenstrongenoughtocleanthesolarcellsbutnotstrongenoughtocarrysand.It’snotlikely,butit’spossible.“SoIspentthelastfewhourscheckingeverythingIcould.CommanderLewis

had twooutings inRover2.The secondwasonSol5.According to the logs,afterreturning,shepluggeditintotheHabforrecharging.Itwasn’tusedagain,andthirteenhourslatertheyevac’d.”HeslidapictureacrossthedesktoTeddy.“That’soneoftheimagesfromlastnight.Asyoucansee,Rover2isfacing

away from theHab.The chargingport is in thenose, and the cable isn’t longenoughtoreach.”

Teddyabsently rotated thepicture tobeparallelwith the edgesofhisdesk.“ShemusthaveparkeditfacingtheHaborshewouldn’thavebeenabletoplugitin,”hesaid.“It’sbeenmovedsinceSol5.”“Yeah,” Venkat said, sliding another picture to Teddy. “But here’s the real

evidence.InthelowerrightoftheimageyoucanseetheMDV.It’sbeentakenapart.I’mprettysuretheywouldn’thavedonethatwithouttellingus.“Andtheclincherisontherightoftheimage,”Venkatpointed.“Thelanding

strutsoftheMAV.Lookslikethefuelplanthasbeencompletelyremoved,withconsiderabledamagetothestrutsintheprocess.There’sjustnowaythatcouldhavehappenedbeforeliftoff.ItwouldhaveendangeredtheMAVwaytoomuchforLewistoallowit.”“Hey,”Anniesaid.“WhynottalktoLewis?Let’sgotoCAPCOMandaskher

directly.”Ratherthananswer,VenkatlookedtoTeddyknowingly.“Because,”Teddysaid,“ifWatney really isalive,wedon’twant theAres3

crewtoknow.”“What!?”Anniesaid.“Howcanyounottellthem?”“Theyhaveanothertenmonthsontheirtriphome,”Teddyexplained.“Space

travelisdangerous.Theyneedtobealertandundistracted.They’resadthattheylost a crewmate, but they’d be devastated if they found out they’d abandonedhimalive.”AnnielookedtoVenkat.“You’reonboardwiththis?”“It’s a no-brainer,” Venkat said. “Let ’em deal with that emotional trauma

whenthey’renotflyingaspaceshiparound.”“This’llbe themost talked-abouteventsinceApollo11,”Anniesaid.“How

willyoukeepitfromthem?”Teddyshrugged.“Easy.Wecontrolallcommunicationwiththem.”“Fuck,”Anniesaid,openingherlaptop.“Whendoyouwanttogopublic?”“What’syourtake?”heasked.“Mmm,” Annie said. “We can hold the pics for twenty-four hours before

we’re required to release them.We’ll need to sendout a statement alongwiththem. We don’t want people working it out on their own. We’d look likeassholes.”“Okay,”Teddyagreed,“puttogetherastatement.”“That’llbefun,”shegrumbled.“Wheredowegofromhere?”TeddyaskedVenkat.

“Steponeiscommunication,”Venkatsaid.“Fromthepics,it’sclearthecommarrayisruined.Weneedanotherwayto talk.Oncewecantalk,wecanassessandmakeplans.”“All right,” Teddy said. “Get on it. Take anyone you want from any

department.Useasmuchovertimeasyouwant.Findawaytotalktohim.That’syouronlyjobrightnow.”“Gotit.”“Annie,makesurenobodygetswindofthistillweannounce.”“Right,”Anniesaid.“Whoelseknows?”“JustthethreeofusandMindyParkinSatCon,”Venkatsaid.“I’llhaveawordwithher,”Anniesaid.Teddystoodandopenedhiscellphone.“I’mgoing toChicago. I’llbeback

tomorrow.”“Why?”Annieasked.“That’s whereWatney’s parents live,” Teddy said. “I owe them a personal

explanationbeforeitbreaksonthenews.”“They’llbehappytoheartheirson’salive,”Anniesaid.“Yes,he’salive,”Teddysaid.“Butifmymathisright,he’sdoomedtostarve

to death before we can possibly help him. I’m not looking forward to theconversation.”“Fuck,”Anniesaid,thoughtfully.

•••

“NOTHING?Nothingatall?”Venkatgroaned.“Areyoukiddingme?Youhadtwentyexperts working for twelve hours on this. We have a multibillion-dollarcommunicationsnetwork.Youcan’tfigureoutanywaytotalktohim?”ThetwomeninVenkat’sofficefidgetedintheirchairs.“He’sgotnoradio,”saidChuck.“Actually,”saidMorris,“he’sgotaradio,buthedoesn’thaveadish.”“Thing is,” Chuck continued, “without the dish, a signal would have to be

reallystrong—”“Like,melting-the-pigeonsstrong,”Morrissupplied.“—forhimtogetit,”Chuckfinished.

“WeconsideredMartiansatellites,”Morrissaid.“They’rewaycloser.Butthemath doesn’t work out. Even SuperSurveyor 3, which has the strongesttransmitter,wouldneedtobefourteentimesmorepowerful—”“Seventeentimes,”Chucksaid.“Fourteentimes,”Morrisasserted.“No,it’sseventeen.Youforgottheamperageminimumfortheheaterstokeep

the—”“Guys,”Venkatinterrupted,“Igettheidea.”“Sorry.”“Sorry.”“SorryifI’mgrumpy,”Venkatsaid.“Igotliketwohourssleeplastnight.”“Noproblem,”Morrissaid.“Totallyunderstandable,”Chucksaid.“Okay,”Venkat said. “Explain tome how a singlewindstorm removed our

abilitytotalktoAres3.”“Failureofimagination,”Chucksaid.“Totallydidn’tseeitcoming,”Morrisagreed.“Howmany backup communications systems does anAresmission have?”

Venkatasked.“Four,”Chucksaid.“Three,”Morrissaid.“No,it’sfour,”Chuckcorrected.“He said backup systems,” Morris insisted. “That means not including the

primarysystem.”“Ohright.Three.”“Sofoursystemstotal,then,”Venkatsaid.“Explainhowwelostallfour.”“Well,”Chuck said, “Theprimary ran through thebig satellitedish. It blew

awayinthestorm.TherestofthebackupswereintheMAV.”“Yup,”Morrisagreed.“TheMAVis, like,acommunicatingmachine. It can

talktoEarth,Hermes,evensatellitesaroundMars if ithas to.Andithas threeindependent systems to make sure nothing short of a meteor strike can stopcommunication.”“Problemis,”Chucksaid,“CommanderLewisandtherestofthemtookthe

MAVwhentheyleft.”“So four independent communications systems became one. And that one

broke,”Morrisfinished.Venkatpinchedthebridgeofhisnose.“Howcouldweoverlookthis?”Chuckshrugged.“Neveroccurredtous.Weneverthoughtsomeonewouldbe

onMarswithoutanMAV.”“Imean,comeon!”Morrissaid.“Whataretheodds?”Chuckturnedtohim.“Oneinthree,basedonempiricaldata.That’sprettybad

ifyouthinkaboutit.”

•••

THISWASgoingtoberoughandAnnieknewit.NotonlydidshehavetodeliverthebiggestmeaculpainNASA’shistory,everysecondofitwouldberememberedforever.Everymovementofherarms,intonationofhervoice,andexpressiononherfacewouldbeseenbymillionsofpeopleoverandoveragain.Notjustintheimmediatepresscycle,butfordecadestocome.EverydocumentarymadeaboutWatney’ssituationwouldhavethisclip.Shewasconfidentthatnoneofthatconcernshowedonherfaceasshetookto

thepodium.“Thankyouall for comingon such shortnotice,” she said to theassembled

reporters.“Wehavean importantannouncement tomake. Ifyoucouldall takeyourseats.”“Whatthisabout,Annie?”BryanHessfromNBCasked.“Somethinghappen

withHermes?”“Pleasetakeyourseats,”Annierepeated.Thereportersmilledaboutandarguedoverseatsforabrieftime,thenfinally

settleddown.“This is a shortbutvery importantannouncement,”Annie said. “Iwon’tbe

takinganyquestionsatthistime,butwewillhaveafullpressconferencewithQ&Ainaboutanhour.WehaverecentlyreviewedsatelliteimageryfromMarsandhaveconfirmedthatastronautMarkWatneyis,currently,stillalive.”Afteronefullsecondofuttersilence,theroomexplodedwithnoise.

•••

AWEEKafterthestunningannouncement,itwasstillthetopstoryoneverynewsnetworkintheworld.“I’mgettingsickofdailypressconferences,”VenkatwhisperedtoAnnie.“I’mgettingsickofhourlypressconferences,”Anniewhisperedback.ThetwostoodwithcountlessotherNASAmanagersandexecutivesbunched

uponthesmallstageinthepressroom.Theyfacedapitofhungryreporters,alldesperateforanyscrapofnewinformation.“Sorry I’m late,” Teddy said, entering from the side door. He pulled some

flashcardsfromhispocket,squaredtheminhishands,thenclearedhisthroat.“IntheninedayssinceannouncingMarkWatney’ssurvival,we’vereceiveda

massive showof support from all sectors.We’re using this shamelessly everywaywecan.”Asmallchucklecascadedthroughtheroom.“Yesterday,atourrequest, theentireSETInetworkfocusedonMars.Just in

caseWatneywassendingaweakradiosignal.Turnsouthewasn’t,butitshowsthelevelofcommitmenteveryonehastowardhelpingus.“Thepublicisengaged,andwewilldoourbest tokeepeveryoneinformed.

I’ve recently learned CNN will be dedicating a half-hour segment everyweekdaytoreportingonjustthisissue.Wewillassignseveralmembersofourmediarelationsteamtothatprogram,sothepubliccangetthelatestinformationasfastaspossible.“Wehaveadjustedtheorbitsofthreesatellitestogetmoreviewtimeonthe

Ares3siteandhopetocatchanimageofMarkoutsidesoon.Ifwecanseehimoutside, wewill be able to draw conclusions on his physical health based onstanceandactivities.“The questions aremany: How long can he last? Howmuch food does he

have?CanAres4rescuehim?Howwillwetalktohim?Theanswerstothesequestionsarenotwhatwewanttohear.“I can’t promisewe’ll succeed in rescuinghim,but I canpromise this:The

entire focus of NASAwill be to bringMarkWatney home. This will be ouroverridingandsingularobsessionuntilheiseitherbackonEarthorconfirmeddeadonMars.”

•••

“NICESPEECH,”VenkatsaidasheenteredTeddy’soffice.“Meanteverywordofit,”Teddysaid.“Oh,Iknow.”“WhatcanIdoforyou,Venk?”“I’vegotanidea.Well,JPLhasanidea.I’mthemessenger.”“Ilikeideas,”Teddysaid,gesturingtoaseat.Venkatsatdown.“WecanrescuehimwithAres4.It’sveryrisky.WerantheideabytheAres4

crew.Notonlyaretheywillingtodoit,butnowthey’rereallypushinghardforit.”“Naturally,”Teddysaid.“Astronautsareinherentlyinsane.Andreallynoble.

What’stheidea?”“Well,”Venkatbegan,“it’sintheroughstages,butJPLthinkstheMDVcan

bemisusedtosavehim.”“Ares 4 hasn’t even launched yet. Why misuse an MDV? Why not make

somethingbetter?”“Wedon’thavetimetomakeacustomcraft.Actually,hecan’tevensurvive

tillAres4getsthere,butthat’sadifferentproblem.”“SotellmeabouttheMDV.”“JPL strips it down, loses someweight, and adds some fuel tanks.Ares 4’s

crewlandsattheAres3site,veryefficiently.Then,withafullburn,andImeanafullburn,theycanliftoffagain.Itcan’tgetbacktoorbit,butitcangototheAres 4 site on a lateral trajectory that’s,well, really scary.Then they have anMAV.”“Howare they losingweight?”Teddyasked. “Don’t theyalreadyhave it as

lightasitcanbe?”“Byremovingsafetyandemergencyequipment.”“Wonderful,”Teddysaid.“Sowe’dberiskingthelivesofsixmorepeople.”“Yup,”Venkatsaid.“ItwouldbesafertoleavetheAres4crewinHermesand

only send the pilot downwith theMDV. But that wouldmean giving up themission,andthey’dratherriskdeath.”“They’reastronauts,”Teddysaid.“They’reastronauts,”Venkatconfirmed.“Well.That’saludicrousideaandI’llneverokayit.”“We’llworkonitsomemore,”Venkatsaid.“Trytomakeitsafer.”

“Dothat.Anyideahowtokeephimaliveforfouryears?”“Nope.”“Workonthat,too.”“Willdo,”Venkatsaid.Teddyswiveledhischairandlookedoutthewindowtotheskybeyond.Night

wasedgingin.“Whatmust itbelike?”hepondered.“He’sstuckout there.Hethinkshe’stotallyaloneandthatweallgaveuponhim.Whatkindofeffectdoesthathaveonaman’spsychology?”HeturnedbacktoVenkat.“Iwonderwhathe’sthinkingrightnow.”

LOGENTRY:SOL61

HowcomeAquamancancontrolwhales?They’remammals!Makesnosense.

CHAPTER7

LOGENTRY:SOL63

I finished making water some time ago. I’m no longer in danger of blowingmyselfup.Thepotatoesaregrowingnicely.Nothinghasconspiredtokillmeinweeks.AndseventiesTVkeepsmedisturbinglymoreentertainedthanitshould.ThingsarestablehereonMars.It’stimetostartthinkinglong-term.Even if I findaway to tellNASAI’malive, there’snoguarantee they’llbe

abletosaveme.Ineedtobeproactive.IneedtofigureouthowtogettoAres4.Won’tbeeasy.Ares4willbelandingattheSchiaparellicrater,3200kilometersaway.Infact,

theirMAVisalreadythere.IknowbecauseIwatchedMartinezlandit.It takeseighteenmonthsfor theMAVtomake its fuel,so it’s thefirst thing

NASAsendsalong.Sendingit forty-eightmonthsearlygives itplentyofextratimeincasefuelreactionsgoslowerthanexpected.Butmuchmoreimportantly,itmeansaprecisionsoftlandingcanbedoneremotelybyapilotinorbit.Directremoteoperation fromHouston isn’tanoption; they’reanywhere fromfour totwentylight-minutesaway.Ares4’sMAVspentelevenmonthsgettingtoMars.Itleftbeforeusandgot

herearoundthesametimewedid.Asexpected,Martinezlandeditbeautifully.ItwasoneofthelastthingswedidbeforepilingintoourMDVandheadingtothesurface.Ahh,thegoodolddays,whenIhadacrewwithme.I’m lucky. Thirty-two hundred km isn’t that bad. It could have been up to

10,000 km away. And because I’m on the flattest part ofMars, the first 650kilometers is nice, smooth terrain (YayAcidalia Planitia!) but the rest of it isnasty,rugged,crater-pockedhell.Obviously, I’llhave tousea rover.Andguesswhat?Theyweren’tdesigned

formassiveoverlandjourneys.This is going to be a research effort, with a bunch of experimentation. I’ll

havetobecomemyownlittleNASA,figuringouthowtoexplorefarfromtheHab.ThegoodnewsisIhavelotsoftimetofigureitout.Almostfouryears.Somestuff isobvious. I’llneed tousea rover. It’ll takea long time, so I’ll

needtobringsupplies.I’llneedtorechargeenroute,androversdon’thavesolarcells, so I’llneed to steal some from theHab’s solar farm.During the trip I’llneedtobreathe,eat,anddrink.Luckyforme,thetechspecsforeverythingarerighthereinthecomputer.

I’llneedtotrickoutarover.Basicallyit’llhavetobeamobileHab.I’llpickRover2asmytarget.Wehaveacertainbond,afterIspenttwodaysinitduringtheGreatHydrogenScareofSol37.There’s toomuch shit to think about all at once. So for now, I’ll just think

aboutpower.Our mission had a 10-kilometer operational radius. Knowing we wouldn’t

takestraight-linepaths,NASAdesignedtheroverstogo35kilometersonafullcharge.Thatpresumesflat,reasonableterrain.Eachroverhasa9000-watt-hourbattery.Stepone is to lootRover1’sbatteryand install it inRover2.Ta-daa! I just

doubledmyfull-chargerange.There’sjustonecomplication.Heating.Part of the battery power goes to heating the rover. Mars is really cold.

Normally, we were expected to do all EVAs in under five hours. But I’ll beliving in it twenty-four and a half hours a day. According to the specs, theheating equipment soaks up400watts.Keeping it onwould eat up9800watthoursperday.Overhalfmypowersupply,everyday!ButIdohaveafreesourceofheat:me.Acouplemillionyearsofevolution

gave me “warm-blooded” technology. I can just turn off the heater and wearlayers.Theroverhasgoodinsulation,too.It’llhavetobeenough;Ineedeverybitofpower.Accordingtomyboringmath,movingtherovereats200watthoursofjuice

to go 1 kilometer, so using the full 18,000 watt hours for motion (minus anegligible amount for computer, life support, etc.) gets me 90 kilometers oftravel.Nowwe’retalkin’.I’llneveractuallyget90kilometersonasinglecharge.I’llhavehillstodeal

with, and rough terrain, sand, etc. But it’s a good ballpark. It tellsme that itwouldtakeatleast35daysoftraveltogettoAres4.It’llprobablybemorelike50.Butthat’splausible,atleast.At therover’sblazing25kph topspeed, it’ll takemethreeandahalfhours

beforeIrunthebatterydown.Icandriveintwilight,andsavethesunnypartofthedayforcharging.ThistimeofyearIgetaboutthirteenhoursoflight.HowmanysolarcellswillIhavetopilferfromtheHab’sfarm?ThankstothefinetaxpayersofAmerica,Ihaveover100squaremetersofthe

most expensive solar paneling ever made. It has an astounding 10.2 percentefficiency,which isgoodbecauseMarsdoesn’tgetasmuchsunlightasEarth.Only500to700wattspersquaremeter(comparedtothe1400Earthgets).

Long story short: I need to bring twenty-eight square meters of solar cell.That’sfourteenpanels.Icanputtwostacksofsevenontheroof.They’llstickoutovertheedges,but

as longas they’resecure, I’mhappy.Everyday,afterdriving, I’llspread themoutthen…waitallday.Manit’llbedull.Wellit’sastart.Tomorrow’smission:transferRover1’sbatterytoRover2.

LOGENTRY:SOL64

Sometimesthingsareeasy,andsometimesthey’renot.GettingthebatteryoutofRover1was easy. I removed twoclampson theundercarriage and it droppedright out. The cabling was easy to detach, too, just a couple of complicatedplugs.AttachingittoRover2,however,isanotherstory.There’snowheretoputit!Thethingishuge.Iwasbarelyabletodragit.Andthat’sinMarsgravity.It’s just too big. There’s no room in the undercarriage for a second one.

There’snoroomontheroof,either.That’swherethesolarcellswillgo.There’snoroominsidethecabin,anditwouldn’tfitthroughtheairlockanyway.Butfearnot,Ifoundasolution.Foremergenciescompletelyunrelatedtothisone,NASAprovidedsixsquare

metersofextraHabcanvasandsomereallyimpressiveresin.Thesamekindofresin,infact,thatsavedmylifeonSol6(thepatchkitIusedontheholeinmysuit).In theeventofaHabbreach,everyonewouldrunto theairlocks.Procedure

wastolettheHabpopratherthandietryingtopreventit.Then,we’dsuitupandassessthedamage.Oncewefoundthebreach,we’dsealitwiththesparecanvasandresin.Thenreinflateandwe’regoodasnew.Thesixsquaremetersofsparecanvaswasaconvenientonebysixmeters.I

cut10-centimeter-widestrips,thenusedthemtomakeasortofharness.Iusedtheresinandstrapstomaketwo10-metercircumferenceloops.ThenI

putabigpatchofcanvasoneachend.Inowhadpoorman’ssaddlebagsformyrover.ThisisgettingmoreandmoreWagonTraineveryday.Theresinsetsalmost instantly.But itgetsstrongerifyouwaitanhour.SoI

did.ThenIsuitedupandheadedouttotherover.Idraggedthebatterytothesideoftheroverandloopedoneendoftheharness

aroundit.ThenIthrewtheotherendovertheroof.Ontheotherside,Ifilleditwith rocks.When the twoweightswere roughly equal, Iwas able to pull therocksdownandbringthebatteryup.Yay!IunpluggedRover2’sbatteryandpluggedinRover1’s.ThenIwentthrough

theairlocktotheroverandcheckedallsystems.Everythingwasa-okay.

Idrovetheroveraroundabittomakesuretheharnesswassecure.Ifoundafewlargishrocks todriveover, just toshake thingsup.Theharnessheld.Hellyeah.Forashorttime,Iwonderedhowtosplicethesecondbattery’sleadsintothe

mainpowersupply.Myconclusionwas“Fuckit.”There’snoneedtohaveacontinuouspowersupply.WhenBattery1runsout,

Icangetout,unplugBattery1,andpluginBattery2.Whynot?It’saten-minuteEVA,onceperday.I’dhavetoswapbatteriesagainwhenI’mrechargingthem,butagain,sowhat?I spent the restof thedaysweepingoff the solarcell farm.Soon, I shallbe

lootingit.

LOGENTRY:SOL65

Thesolarcellswerealoteasiertomanagethanthebattery.They’re thin, light, and just lying around on the ground. And I had one

additionalbonus:Iwastheonewhosetthemupinthefirstplace.Well,okay.Itwasn’tjustme.VogelandIworkedtogetheronit.Andboydid

wedrillonit.Wespentalmostanentireweekdrillingonthesolararrayalone.Thenwedrilledmorewhenevertheyfiguredwehadsparetime.Thearraywasmission-critical. If we broke the cells or rendered them useless, the Habwouldn’tbeabletomakepower,andthemissionwouldend.Youmightwonderwhat therestof thecrewwasdoingwhileweassembled

thearray.TheyweresettinguptheHab.Remember,everythinginmygloriouskingdomcamehereinboxes.WehadtosetituponSols1and2.Eachsolarcellisonalightweightlatticethatholdsitata14-degreeangle.I’ll

admit I don’t knowwhy it’s a 14-degree angle. Something aboutmaximizingsolar energy. Anyway, removing the cells was simple, and theHab can sparethem.Withthereducedloadofonlysupportingonehumaninsteadofsix,a14percentenergyproductionlossisirrelevant.Thenitwastimetostackthemontherover.I considered removing the rock sample container. It’s nothing more than a

largecanvasbagattachedtotheroof.Waytoosmalltoholdthesolarcells.ButaftersomethoughtIleftitthere,figuringitwouldprovideagoodcushion.Thecellsstackedwell(theyweremadeto,fortransporttoMars),andthetwo

stackssatnicelyontheroof.Theyhungovertheleftandrightedges,butIwon’tbegoingthroughanytunnels,soIdon’tcare.WithsomemoreabuseoftheemergencyHabmaterial,Imadestrapsandtied

thecellsdown.Theroverhasexternalhandlesnearthefrontandback.They’retheretohelpusloadrocksontheroof.Theymadeperfectanchorpointsforthestraps.Istoodbackandadmiredmywork.Hey,Iearnedit.Itwasn’tevennoonandI

wasdone.IcamebacktotheHab,hadsomelunch,andworkedonmycropsfortherest

ofthesol.It’sbeenthirty-ninesolssinceIplantedthepotatoes(whichisaboutfortyEarthdays),anditwastimetoreapandresow.TheygrewevenbetterthanIhadexpected.Marshasnoinsects,parasites,or

blights to deal with, and the Hab maintains perfect growing temperature and

moistureatalltimes.Theyweresmallcomparedtothetatersyou’dusuallyeat,butthat’sfine.AllI

wantedwasenoughtosupportgrowingnewplants.Idug themup,beingcareful to leave theirplants alive.Then I cut themup

intosmallpieceswithoneeyeeachandreseededthemintonewdirt.Iftheykeepgrowingthiswell,I’llbeabletolastagoodlongtimehere.Afterall thatphysical labor, Ideservedabreak.I rifled throughJohanssen’s

computertodayandfoundanendlesssupplyofdigitalbooks.Lookslikeshe’sabigfanofAgathaChristie.TheBeatles,Christie…Iguessshe’sanAnglophileorsomething.IrememberlikingHerculePoirotTVspecialsbackwhenIwasakid.I’llstart

withTheMysteriousAffairatStyles.Lookslikethat’sthefirstone.

LOGENTRY:SOL66

Thetimehascome(ominousmusicalcrescendo)forsomemissions!NASA gets to name their missions after gods and stuff, so why can’t I?

Henceforth, rover experimental missions will be “Sirius” missions. Get it?Dogs?Wellifyoudon’t,fuckyou.Sirius1willbetomorrow.The mission: Start with fully charged batteries and solar cells on the roof,

driveuntilIrunoutofpower,andseehowfarIget.Iwon’tbean idiot. I’mnotdrivingdirectlyawayfromtheHab. I’lldrivea

half-kilometerstretch,backandforth.I’llbewithinashortwalkofhomeatalltimes.Tonight, I’ll chargeupbothbatteries so I canbe ready fora little testdrive

tomorrow.Iestimatethreeandahalfhoursofdriving,soI’llneedtobringfreshCO2filters.And,withtheheateroff,I’llwearthreelayersofclothes.

LOGENTRY:SOL67

Sirius1iscomplete!Moreaccurately,Sirius1wasabortedafteronehour.Iguessyoucouldcallit

a“failure,”butIprefertheterm“learningexperience.”Thingsstartedoutfine.IdrovetoaniceflatspotakilometerfromtheHab,

thenstartedgoingbackandforthovera500-meterstretch.I quickly realized this would be a crappy test. After a few laps, I had

compressed the soil enough to have a solid path. Nice, hard ground, whichmakesforabnormallyhighenergyefficiency.Nothinglikeitwouldbeonalongtrip.SoIshookitupabit.Idrovearoundrandomly,makingsuretostaywithina

kilometeroftheHab.Amuchmorerealistictest.Afteranhour,thingsstartedtogetcold.AndImeanreallycold.Therover’salwayscoldwhenyoufirstgetinit.Whenyouhaven’tdisabled

theheater,itwarmsuprightaway.Iexpectedittobecold,butJesusChrist!Iwasfineforawhile.Myownbodyheatplusthreelayersofclothingkeptme

warm, and the rover’s insulation is top-notch.The heat that escapedmybodyjustwarmeduptheinterior.Butthere’snosuchthingasperfectinsulation,andeventuallytheheatlefttothegreatoutdoors,whileIgotcolderandcolder.Withinanhour,Iwaschatteringandnumb.Enoughwasenough.There’sno

wayIcoulddoalongtriplikethis.Turningtheheateron,IdrovestraightbacktotheHab.Once I got home, I sulked for a while. All my brilliant plans foiled by

thermodynamics.Damnyou,Entropy!I’m in abind.Thedamnheaterwill eat halfmybatterypower everyday. I

couldturnitdown,Iguess.Bealittlecoldbutnotfreezingtodeath.EventhenI’dstillloseatleastaquarter.Thiswill require some thought. Ihave toaskmyself…WhatwouldHercule

Poirotdo?I’llhavetoputmy“littlegraycells”toworkontheproblem.

LOGENTRY:SOL68

Well,shit.I cameupwitha solution,but…rememberwhen Iburned rocket fuel in the

Hab?This’llbemoredangerous.I’mgoingtousetheRTG.TheRTG (radioisotope thermoelectric generator) is a bigboxof plutonium.

But not the kind used in nuclear bombs.No, no.This plutonium iswaymoredangerous!Plutonium-238isanincrediblyunstableisotope.It’ssoradioactivethatitwill

getredhotallbyitself.Asyoucanimagine,amaterialthatcanliterallyfryaneggwithradiationiskindofdangerous.TheRTGhousestheplutonium,catchestheradiationintheformofheat,and

turns it into electricity. It’s not a reactor. The radiation can’t be increased ordecreased.It’sapurelynaturalprocesshappeningattheatomiclevel.As long ago as the 1960s, NASA began using RTGs to power unmanned

probes.Theyhavelotsofadvantagesoversolarpower.They’renotaffectedbystorms; they work day or night; they’re entirely internal, so you don’t needdelicatesolarcellsalloveryourprobe.ButtheyneverusedlargeRTGsonmannedmissionsuntiltheAresProgram.Whynot?Itshouldbeprettydamnedobviouswhynot!Theydidn’twant to

putastronautsnexttoaglowinghotballofradioactivedeath!I’mexaggeratingalittle.Theplutoniumisinsideabunchofpellets,eachone

sealedand insulated topreventradiation leakage,even if theoutercontainer isbreached.SofortheAresProgram,theytooktherisk.An Ares mission is all about the MAV. It’s the single most important

component.It’soneofthefewsystemsthatcan’tbereplacedorworkedaround.It’stheonlycomponentthatcausesacompletemissionscrubifit’snotworking.Solarcellsaregreat in theshort term,and they’regood for the long term if

youhavehumansaroundtocleanthem.ButtheMAVsitsaloneforyearsquietlymaking fuel, then just kind of hangs out until its crew arrives. Even doingnothing,itneedspower,soNASAcanmonitoritremotelyandrunself-checks.The prospect of scrubbing a mission because a solar cell got dirty was

unacceptable.Theyneededamorereliablesourceofpower.SotheMAVcomesequipped with an RTG. It has 2.6 kilograms of plutonium-238, which makesalmost1500wattsofheat.Itcanturnthatinto100wattsofelectricity.TheMAV

runsonthatuntilthecrewarrive.One hundred watts isn’t enough to keep the heater going, but I don’t care

about theelectricaloutput. Iwant theheat.A1500-wattheater is sowarmI’llhavetotearinsulationoutoftherovertokeepitfromgettingtoohot.As soonas the roverswereunstowedandactivated,CommanderLewishad

the joy of disposing of the RTG. She detached it from theMAV, drove fourkilometers away, andburied it.However safe itmaybe, it’s still a radioactivecoreandNASAdidn’twantittooclosetotheirastronauts.Themissionparametersdon’tgiveaspecificlocationtodumptheRTG.Just

“atleastfourkilometersaway.”SoI’llhavetofindit.Ihave two thingsworking forme.First, Iwasassemblingsolarpanelswith

VogelwhenCommanderLewisdroveoff,andIsawsheheadedduesouth.Also,sheplantedathree-meterpolewithabrightgreenflagoverwheresheburiedit.GreenshowsupextremelywellagainsttheMartianterrain.It’smadetowardusoff,incasewegetlostonaroverEVAlateron.Somyplan is:Head south fourkilometers, then searcharound till I see the

greenflag.HavingrenderedRover1unusable, I’llhave tousemymutantroverfor the

trip.Icanmakeausefultestmissionofit.I’llseehowwellthebatteryharnessholdsuptoarealjourney,andhowwellthesolarcellsdostrappedtotheroof.I’llcallitSirius2.

LOGENTRY:SOL69

I’mnostrangertoMars.I’vebeenherealongtime.ButI’veneverbeenoutofsightoftheHabbeforetoday.Youwouldn’tthinkthatwouldmakeadifference,butitdoes.AsImademywaytoward theRTG’sburialsite, ithitme:Mars isabarren

wastelandand I amcompletelyalonehere. I alreadyknew that,of course.Butthere’sadifferencebetweenknowingitandreallyexperiencingit.Allaroundmetherewasnothingbutdust,rocks,andendlessemptydesertinalldirections.Theplanet’sfamousredcolorisfromironoxidecoatingeverything.Soit’snotjustadesert.It’sadesertsooldit’sliterallyrusting.TheHabismyonlyhintofcivilization,andseeingitdisappearmademeway

moreuncomfortablethanIliketoadmit.Iputthosethoughtsbehindmebyconcentratingonwhatwasinfrontofme.I

foundtheRTGrightwhereitwassupposedtobe,fourkilometersduesouthoftheHab.Itwasn’thardtofind.CommanderLewishadburieditatopasmallhill.She

probablywantedtomakesureeveryonecouldseetheflag,anditworkedgreat!Exceptinsteadofavoidingit,Ibeelinedtoitanddugitup.Notexactlywhatshewasgoingfor.Itwasalargecylinderwithheat-sinksallaroundit.Icouldfeelthewarmthit

gaveoffeven throughmysuit’sgloves.That’s reallydisconcerting.Especiallywhenyouknowtherootcauseoftheheatisradiation.Nopointinputtingitontheroof;myplanwastohaveitinthecabinanyway.

SoIbroughtitinwithme,turnedofftheheater,thendrovebacktotheHab.Inthetenminutesittooktogethome,evenwiththeheateroff,theinteriorof

theroverbecameanuncomfortablyhot37°C.TheRTGwoulddefinitelybeabletokeepmewarm.Thetripalsoprovedthatmyriggingworked.Thesolarcellsandextrabattery

stayedbeautifullyinplacewhiletraversingeightkilometersofrandomterrain.IdeclareSirius2tobeasuccessfulmission!Ispent therestof thedayvandalizingthe interiorof therover.Thepressure

compartmentismadeofcarboncomposite.Justinsidethatisinsulation,whichiscovered by hard plastic. I used a sophisticatedmethod to remove sections ofplastic (hammer), then carefully removed the solid foam insulation (hammeragain).

Aftertearingoutsomeinsulation,IsuitedupandtooktheRTGoutside.Soon,the rover cooled down again, and I brought it back in. I watched as thetemperatureroseslowly.Nowherenearasfastasithadonmytripbackfromtheburialsite.I cautiously removedmore insulation (hammer) and checked again.After a

fewmore cycles of this, I had enough insulation torn out that theRTG couldbarelykeepupwithit.Infact,itwasalosingbattle.Overtime,heatwillslowlyleachout.That’sfine.Icanturnontheheaterforshortburstswhennecessary.I brought the insulation pieceswithme back into theHab.Using advanced

constructiontechniques(ducttape),Ireassembledsomeofthemintoasquare.Ifigureifthingsevergetreallycold,Icantapethattoabarepatchintherover,andtheRTGwillbewinningthe“heatfight.”Tomorrow,Sirius3(whichisjustSirius1again,butwithoutfreezing).

LOGENTRY:SOL70

Today,Iwritetoyoufromtherover.I’mhalfwaythroughSirius3andthingsaregoingwell.I set out at first light and drove laps around the Hab, trying to stay on

untouchedground.The first battery lasted just under twohours.After a quickEVAtoswitchthecables,Igotbacktodriving.Whenallwassaidanddone,Ihaddriven81kilometersin3hoursand27minutes.That’sverygood!Mindyou,thelandaroundtheHabisreallyflat,asisallof

AcidaliaPlanitia.IhavenoideawhatmyefficiencywouldbeonthenastierlandenroutetoAres4.Thesecondbatterystillhadalittlejuiceleft,butIcan’tjustrunitdownallthe

waybeforeIstop;remember,Ineedlifesupportwhilerecharging.TheCO2getsabsorbedthroughachemicalprocess,butifthefanthatpushesitisn’tworking,I’llchoke.Theoxygenpumpisalsokindofimportant.After my drive, I set up the solar cells. It was hard work; last time I had

Vogel’shelp.Theyaren’theavy,but they’re awkward.After settinguphalfofthem,IfiguredoutIcoulddragthemratherthancarrythem,andthatspedthingsup.NowI’mjustwaitingforthebatteriestorecharge.I’mbored,soI’mupdating

the log. Ihaveall thePoirotbooks inmycomputer.That’llhelp. It’sgoing totaketwelvehourstorecharge,afterall.What’s that, you say?Twelve hours iswrong? I said thirteen hours earlier?

Well,myfriend,letmesetyoustraight.TheRTGisagenerator.It’sapaltryamountofpower,comparedtowhatthe

roverconsumes,butit’snotnothing.It’sonehundredwatts.It’llcutanhouroffmytotalrechargetime.Whynotuseit?IwonderwhatNASAwouldthinkaboutmefuckingwiththeRTGlikethis.

They’d probably hide under their desks and cuddle with their slide rules forcomfort.

LOGENTRY:SOL71

Aspredicted,ittooktwelvehourstochargethebatteriestofull.Icamestraighthomeassoonastheyweredone.TimetomakeplansforSirius4.AndIthinkit’llbeamultidayfieldtrip.Looks like power and battery recharging are solved. Food’s not a problem;

there’splentyofspacetostorethings.Water’seveneasierthanfood.Ineedtwolitersperdaytobecomfortable.WhenIdomytriptoAres4forreal,I’llneedtobringtheoxygenator.Butit’s

bigandIdon’twanttoscrewwithitrightnow.SoI’llrelyonO2andCO2filtersforSirius4.CO2 isn’t a problem. I started this grand adventurewith1500hoursofCO2

filters, plus another 720 for emergency use. All systems use standard filters(Apollo13taughtusimportantlessons).Sincethen,I’veused131hoursoffilteronvariousEVAs.Ihave2089left.Eighty-sevendays’worth.Plenty.Oxygen’salittletrickier.Theroverwasdesignedtosupportthreepeoplefor

twodays,plussomereserveforsafety.SoitsO2 tankscanholdenoughto lastmesevendays.Notenough.Mars has almost no atmospheric pressure. The inside of the rover has one

atmosphere.Sotheoxygentanksareontheinside(lesspressuredifferential todealwith).Whydoesthatmatter?ItmeansIcanbringalongotheroxygentanks,andequalizethemwiththerover’stankswithouthavingtodoanEVA.So today, I detached one of theHab’s two 25-liter liquid oxygen tanks and

brought it into the rover. According to NASA, a human needs 588 liters ofoxygenperday to live.Compressed liquidO2 is about1000 timesasdenseasgaseousO2inacomfortableatmosphere.Longstoryshort:WiththeHabtank,IhaveenoughO2tolast49days.That’llbeplenty.Sirius4willbeatwenty-daytrip.Thatmayseemabitlong,butIhaveaspecificgoalinmind.Besides,mytrip

toAres4willbeatleastfortydays.Thisisagoodscalemodel.WhileI’maway,theHabcantakecareofitself,butthepotatoesareanissue.

I’llsaturate thegroundwithmostof thewaterIhave.Then, I’lldeactivate theatmospheric regulator, so it doesn’t pullwaterout of the air. It’ll behumid ashell, andwaterwill condense on every surface.That’ll keep the potatoeswellwateredwhileI’maway.

AbiggerproblemisCO2.Thepotatoesneedtobreathe. Iknowwhatyou’rethinking. “Mark, old chap! You produce carbon dioxide! It’s all part of themajesticcircleofnature!”Theproblemis:WherewillIputit?Sure,IexhaleCO2witheverybreath,but

Idon’thaveanywaytostoreit.Icouldturnofftheoxygenatorandatmosphericregulatorand just fill theHabwithmybreathover time.ButCO2 isdeadly tome.Ineedtoreleaseabunchatonceandrunaway.RemembertheMAVfuelplant?ItcollectsCO2fromtheMartianatmosphere.

A10-liter tankofcompressed liquidCO2,vented into theHab,willbeenoughCO2todothetrick.That’lltakelessthanadaytocreate.So that’s everything. Once I vent the CO2 into the Hab, I’ll turn off the

atmospheric regulator and oxygenator, dump a ton ofwater on the crops, andheadout.Sirius4.Ahugestepforwardinmyroverresearch.AndIcanstarttomorrow.

CHAPTER8

“HELLO,ANDthankyouforjoiningus,”CathyWarnersaidtothecamera.“TodayonCNN’sMarkWatney Report: Several EVAs over the past few days…what dotheymean?WhatprogresshasNASAmadeonarescueoption?AndhowwillthisaffecttheAres4preparations?“Joining us today is Dr. Venkat Kapoor, director of Mars operations for

NASA.Dr.Kapoor,thankyouforcoming.”“Apleasuretobehere,Cathy,”Venkatsaid.“Dr.Kapoor,”Cathysaid,“MarkWatneyisthemost-watchedmaninthesolar

system,wouldn’tyousay?”Venkatnodded.“CertainlythemostwatchedbyNASA.Wehavealltwelveof

ourMartiansatellitestakingpictureswheneverhissite’sinview.TheEuropeanSpaceAgencyhasbothoftheirsdoingthesame.”“Alltold,howoftendoyougettheseimages?”“Every fewminutes. Sometimes there’s a gap, based on the satellite orbits.

Butit’senoughthatwecantrackallhisEVAactivities.”“TellusabouttheselatestEVAs.”“Well,”Venkatsaid,“itlookslikehe’spreparingRover2foralongtrip.On

Sol64,hetookthebatteryfromtheotherroverandattacheditwithahomemadesling. The next day, he detached fourteen solar cells and stacked them on therover’sroof.”“Andthenhetookalittledrive,didn’the?”Cathyprompted.“Yes he did. Sort of aimlessly for an hour, then back to the Hab. He was

probably testing it.Next timewe sawhimwas twodays later,whenhedrovefourkilometersaway,thenback.Anotherincrementaltest,wethink.Then,overthepastcoupleofdays,he’sbeenstockingitupwithsupplies.”“Hmm,”Cathysaid,“mostanalyststhinkMark’sonlyhopeofrescueistoget

totheAres4site.Doyouthinkhe’scometothesameconclusion?”“Probably,”Venkatsaid.“Hedoesn’tknowwe’rewatching.Fromhispointof

view,Ares4ishisonlyhope.”“Doyouthinkhe’splanningtogosoon?Heseemstobegettingreadyfora

trip.”“I hope not,”Venkat said. “There’s nothing at the site other than theMAV.

Noneoftheotherpresupplies.Itwouldbeaverylong,verydangeroustrip,andhe’dbeleavingthesafetyoftheHabbehind.”

“Whywouldheriskit?”“Communication,”Venkatsaid.“OncehereachestheMAV,hecouldcontact

us.”“Sothatwouldbeagoodthing,wouldn’tit?”“Communicationwould be agreat thing. But traversing thirty-two hundred

kilometers toAres4 is incrediblydangerous.We’d ratherhe stayedput. Ifwecouldtalktohim,we’dcertainlytellhimthat.”“Hecan’tstayputforever,right?Eventuallyhe’llneedtogettotheMAV.”“Not necessarily,”Venkat said. “JPL is experimentingwithmodifications to

theMDVsoitcanmakeabriefoverlandflightafterlanding.”“I’dheardthatideawasrejectedasbeingtoodangerous,”Cathysaid.“Theirfirstproposalwas,yes.Sincethen,they’vebeenworkingonsaferways

todoit.”“Withonly threeandahalfyearsbeforeAres4’sscheduled launch, is there

enoughtimetomakeandtestmodificationstotheMDV?”“I can’t answer that for sure. But remember, wemade a lunar lander from

scratchinsevenyears.”“Excellentpoint.”Cathysmiled.“Sowhatarehisoddsrightnow?”“No idea,”Venkat said. “Butwe’re going to do everythingwe can to bring

himhomealive.”

•••

MINDY GLANCED nervously around the conference room. She’d never felt sothoroughly outranked in her life. Dr. Venkat Kapoor, who was four levels ofmanagementaboveher,sattoherleft.Next to himwasBruceNg, the director of JPL.He’d flown all theway to

HoustonfromPasadenajustforthismeeting.Neveronetoletprecioustimegotowaste,he typedfuriouslyonhis laptop.ThedarkbagsunderhiseyesmadeMindywonderjusthowoverworkedhetrulywas.MitchHenderson,theflightdirectorforAres3,swiveledbackandforthinhis

chair,awirelessearpieceinhisear.Itfedhimareal-timestreamofallthecommchatterfromMissionControl.Hewasn’tonshift,buthewaskeptapprisedatalltimes.AnnieMontrose entered the conference room, texting as shewalked.Never

takinghereyesoffherphone,shedeftlynavigatedaroundtheedgeoftheroom,avoidingpeopleandchairs,andsatinherusualspot.Mindyfeltapangofenvyas she watched the director of media relations. She was everything Mindywanted to be. Confident, high-ranking, beautiful, and universally respectedwithinNASA.“How’dIdotoday?”Venkatasked.“Eeeh,”Annie said, puttingher phone away. “You shouldn’t say things like

‘bringhimhomealive.’Itremindspeoplehemightdie.”“Thinkthey’regoingtoforgetthat?”“Youaskedmyopinion.Don’tlikeit?Gofuckyourself.”“You’resuchadelicateflower,Annie.How’dyouendupNASA’sdirectorof

mediarelations?”“Beatsthefuckoutofme,”Anniesaid.“Guys,”Bruce said, “I need to catch a flight back to LA in three hours. Is

Teddycomingorwhat?”“Quitbitching,Bruce,”Anniesaid.“Noneofuswanttobehere.”Mitch turned the volumedownon his earpiece and facedMindy. “Who are

you,again?”“Um,”Mindysaid,“I’mMindyPark.IworkinSatCon.”“Youadirectororsomething?”“No,IjustworkinSatCon.I’manobody.”VenkatlookedtoMitch.“IputherinchargeoftrackingWatney.Shegetsus

theimagery.”“Huh,”saidMitch.“NotthedirectorofSatCon?”“Bob’sgotmoretodealwiththanjustMars.Mindy’shandlingalltheMartian

satellites,andkeepsthempointedatMark.”“WhyMindy?”Mitchasked.“Shenoticedhewasaliveinthefirstplace.”“Shegetsapromotion’causeshewasinthehotseatwhentheimagerycame

through?”“No,”Venkat frowned,“shegetsapromotion’causeshefiguredouthewas

alive.Stopbeingajerk,Mitch.You’remakingherfeelbad.”Mitchraisedhiseyebrows.“Didn’tthinkofthat.Sorry,Mindy.”Mindylookedatthetableandmanagedtosay,“’kay.”Teddyenteredtheroom.“SorryI’mlate.”Hetookhisseatandpulledseveral

folders from his briefcase. Stacking them neatly, he opened the top one andsquaredthepageswithin.“Let’sgetstarted.Venkat,what’sWatney’sstatus?”“Aliveandwell,”Venkatsaid.“Nochangefrommye-mailearliertoday.”“WhatabouttheRTG?Doesthepublicknowaboutthatyet?”Teddyasked.Annieleanedforward.“Sofar,sogood,”shesaid.“Theimagesarepublic,but

wehavenoobligationtotellthemouranalysis.Nobodyhasfigureditoutyet.”“Whydidhedigitup?”“Heat,Ithink,”Venkatsaid.“Hewantstomaketheroverdolongtrips.Ituses

alotofenergykeepingwarm.TheRTGcanheatuptheinteriorwithoutsoakingbatterypower.It’sagoodidea,really.”“Howdangerousisit?”Teddyasked.“As long as the container’s intact, no danger at all. Even if it cracks open,

he’llbeokayifthepelletsinsidedon’tbreak.Butifthepelletsbreak,too,he’sadeadman.”“Let’shopethatdoesn’thappen,”Teddysaid.“JPL,howaretheMDVplans

comingalong?”“Wecameupwithaplanalongtimeago,”Brucesaid.“Yourejectedit.”“Bruce,”Teddycautioned.Bruce sighed. “TheMDVwasn’tmade for liftoff and lateral flight.Packing

more fuel in doesn’t help.We’d need a bigger engine and don’t have time toinventone.SoweneedtolightentheMDV.Wehaveanideaforthat.“TheMDVcanbeitsnormalweightonprimarydescent.Ifwemadetheheat

shieldandouterhulldetachable,theycouldditchalotofweightafterlandingatAres 3, and have a lighter ship for the traverse toAres 4.We’re running thenumbersnow.”“Keepmeposted,”Teddysaid.HeturnedtoMindy.“MissPark,welcometo

thebigleagues.”“Sir,”Mindysaid.Shetriedtoignorethelumpinherthroat.“What’sthebiggestgapincoveragewehaveonWatneyrightnow?”“Um,” Mindy said. “Once every forty-one hours, we’ll have a seventeen-

minutegap.Theorbitsworkoutthatway.”“Youhadanimmediateanswer,”Teddysaid.“Good.Ilikeitwhenpeopleare

organized.”“Thankyou,sir.”“Iwant that gap down to fourminutes,” Teddy said. “I’m giving you total

authorityoversatellitetrajectoriesandorbitaladjustments.Makeithappen.”“Yes,sir,”Mindysaid,withnoideahowtodoit.TeddylookedtoMitch.“Mitch,youre-mailsaidyouhadsomethingurgent?”“Yeah,”Mitchsaid.“HowlongarewegonnakeepthisfromtheAres3crew?

TheyallthinkWatney’sdead.It’sahugedrainonmorale.”TeddylookedtoVenkat.“Mitch,”Venkatsaid.“Wediscussedthis—”“No,youdiscussedit,”Mitchinterrupted.“Theythinktheylostacrewmate.

They’redevastated.”“Andwhentheyfindouttheyabandonedacrewmate?”Venkatasked.“Will

theyfeelbetterthen?”Mitch poked the table with his finger. “They deserve to know. You think

CommanderLewiscan’thandlethetruth?”“It’samatterofmorale,”Venkatsaid.“Theycanconcentrateongettinghome

—”“Imakethatcall,”Mitchsaid.“I’mtheonewhodecideswhat’sbestfor the

crew.AndIsaywebringthemuptospeed.”Afterafewmomentsofsilence,alleyesturnedtoTeddy.He thought for amoment. “Sorry,Mitch, I’mwithVenkat on this one,” he

said.“Butas soonaswecomeupwithaplan for rescue,wecan tellHermes.Thereneedstobesomehope,orthere’snopointintellingthem.”“Bullshit,”Mitchgrumbled,crossinghisarms.“Totalbullshit.”“Iknowyou’reupset,”Teddysaidcalmly,“We’llmakeitright.Justassoon

aswehavesomeideahowtosaveWatney.”Teddyletafewsecondsofquietpassbeforemovingon.“Okay,JPL’sontherescueoption,”hesaidwithanodtowardBruce.“Butit

wouldbepartofAres4.Howdoeshestayalivetillthen?Venkat?”Venkat opened a folder and glanced at the paperwork inside. “I had every

teamcheckanddouble-check the longevityof their systems.We’reprettysurethe Hab can keep working for four years. Especially with a human occupantfixingproblemsas theyarise.But there’snowayaround the food issue.He’llstartstarvinginayear.Wehavetosendhimsupplies.Simpleasthat.”“WhataboutanAres4presupply?”saidTeddy.“LanditatAres3instead.”“That’s what we’re thinking, yeah,” Venkat confirmed. “Problem is, the

originalplanwastolaunchpresuppliesayearfromnow.They’renotreadyyet.

“It takes eight months to get a probe to Mars in the best of times. ThepositionsofEarthandMarsrightnow…it’snotthebestoftimes.Wefigurewecangetthereinninemonths.Presuminghe’srationinghisfood,he’sgotenoughto last three hundred and fifty more days. That means we need to build apresupplyinthreemonths.JPLhasn’tevenstartedyet.”“That’ll be tight,”Bruce said. “Making a presupply is a six-month process.

We’resetuptopipelineabunchofthematonce,nottomakeoneinahurry.”“Sorry,Bruce,”Teddysaid.“Iknowwe’reaskingalot,butyouhavetofinda

way.”“We’llfindaway,”Brucesaid.“ButtheOTalonewillbeanightmare.”“Getstarted.I’llfindyouthemoney.”“There’salsothebooster,”Venkatsaid.“TheonlywaytogetaprobetoMars

withtheplanetsintheircurrentpositionsistospendabutt-loadoffuel.Weonlyhaveoneboostercapableofdoingthat.TheDeltaIXthat’sonthepadrightnowfortheEagleEye3Saturnprobe.We’llhavetostealthat.ItalkedtoULA,andtheyjustcan’tmakeanotherboosterintime.”“TheEagleEye3 teamwillbepissed,butokay,”saidTeddy.“Wecandelay

theirmissionifJPLgetsthepayloaddoneintime.”Brucerubbedhiseyes.“We’lldoourbest.”“He’llstarvetodeathifyoudon’t,”Teddysaid.

•••

VENKATSIPPEDhiscoffeeandfrownedathiscomputer.Amonthagoitwouldhavebeenunthinkable todrinkcoffeeatninep.m.Nowitwasnecessary fuel.Shiftschedules, fund allocations, project juggling, out-and-out looting of otherprojects…he’dneverpulledsomanystuntsinhislife.“NASA’salargeorganization,”hetyped.“Itdoesn’tdealwithsuddenchange

well.Theonlyreasonwe’regettingawaywithitisthedesperatecircumstances.Everyone’s pulling together to save Mark Watney, with no interdepartmentalsquabbling.Ican’ttellyouhowrarethatis.Eventhen,thisisgoingtocosttensofmillions,maybehundredsofmillionsofdollars.TheMDVmodificationsalonearean entire project that’s being staffedup.Hopefully, thepublic interestwillmakeyourjobeasier.Weappreciateyourcontinuedsupport,Congressman,andhopeyoucanswaythecommitteetowardgrantingustheemergencyfundingweneed.”

Hewas interruptedbyaknockathisdoor.Lookingup,he sawMindy.SheworesweatsandaT-shirt,herhairinasloppyponytail.Fashiontendedtosufferwhenworkhoursranlong.“Sorrytobotheryou,”Mindysaid.“Nobother,”Venkatsaid.“Icoulduseabreak.What’sup?”“He’sonthemove,”shesaid.Venkatslouchedinhischair.“Anychanceit’satestdrive?”She shook her head. “He drove straightaway from the Hab for almost two

hours,dida shortEVA, thendrove foranother two.We think theEVAwas tochangebatteries.”Venkatsighedheavily.“Maybeit’s justalongertest?Anovernighttripkind

ofthing?”“He’s seventy-six kilometers from theHab,”Mindy said. “For anovernight

test,wouldn’thestaywithinwalkingdistance?”“Yes, he would,” Venkat said. “Damn it. We’ve had teams run every

conceivable scenario. There’s just noway he canmake it toAres 4with thatsetup.Wenever sawhim loadup theoxygenator orwater reclaimer.He can’tpossiblyhaveenoughbasicstolivelongenough.”“Idon’tthinkhe’sgoingtoAres4,”Mindysaid.“Ifheis,he’stakingaweird

path.”“Oh?”saidVenkat.“Hewentsouth-southwest.Schiaparellicraterissoutheast.”“Okay,maybethere’shope,”Venkatsaid.“What’shedoingrightnow?”“Recharging.He’sgotallthesolarcellssetup,”Mindysaid.“Lasttimehedid

that, it took twelve hours. Iwas going to sneak home for some sleep if that’sokay.”“Sure,soundsgood.We’llseewhathedoestomorrow.Maybehe’llgobackto

theHab.”“Maybe,”Mindysaid,unconvinced.

•••

“WELCOME BACK,” Cathy said to the camera. “We’re chatting with MarcusWashington,fromtheUSPostalService.So,Mr.Washington,IunderstandtheAres 3 mission caused a postal service first. Can you explain that to our

viewers?”“Uhyeah,”saidMarcus.“EveryonethoughtMarkWatneywasdeadforover

two months. In that time, the postal service issued a run of commemorativestamps honoring his memory. Twenty thousandwere printed and sent to postofficesaroundthecountry.”“Andthenitturnedouthewasalive,”Cathysaid.“Yeah,”saidMarcus.“Wedon’tprintstampsoflivingpeople.Sowestopped

therunimmediatelyandrecalledthestamps,butthousandswerealreadysold.”“Hasthiseverhappenedbefore?”Cathyasked.“No.Notonceinthehistoryofthepostalservice.”“Ibetthey’reworthaprettypennynow.”Marcus chuckled. “Maybe.But like I said, thousandswere sold. They’ll be

rare,butnotsuper-rare.”Cathy chuckled then addressed the camera. “We’ve been speaking with

MarcusWashington of theUnitedStatesPostal Service. If you’ve got aMarkWatney commemorative stamp, you might want to hold on to it. Thanks fordroppingby,Mr.Washington.”“Thanksforhavingme,”Marcussaid.“OurnextguestisDr.IreneShields,flightpsychologistfortheAresmissions.

Dr.Shields,welcometotheprogram.”“Thankyou,”Irenesaid,adjustinghermicrophoneclip.“DoyouknowMarkWatneypersonally?”“Ofcourse,”Irenesaid.“Ididmonthlypsychevaluationsoneachmemberof

thecrew.”“Whatcanyoutellusabouthim?Hispersonality,hismind-set?”“Well,”Irenesaid,“he’sveryintelligent.Allofthemare,ofcourse.Buthe’s

particularlyresourcefulandagoodproblem-solver.”“Thatmaysavehislife,”Cathyinterjected.“It may indeed,” Irene agreed. “Also, he’s a good-natured man. Usually

cheerful, with a great sense of humor. He’s quickwith a joke. In themonthsleading up to launch, the crew was put through a grueling training schedule.Theyallshowedsignsofstressandmoodiness.Markwasnoexception,butthewayheshoweditwastocrackmorejokesandgeteveryonelaughing.”“Hesoundslikeagreatguy,”Cathysaid.“Hereallyis,”Irenesaid.“Hewaschosenforthemissioninpartbecauseof

his personality. An Ares crew has to spend thirteen months together. Social

compatibilityiskey.Marknotonlyfitswellinanysocialgroup,he’sacatalystto make the group work better. It was a terrible blow to the crew when he‘died.’”“Andtheystillthinkhe’sdead,right?TheAres3crew?”“Yes, they do, unfortunately,” Irene confirmed. “The higher-ups decided to

keepitfromthem,atleastfornow.I’msureitwasn’taneasydecision.”Cathypaused for amoment, then said, “All right.Youknow I have to ask:

What’sgoing throughhisheadrightnow?HowdoesamanlikeMarkWatneyrespondtoasituationlikethis?Stranded,alone,noideawe’retryingtohelp?”“There’snowaytobesure,”Irenesaid.“Thebiggestthreatisgivinguphope.

Ifhedecidesthere’snochancetosurvive,he’llstoptrying.”“Thenwe’reokayfornow,right?”Cathysaid.“Heseemstobeworkinghard.

He’spreppingtheroverforalongtripandtestingit.HeplanstobetherewhenAres4lands.”“That’soneinterpretation,yes,”Irenesaid.“Isthereanother?”Irene carefully formed her answer before speaking. “When facing death,

peoplewanttobeheard.Theydon’twanttodiealone.HemightjustwanttheMAVradiosohecantalktoanothersoulbeforehedies.“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 thanstarvation.ThemedicalsuppliesofanAresmissionhaveenoughmorphinetobelethal.”After several secondsof complete silence in the studio,Cathy turned to the

camera.“We’llberightback.”

•••

“HEYA,VENK.”Bruce’svoicecamefromthespeakerphoneonVenkat’sdesk.“Bruce, hi,” said Venkat, typing on his computer. “Thanks for clearing up

sometime.Iwantedtotalkaboutthepresupply.”“Surething.What’sonyourmind?”“Let’ssaywesoft-land itperfectly.HowwillMarkknowithappened?And

howwillheknowwheretolook?”“We’vebeenthinkingaboutthat,”saidBruce.“We’vegotsomeideas.”

“I’mallears,”Venkatsaid,savinghisdocumentandclosinghislaptop.“We’llbesendinghimacommsystemanyway,right?Wecouldhaveitturn

onafterlanding.It’llbroadcastontheroverandEVAsuitfrequencies.It’llhavetobeastrongsignal,too.“TheroverswereonlydesignedtocommunicatewiththeHabandeachother;

the signal originwas presumed to bewithin twenty kilometers. The receiversjustaren’tverysensitive.TheEVAsuitsareevenworse.Butaslongaswehavea strong signalwe should be good.Oncewe land the presupply,we’ll get itsexactlocationfromsatellites,thenbroadcastthattoMarksohecangogetit.”“Buthe’sprobablynotlistening,”saidVenkat.“Whywouldhebe?”“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’satmosphere.Eachribbonwillhave‘MARK:TURNONYOURCOMM’printedonit.We’reworkingonareleasemechanismnow.Duringthelandingsequence,ofcourse.Ideally,aboutathousandmetersabovethesurface.”“I like it,”Venkat said. “All heneeds to do is notice one.Andhe’s sure to

checkoutabrightgreenribbonifheseesoneoutside.”“Venk,”saidBruce.“Ifhe takes the ‘Watneymobile’ toAres4, this’llallbe

fornothing.Imean,wecanlanditatAres4ifthathappens,but…”“Buthe’llbewithoutaHab.Yeah,”Venkatsaid.“Onethingatatime.Letme

knowwhenyoucomeupwithareleasemechanismforthoseribbons.”“Willdo.”After terminating the call, Venkat opened his laptop to get back to work.

Therewasane-mailfromMindyParkwaitingforhim.“Watney’sonthemoveagain.”

•••

“STILLGOINGinastraightline,”Mindysaid,pointingtohermonitor.“Isee,”Venkatsaid.“He’ssureashellnotgoingtoAres4.Unlesshe’sgoing

aroundsomenaturalobstacle.”“There’snothingforhimtogoaround,”Mindysaid.“It’sAcidaliaPlanitia.”“Arethosethesolarcells?”Venkatasked,pointingtothescreen.“Yeah,”Mindysaid.“Hedidtheusualtwo-hourdrive,EVA,two-hourdrive.

He’sonehundredandfifty-sixkilometersfromtheHabnow.”

Theybothpeeredatthescreen.“Wait…,”Venkatsaid.“Wait,noway…”“What?”Mindyasked.Venkat grabbed a padofPost-its and a pen. “Givemehis location, and the

locationoftheHab.”Mindy checked her screen. “He’s currently at…28.9 degrees north, 29.6

degreeswest.”Withafewkeystrokes,shebroughtupanotherfile.“TheHab’sat31.2degreesnorth,28.5degreeswest.Whatdoyousee?”Venkatfinishedtakingdownthenumbers.“Comewithme,”hesaid,quickly

walkingout.“Um,”Mindystammered,followingafter.“Wherearewegoing?”“SatConbreakroom,”Venkatsaid.“YouguysstillhavethatmapofMarson

thewall?”“Sure,”Mindysaid.“But it’s justaposter fromthegiftshop. I’vegothigh-

qualitydigitalmapsonmycomputer—”“Nope.Ican’tdrawonthose,”hesaid.Then,roundingthecornertothebreak

room,hepointedtotheMarsmaponthewall.“Icandrawonthat.”Thebreak roomwasemptysave foracomputer techniciansippingacupof

coffee.HelookedupinalarmasVenkatandMindystormedin.“Good,ithaslatitudeandlongitudelines,”Venkatsaid.LookingathisPost-it,

thenslidinghisfingeralongthemap,hedrewanX.“That’stheHab,”hesaid.“Hey,”thetechniciansaid.“Areyoudrawingonourposter?”“I’llbuyyouanewone,”Venkat saidwithout lookingback.Then,hedrew

anotherX.“That’shiscurrentlocation.Getmearuler.”Mindy looked left and right. Seeing no ruler, she grabbed the technician’s

notebook.“Hey!”thetechnicianprotested.Using the notebook as a straight-edge,Venkat drew a line from theHab to

Mark’slocationandbeyond.Thentookastepback.“Yup!That’swherehe’sgoing!”Venkatsaidexcitedly.“Oh!”Mindysaid.Thelinepassedthroughtheexactcenterofabrightyellowdotprintedonthe

map.“Pathfinder!”Mindysaid.“He’sgoingtoPathfinder!”“Yup!”Venkat said. “Nowwe’regetting somewhere. It’s like eighthundred

kilometersfromhim.Hecangetthereandbackwithsuppliesonhand.”“AndbringPathfinderandSojournerroverbackwithhim,”Mindyadded.Venkatpulledouthiscellphone.“WelostcontactwithPathfinderin1997.If

hecangetitonlineagain,wecancommunicate.Itmightjustneedthesolarcellscleaned.Evenifit’sgotabiggerproblem,he’sanengineer!”Dialing,headded,“Fixingthingsishisjob!”Smilingforwhatfeltlikethefirsttimeinweeks,heheldthephonetohisear

andawaitedaresponse.“Bruce?It’sVenkat.Everythingjustchanged.Watney’sheadedforPathfinder.Yeah!Iknow,right!?DigupeveryonewhowasonthatprojectandgetthemtoJPLnow.I’llcatchthenextflight.”Hanging up, he grinned at the map. “Mark, you sneaky, clever, son of a

bitch!”

CHAPTER9

LOGENTRY:SOL79

It’stheeveningofmyeighthdayontheroad.Sirius4hasbeenasuccesssofar.I’vefallenintoaroutine.EverymorningIwakeupatdawn.FirstthingIdois

checkoxygenandCO2 levels.Then I eat a breakfast pack and drink a cup ofwater.After that, Ibrushmy teeth,usingas littlewateraspossible, andshavewithanelectricrazor.The rover has no toilet. We were expected to use our suits’ reclamation

systemsforthat.Buttheyaren’tdesignedtoholdtwentydays’worthofoutput.Mymorningpissgoes ina resealableplasticbox.WhenIopen it, the rover

reekslikeatruck-stopmen’sroom.Icouldtakeitoutsideandletitboiloff.ButIworkedhardtomakethatwater,andthelastthingI’mgoingtodoiswasteit.I’llfeedittothewaterreclaimerwhenIgetback.Evenmorepreciousismymanure.It’scriticaltothepotatofarm,andI’mthe

only sourceonMars.Fortunately,whenyou spenda lotof time in space,youlearnhowtoshitinabag.Andifyouthinkthingsarebadafteropeningthepissbox,imaginethesmellafterIdropanchor.AfterI’mdonewiththatlovelyroutine,Igooutsideandcollectthesolarcells.

Why didn’t I do it the previous night? Because trying to dismantle and stacksolarcellsintotaldarknessisn’tfun.Ilearnedthatthehardway.Aftersecuringthecells,Icomebackin,turnonsomeshittyseventiesmusic,

andstartdriving.Iputteralongat25kph,therover’stopspeed.It’scomfortableinside. I wear hastily made cutoffs and a thin shirt while the RTG bakes theinterior.WhenitgetstoohotIdetachtheinsulationduct-tapedtothehull.Whenitgetstoocold,Itapeitbackup.Icangoalmosttwohoursbeforethefirstbatteryrunsout.IdoaquickEVAto

swapcables,thenI’mbackatthewheelforthesecondhalfoftheday’sdrive.Theterrainisveryflat.Theundercarriageoftheroveristallerthananyofthe

rocksaroundhere,andthehillsaregentlyslopingaffairs,smoothedbyeonsofsandstorms.When the other battery runs out, it’s time for anotherEVA. I pull the solar

cellsofftheroofandlaythemontheground.Forthefirstfewsols,Ilinedthemupinarow.NowIplopthemwherever,tryingtokeepthemclosetotheroveroutofsheerlaziness.Thencomestheincrediblydullpartofmyday.Isitaroundfortwelvehours

withnothingtodo.AndI’mgettingsickofthisrover.Theinside’sthesizeofa

van.Thatmayseemlikeplentyofroom,buttrybeingtrappedinavanforeightdays. I look forward to tendingmypotato farm in thewideopen spaceof theHab.I’mnostalgicfortheHab.Howfuckedupisthat?IhaveshittyseventiesTVtowatch,andabunchofPoirotnovelstoread.But

mostly I spend my time thinking about getting to Ares 4. I’ll have to do itsomeday.HowthehellamIgoingtosurvivea3200-kilometertripinthisthing?It’llprobably take fiftydays. I’llneed thewater reclaimerand theoxygenator,maybesomeoftheHab’smainbatteries,thenabunchmoresolarcellstochargeeverything.…Wherewill Iput itall?Thesethoughtspestermethroughout thelong,boringdays.Eventually,itgetsdarkandIgettired.Ilieamongthefoodpacks,watertanks,

extraO2tank,pilesofCO2filters,boxofpee,bagsofshit,andpersonalitems.Ihaveabunchofcrewjumpsuitstoserveasbedding,alongwithmyblanketandpillow.Basically,Isleepinapileofjunkeverynight.Speakingofsleep…G’night.

LOGENTRY:SOL80

Bymy reckoning, I’m about 100 kilometers fromPathfinder. Technically it’s“Carl SaganMemorial Station.”Butwith all due respect toCarl, I can call itwhateverthehellIwant.I’mtheKingofMars.AsImentioned, it’sbeena long,boringdrive.AndI’mstillon theoutward

leg.Buthey,I’manastronaut.Long-asstripsaremybusiness.Navigationistricky.TheHab’snavbeacononly reaches40kilometers, so it’s useless tomeout

here. I knew that’d be an issuewhen Iwas planning this little road trip, so Icameupwithabrilliantplanthatdidn’twork.Thecomputerhasdetailedmaps,soIfiguredIcouldnavigatebylandmarks.I

waswrong.Turnsoutyoucan’tnavigatebylandmarksifyoucan’tfindanygoddamnedlandmarks.Ourlandingsiteisatthedeltaofalong-goneriver.NASAchoseitbecauseif

thereareanymicroscopicfossilstobehad,it’sagoodplacetolook.Also,thewaterwouldhavedraggedrockandsoilsamplesfromthousandsofkilometersaway.Withsomedigging,wecouldgetabroadgeologicalhistory.That’sgreatforscience,butitmeanstheHab’sinafeaturelesswasteland.I consideredmaking a compass.The rover has plentyof electricity, and the

medkithasaneedle.Onlyoneproblem:Marsdoesn’thaveamagneticfield.SoInavigatebyPhobos.ItwhipsaroundMarssofastitactuallyrisesandsets

twiceaday,runningwesttoeast.Itisn’tthemostaccuratesystem,butitworks.ThingsgoteasieronSol75.Ireachedavalleywitharisetothewest.Ithad

flatgroundforeasydriving,andIjustneededtofollowtheedgeofthehills.Inamed it “LewisValley” after our fearless leader.She’d love it there, geologynerdthatsheis.Threesolslater,LewisValleyopenedintoawideplain.So,again,Iwasleft

without references and relied on Phobos to guide me. There’s probablysymbolismthere.Phobosisthegodoffear,andI’mlettingitbemyguide.Notagoodsign.But today,my luck finally changed. After two solswandering the desert, I

foundsomethingtonavigateby.Itwasafive-kilometercrater,sosmallitdidn’tevenhavealistedname.Butitwasonthemaps,sotomeitwastheLighthouseofAlexandria.OnceIhaditinsight,IknewexactlywhereIwas.I’mcampednearitnow,asamatteroffact.

I’m finally through the blank areas of the map. Tomorrow, I’ll have theLighthousetonavigateby,andHamelincraterlateron.I’mingoodshape.Nowontomynexttask:sittingaroundwithnothingtodofortwelvehours.Ibettergetstarted!

LOGENTRY:SOL81

Almost made it to Pathfinder today, but I ran out of juice. Just another 22kilometerstogo!Anunremarkabledrive.Navigationwasn’taproblem.AsLighthousereceded

intothedistance,therimofHamelincratercameintoview.IleftAcidaliaPlanitiabehindalongtimeago.I’mwellintoAresVallisnow.

Thedesertplainsaregivingwaytobumpierterrain,strewnwithejectathatnevergotburiedbysand.Itmakesdrivingachore;Ihavetopaymoreattention.Uptillnow,I’vebeendrivingrightovertherock-strewnlandscape.ButasI

travelfarthersouth,therocksaregettingbiggerandmoreplentiful.Ihavetogoaroundsomeofthemorriskdamagetomysuspension.ThegoodnewsisIdon’thave todo it for long.Once Iget toPathfinder, I can turn around andgo theotherway.Theweather’sbeenverygood.Nodiscerniblewind,nostorms.IthinkIgot

lucky there.There’sagoodchancemyrover tracks fromthepast fewsolsareintact.IshouldbeabletogetbacktoLewisValleyjustbyfollowingthem.After setting up the solar panels today, Iwent for a littlewalk. I never left

sightof therover; thelast thingIwanttodoisget lostonfoot.ButIcouldn’tstomachcrawlingbackintothatcramped,smellyrat’snest.Notrightaway.It’sastrangefeeling.EverywhereIgo,I’mthefirst.Stepoutsidetherover?

Firstguyevertobethere!Climbahill?Firstguytoclimbthathill!Kickarock?Thatrockhadn’tmovedinamillionyears!I’mthefirstguytodrivelong-distanceonMars.Thefirstguytospendmore

than thirty-onesolsonMars.The firstguy togrowcropsonMars.First, first,first!Iwasn’texpectingtobefirstatanything.Iwasthefifthcrewmanoutofthe

MDVwhenwelanded,makingmetheseventeenthpersontosetfootonMars.Theegressorderhadbeendeterminedyearsearlier.Amonthbeforelaunch,weallgottattoosofour“Marsnumbers.”Johanssenalmostrefusedtogether“15”because she was afraid it would hurt. Here’s a womanwho had survived thecentrifuge, the vomit comet, hard-landing drills and 10k runs. AwomanwhofixedasimulatedMDVcomputerfailurewhilebeingspunaroundupside-down.Butshewasafraidofatattooneedle.Man,Imissthoseguys.JesusChrist, I’d give anything for a five-minute conversationwith anyone.

Anyone,anywhere.Aboutanything.I’mthefirstpersontobealoneonanentireplanet.Okay, enoughmoping. I am having a conversationwith someone:whoever

readsthislog.It’sabitone-sidedbutit’llhavetodo.Imightdie,butdamnit,someonewillknowwhatIhadtosay.Andthewholepointofthistripistogetaradio.Icouldbereconnectedwith

mankindbeforeIevendie.So here’s another first: Tomorrow I’ll be the first person to recover aMars

probe.

LOGENTRY:SOL82

Victory!Ifoundit!IknewIwasintherightareawhenIspottedTwinPeaksinthedistance.The

two small hills are under a kilometer from the landing site. Even better, theywereonthefarsideofthesite.AllIhadtodowasaimforthemuntilIfoundthelander.Andthereitwas!Rightwhereitwassupposedtobe!Iexcitedlystumbledout

andrushedtothesite.Pathfinder’s final stage of descent was a balloon-covered tetrahedron. The

balloonsabsorbedtheimpactoflanding.Onceitcametorest,theydeflated,andthetetrahedronunfoldedtorevealtheprobe.It’s actually two separate components. The lander itself, and the Sojourner

rover. The lander was immobile, while Sojourner wandered around and got agood lookat the local rocks. I’m takingbothbackwithme,but the importantpartisthelander.That’sthepartthatcancommunicatewithEarth.Ican’texplainhowhappyIwastofindit.Itwasalotofworktogethere,and

I’dsucceeded.Thelanderwashalf-buried.Withsomequickandcarefuldigging,Iexposed

thebulkofit,thoughthelargetetrahedronandthedeflatedballoonsstilllurkedbelowthesurface.Afteraquicksearch,IfoundSojourner.Thelittlefellawasonlytwometers

fromthelander.Ivaguelyrememberitwasfartherawaywhentheylastsawit.Itprobably entered a contingencymode and started circling the lander, trying tocommunicate.IquicklydepositedSojournerinmyrover.It’ssmall,light,andeasilyfitinthe

airlock.Thelanderwasadifferentstory.IhadnohopeofgettingthewholethingbacktotheHab.Itwasjusttoobig,

butIonlyneededtheprobeitself.Itwastimeformetoputonmymechanicalengineerhat.The probe was on the central panel of the unfolded tetrahedron. The other

threesideswereeachattachedtothecentralpanelwithametalhinge.AsanyoneatJPLwill tellyou,probesaredelicate things.Weight isaseriousconcern,sothey’renotmadetostanduptomuchpunishment.WhenItookacrowbartothehinges,theypoppedrightoff!Then things got difficult.When I tried to lift the central panel assembly, it

didn’tbudge.Just like the other three panels, the central panel had deflated balloons

underneathit.Overthedecades,theballoonshadrippedandfilledwithsand.Icouldcutofftheballoons,butI’dhavetodigtogettothem.Itwouldn’tbe

hard,it’sjustsand.Buttheotherthreepanelswereinthedamnway.IquicklyrealizedIdidn’tgiveacrapabouttheconditionoftheotherpanels.I

wentbacktomyrover,cutsomestripsofHabmaterial,thenbraidedthemintoaprimitivebutstrongrope.Ican’ttakecreditforitbeingstrong.ThankNASAforthat.Ijustmadeitrope-shaped.I tiedoneendtoapanelandtheother to therover.Theroverwasmadefor

traversingextremelyruggedterrain,oftenatsteepangles.Itmaynotbefast,butithasgreattorque.Itowedthepanelawaylikearedneckremovingatreestump.NowIhadaplacetodig.AsIexposedeachballoon,Icutitoff.Thewhole

tasktookanhour.ThenIhoistedthecentralpanelassemblyupandcarrieditconfidentlytothe

rover!Atleast,that’swhatIwantedtodo.Thedamnthingisstillheavyashell.I’m

guessing it’s 200 kilograms.Even inMars’s gravity that’s a bitmuch. I couldcarryitaroundtheHabeasilyenough,butliftingitwhilewearinganawkwardEVAsuit?Outofthequestion.SoIdraggedittotherover.Nowformynextfeat:gettingitontheroof.Theroofwasemptyatthemoment.Evenwithmostlyfullbatteries,Ihadset

upthesolarcellswhenIstopped.Whynot?Freeenergy.I’d worked it out in advance. On the way here, two stacks of solar panels

occupiedthewholeroof.Onthewayback,I’lluseasinglestacktomakeroomfor the probe. It’s a littlemore dangerous; the stackmight fall over.Also, thecellswillbeapainintheasstostackthathigh.ButI’llgetitdone.I can’t just throw a rope over the rover and hoistPathfinder up the side. I

don’twanttobreakit.Imean,it’salreadybroken;theylostcontactin1997.ButIdon’twanttobreakitmore.Icameupwithasolution,butI’ddoneenoughphysicallaborforoneday,and

Iwasalmostoutofdaylight.Now I’m in the rover, looking at Sojourner. It seems all right.No physical

damageontheoutside.Doesn’tlooklikeanythinggottoobakedbythesunlight.

The dense layer of Mars crap all over it protected it from long-term solardamage.Youmay think Sojourner isn’tmuch use tome. It can’t communicatewith

Earth.WhydoIcareaboutit?Becauseithasalotofmovingparts.IfIestablishalinkwithNASA,Icantalktothembyholdingapageoftextup

tothelander’scamera.Buthowwouldtheytalktome?Theonlymovingpartson the lander are the high-gain antenna (whichwould have to stay pointed atEarth)andthecameraboom.We’dhavetocomeupwithasystemwhereNASAcouldtalkbyrotatingthecamerahead.Itwouldbepainfullyslow.ButSojournerhassixindependentwheelsthatrotatereasonablyfast.It’llbe

much easier to communicate with those. I could draw letters on the wheels.NASAcouldrotatethemtospellthingsatme.ThatallassumesIcangetthelander’sradioworkingatall.Timetoturnin.I’vegotalotofbackbreakingphysicallabortodotomorrow.

I’llneedmyrest.

LOGENTRY:SOL83

OhGod,I’msore.Butit’stheonlywayIcouldthinkoftogetthelandersafelyontotheroof.Ibuiltarampoutofrocksandsand.JustliketheancientEgyptiansdid.Andifthere’sonethingAresVallishas,it’srocks!First, Iexperimented to findouthowsteep thegradecouldbe. Ipiledsome

rocksnear the lander anddragged it up thepile andbackdownagain.Then Imade the pile steeper andmade sure I could drag the lander up and down. IrepeatedthisoverandoveruntilIfoundthebestgradeformyramp:30degrees.Anythingmorewastoorisky.Imightlosemygripandsendthelandertumblingdowntheramp.Theroofoftheroverisovertwometersfromtheground.SoI’dneedaramp

almostfourmeterslong.Igottowork.Thefirstfewrockswereeasy.Thentheystartedfeelingheavierandheavier.

Hardphysicallaborinaspacesuitismurder.Everything’smoreeffortbecauseyou’re lugging 20 kilograms of suit around with you, and your movement islimited.Iwaspantingwithintwentyminutes.SoIcheated.IuppedmyO2mixture.Itreallyhelpedalot.Probablyshouldn’t

makethatahabit.Also,Ididn’tgethot.Thesuitleaksheatfasterthanmybodycould ever generate it. The heating system is what keeps the temperaturebearable.Myphysicallaborjustmeantthesuitdidn’thavetoheatitselfasmuch.Afterhoursofgruelinglabor,Ifinallygottherampmade.Nothingmorethan

apileofrocksagainsttherover,butitreachedtheroof.I stomped up and down the ramp first, to make sure it was stable, then I

draggedthelanderup.Itworkedlikeacharm!I was all smiles as I lashed the lander in place. I made sure it was firmly

secured, and even stacked the solar cells in a big single stack (whywaste theramp?).But then ithitme.Therampwouldcollapseas Idroveaway,and the rocks

might damage thewheels or undercarriage. I’d have to take the ramp apart tokeepthatfromhappening.Ugh.Tearingtherampdownwaseasierthanputtingitup.Ididn’tneedtocarefully

puteachrockinastableplace.Ijustdroppedthemwherever.Itonlytookmean

hour.AndnowI’mdone!I’llstartheadinghometomorrow,withmynew200-kilogrambrokenradio.

CHAPTER10

LOGENTRY:SOL90

SevendayssincePathfinder,andsevendaysclosertohome.AsI’dhoped,myinboundtracksgavemeapathbacktoLewisValley.Thenit

wasfoursolsofeasydriving.Thehillstomyleftmadeitimpossibletogetlost,andtheterrainwassmooth.But all good things come to anend. I’mback inAcidaliaPlanitianow.My

outgoingtracksarelonggone.It’sbeensixteendayssinceIwaslasthere.Eventimidweatherwouldclearthemoutinthattime.Onmywayout,IshouldhavemadeapileofrockseverytimeIcamped.The

landissoflatthey’dbevisibleforkilometers.Onsecondthought,thinkingbacktomakingthatdamnramp…ugh.SoonceagainIamthedesertwanderer,usingPhobostonavigateandhoping

Idon’tstraytoofar.AllIneedtodoisgetwithin40kilometersoftheHabandI’llpickupthebeacon.I’m feeling optimistic. For the first time, I think Imight get off this planet

alive.With that inmind, I’m taking soil and rock samples every time I do anEVA.Atfirst,Ifigureditwasmyduty.IfIsurvive,geologistswill lovemeforit.

Butthenitstartedtogetfun.Now,asIdrive,Ilookforwardtothatsimpleactofbaggingrocks.It just feels nice to be an astronaut again. That’s all it is. Not a reluctant

farmer, not an electrical engineer, not a long-haul trucker. An astronaut. I’mdoingwhatastronautsdo.Imissedit.

LOGENTRY:SOL92

Igot two secondsof signal from theHabbeacon today, then lost it.But it’s agoodsign.I’vebeentravelingvaguelynorth-northwestfortwodays.ImustbeagoodhundredkilometersfromtheHab;it’samiracleIgotanysignalatall.Musthavebeenamomentofperfectweatherconditions.During the boring-ass days, I’m working my way through The Six Million

Dollar Man from Commander Lewis’s inexhaustible collection of seventiestripe.I justwatched an episodewhereSteveAustin fights aRussianVenusprobe

thatlandedonEarthbymistake.Asanexpertininterplanetarytravel,Icantellyoutherearenoscientificinaccuraciesinthestory.It’squitecommonforprobestolandonthewrongplanet.Also, theprobe’s large,flat-panelhull is idealforthehigh-pressureVenusianatmosphere.And,asweallknow,probesoftenrefusetoobeydirectives,choosinginsteadtoattackhumansonsight.Sofar,Pathfinderhasn’ttriedtokillme.ButI’mkeepinganeyeonit.

LOGENTRY:SOL93

I found the Hab signal today. No more chance to get lost. According to thecomputer,I’m24,718metersaway.I’llbehometomorrow.Eveniftheroverhasacatastrophicfailure,I’llbefine.

IcanwalktotheHabfromhere.I don’t know if I’vementioned this before, but I am really fucking sick of

beinginthisrover.I’vespentsomuchtimeseatedorlyingdown,mybackisallscrewedup.Ofallmycrewmates,theoneImissmostrightnowisBeck.He’dfixmyachingback.Thoughhe’dprobablygivemeabunchofshitaboutit.“Whydidn’tyoudo

stretchingexercises?Yourbodyisimportant!Eatmorefiber,”orwhatever.Atthispoint,I’dwelcomeahealthlecture.During training,wehad topractice thedreaded“MissedOrbit” scenario. In

theeventofasecond-stagefailureduringMAVascent,we’dbeinorbit,buttoolow to reachHermes. We’d be skimming the upper atmosphere, so our orbitwouldrapidlydecay.NASAwouldremotelyoperateHermesandbring it in topickusup.Thenwe’dgetthehelloutoftherebeforeHermescaughttoomuchdrag.Todrillthis,theymadeusstayintheMAVsimulatorforthreemiserabledays.

Six people in an ascent vehicle originally designed for a twenty-three-minuteflight.Itgota littlecramped.Andby“alittlecramped”Imean“wewantedtokilleachother.”I’dgiveanythingtobeinthatcrampedcapsulewiththoseguysagain.Man,IhopeIgetPathfinderworkingagain.

LOGENTRY:SOL94

Homesweethome!TodayIwritefrommygigantic,cavernousHab!ThefirstthingIdidwhenIgotinwaswavemyarmswildlywhilerunningin

circles. Felt great! Iwas in that damn rover for twenty-two sols and couldn’tevenwalkwithoutsuitingup.I’llneedtoenduretwicethattogettoAres4,butthat’saproblemforlater.AfterafewcelebratorylapsaroundtheHab,itwastimetogettowork.First, I fired up the oxygenator and atmospheric regulator.Checking the air

levels, everything looked good. There was still CO2, so the plants hadn’tsuffocatedwithoutmeexhalingforthem.NaturallyIdidanexhaustivecheckonmycrops,andthey’reallhealthy.Iaddedmybagsofshittothemanurepile.Lovelysmell,Icantellyou.But

onceImixedsomesoilin,itdieddowntotolerablelevels.Idumpedmyboxo’peeintothewaterreclaimer.I’dbeengoneoverthreeweeksandhadlefttheHabveryhumidforthesake

of the crops. That much water in the air can cause any amount of electricalproblems,soIspentthenextfewhoursdoingfullsystemschecksoneverything.ThenIkindofloungedaroundforawhile.Iwantedtospendtherestofthe

dayrelaxing,butIhadmoretodo.After suiting up, Iwent out to the rover and dragged the solar cells off the

roof. Over the next few hours, I put them back where they belonged, wiringthemintotheHab’spowergrid.Gettingthelanderofftheroofwasahellofaloteasierthangettingitupthere.

IdetachedastrutfromtheMAVplatformanddraggeditover totherover.Byleaningitagainstthehullanddiggingtheotherendintothegroundforstability,Ihadaramp.IshouldhavebroughtthatstrutwithmetothePathfindersite.Liveandlearn.There’s no way to get the lander in the airlock. It’s just too big. I could

probably dismantle it and bring it in a piece at a time, but there’s a prettycompellingreasonnotto.Withnomagneticfield,Marshasnodefenseagainstharshsolarradiation.IfI

wereexposedtoit,I’dgetsomuchcancer,thecancerwouldhavecancer.SotheHab canvas shields from electromagnetic waves. This means the Hab itself

wouldblockanytransmissionsifthelanderwereinside.Speakingofcancer,itwastimetogetridoftheRTG.Itpainedme toclimbback into therover,but ithad tobedone. If theRTG

everbrokeopen,itwouldkillmetodeath.NASAdecided four kilometerswas the safe distance, and Iwasn’t about to

second-guess them. I drove back to where Commander Lewis had originallydumpedit,ditcheditinthesamehole,anddrovebacktotheHab.I’llstartworkonthelandertomorrow.Now to enjoy a good, long sleep in an actual cot. With the comforting

knowledgethatwhenIwake,mymorningpisswillgointoatoilet.

LOGENTRY:SOL95

Todaywasallaboutrepairs!ThePathfinder mission ended because the lander had an unknown critical

failure.OnceJPLlostcontactwiththelander,theyhadnoideawhatbecameofSojourner. It might be in better shape. Maybe it just needs power. Power itcouldn’tgetwithitssolarpanelshopelesslycakedwithdust.Isetthelittleroveronmyworkbenchandpriedopenapaneltopeekinside.

The batterywas a lithium thionyl chloride nonrechargeable. I figured that outfromsomesubtleclues:theshapeoftheconnectionpoints,thethicknessoftheinsulation,andthefactthatithad“LiSOCl2NON-RCHRG”writtenonit.I cleaned the solar panels thoroughly, then aimed a small, flexible lamp

directly at them. The battery’s long dead. But the panels might be okay, andSojournercanoperatedirectlyoffthem.We’llseeifanythinghappens.ThenitwastimetotakealookatSojourner’sdaddy.Isuitedupandheaded

out.On most landers, the weak point is the battery. It’s the most delicate

component,andwhenitdies,there’snowaytorecover.Landers can’t just shut down andwaitwhen they have low batteries. Their

electronicswon’tworkunlessthey’reataminimumtemperature.Sotheyhaveheaters to keep the electronics warm. It’s a problem that rarely comes up onEarth,buthey.Mars.Overtime,thesolarpanelsgetcoveredwithdust.Thenwinterbringscolder

temperatures and less daylight. This all combines into a big “fuck you” fromMars to your lander.Eventually it’s usingmore power to keepwarm than it’sgettingfromthemeagerdaylightthatmakesitthroughthedust.Once thebattery runsdown, theelectronicsget toocold tooperate, and the

whole system dies. The solar panels will recharge the battery somewhat, butthere’s nothing to tell the system to reboot. Anything that could make thatdecision would be electronics, which would not be working. Eventually, thenow-unusedbatterywillloseitsabilitytoretaincharge.That’stheusualcauseofdeath.AndIsurehopeit’swhatkilledPathfinder.IpiledsomeleftoverpartsoftheMDVintoamakeshifttableandramp.Then

Idraggedthelanderuptomynewoutdoorworkbench.WorkinginanEVAsuitisannoyingenough.Bendingoverthewholetimewouldhavebeentorture.Igotmy toolkitandstartedpokingaround.Opening theouterpanelwasn’t

toohardandIidentifiedthebatteryeasilyenough.JPLlabelseverything.It’sa40 amp-hourAg-Znbatterywith anoptimal voltageof 1.5.Wow.They reallymadethosethingsrunonnothin’backthen.Idetachedthebatteryandheadedbackinside.Icheckeditwithmyelectronics

kit, and sure enough it’s dead, dead, dead. I could shuffle across a carpet andholdmorecharge.ButIknewwhatthelanderneeded:1.5volts.Compared to themakeshift crap I’ve been gluing together since Sol 6, this

was a breeze. I have voltage controllers in my kit! It only took me fifteenminutes to put a controller on a reserve power line, then another hour to gooutsideandrunthelinetowherethebatteryusedtobe.Then there’s the issue of heat. It’s a good idea to keep electronics above

−40°C.Thetemperaturetodayisabrisk−63°C.Thebatterywasbigandeasytoidentify,butIhadnocluewheretheheaters

were.Evenif Iknew, it’dbe tooriskytohookthemdirectly topower.Icouldeasilyfrythewholesystem.Soinstead,Iwenttogoodold“SpareParts”Rover1andstoleitsenvironment

heater.I’veguttedthatpoorroversomuch,itlookslikeIparkeditinabadpartoftown.Iluggedtheheatertomyoutdoor“workbench,”andhookedittoHabpower.

ThenIresteditinthelanderwherethebatteryusedtobe.NowIwait.Andhope.

LOGENTRY:SOL96

IwasreallyhopingI’dwakeuptoafunctionallander,butnosuchluck.Itshigh-gain antenna is rightwhere I last saw it.Whydoes thatmatter?Well, I’ll tellya…If the lander comes back to life (and that’s a big if), it’ll try to establish

contact with Earth. Problem is nobody’s listening. It’s not like thePathfinderteamishangingaroundJPLjust incase their long-deadprobe is repairedbyawaywardastronaut.TheDeepSpaceNetworkandSETIaremybestbetsforpickingupthesignal.

IfeitherofthemcaughtablipfromPathfinder,they’dtellJPL.JPL would quickly figure out what was going on, especially when they

triangulatedthesignaltomylandingsite.They’dtellthelanderwhereEarthis,anditwouldanglethehigh-gainantenna

appropriately.Thatthere,theanglingoftheantenna,ishowI’llknowifitlinkedup.Sofar,noaction.There’sstillhope.Anynumberofreasonscouldbedelayingthings.Therover

heaterisdesignedtoheatairatoneatmosphere,andthethinMartianairseverelyhampersitsabilitytowork.Sotheelectronicsmightneedmoretimetowarmup.Also, Earth is only visible during the day. I (hopefully) fixed the lander

yesterdayevening. It’smorningnow,somostof the intervening timehasbeennight.NoEarth.Sojourner’s showing no signs of life, either. It’s been in the nice, warm

environmentoftheHaballnight,withplentyoflightonitssparklingcleansolarcells.Maybe it’s running an extended self-check, or staying still until it hearsfromthelanderorsomething.I’lljusthavetoputitoutofmymindfornow.

PathfinderLOG:SOL0BOOTSEQUENCEINITIATEDTIME00:00:00LOSSOFPOWERDETECTED,TIME/DATEUNRELIABLELOADINGOS…

VXWAREOPERATINGSYSTEM(C)WINDRIVERSYSTEMSPERFORMINGHARDWARECHECK:INT.TEMPERATURE:−34°CEXT.TEMPERATURE:NONFUNCTIONALBATTERY:FULLHIGAIN:OKLOGAIN:OK

WINDSENSOR:NONFUNCTIONALMETEOROLOGY:NONFUNCTIONALASI:NONFUNCTIONALIMAGER:OKROVERRAMP:NONFUNCTIONALSOLARA:NONFUNCTIONALSOLARB:NONFUNCTIONALSOLARC:NONFUNCTIONALHARDWARECHECKCOMPLETE

BROADCASTINGSTATUSLISTENINGFORTELEMETRYSIGNAL…LISTENINGFORTELEMETRYSIGNAL…LISTENINGFORTELEMETRYSIGNALSIGNALACQUIRED…

CHAPTER11

“SOMETHING’SCOMINGIN…yes…yes!It’sPathfinder!”The crowded room burst into applause and cheers. Venkat slapped an

unknowntechnicianonthebackwhileBrucepumpedhisfistintheair.Thead-hocPathfinder control centerwasanaccomplishment in itself.Over

the last twentydays, a teamof JPLengineershadworkedaround theclock topiece together antiquated computers, repair broken components, networkeverything, and install hastily made software that allowed the old systems tointeractwiththemodernDeepSpaceNetwork.Theroomitselfwasformerlyaconferenceroom;JPLhadnospacereadyfor

the sudden need. Already jam-packed with computers and equipment, thecramped space had turned positively claustrophobic with themany spectatorsnowsqueezingintoit.OneAssociatedPresscamerateampressedagainstthebackwall,trying—and

failing—tostayoutofeveryone’swaywhilerecordingtheauspiciousmoment.The restof themediawouldhave to satisfy themselveswith the liveAP feed,andawaitapressconference.VenkatturnedtoBruce.“Goddamn,Bruce.Youreallypulledarabbitoutof

yourhatthistime!Goodwork!”“I’mjustthedirector,”Brucesaidmodestly.“Thanktheguyswhogotallthis

stuffworking.”“OhIwill!”Venkatbeamed.“ButfirstIhavetotalktomynewbestfriend!”Turningtotheheadsettedmanatthecommunicationsconsole,Venkatasked,

“What’syourname,newbestfriend?”“Tim,”hesaid,nottakinghiseyesoffthescreen.“Whatnow?”Venkatasked.“Wesentthereturntelemetryautomatically.It’llgetthereinjustovereleven

minutes.Onceitdoes,Pathfinderwill starthigh-gain transmissions.So it’llbetwenty-twominutestillwehearfromitagain.”“Venkat’s got a doctorate in physics, Tim,”Bruce said. “You don’t need to

explaintransmissiontimetohim.”Timshrugged.“Youcannevertellwithmanagers.”“Whatwasinthetransmissionwegot?”Venkatasked.“Just thebarebones.Ahardwareself-check.It’sgota lotof‘nonfunctional’

systems,’causetheywereonthepanelsWatneyremoved.”

“Whataboutthecamera?”“It says the imager’sworking.We’llhave it takeapanoramaassoonaswe

can.”

LOGENTRY:SOL97

Itworked!Holyshit,itworked!I just suited up and checked the lander. The high-gain antenna is angled

directlyatEarth!Pathfinderhasnowayofknowingwhereitis,soithasnowayofknowingwhereEarthis.Theonlywayforittofindoutisgettingasignal.TheyknowI’malive!I don’t even know what to say. This was an insane plan and somehow it

worked!I’mgoingtobetalkingtosomeoneagain.Ispent threemonthsastheloneliestmaninhistoryandit’sfinallyover.Sure,Imightnotgetrescued.ButIwon’tbealone.Thewhole time Iwas recoveringPathfinder, I imaginedwhat thismoment

wouldbe like. I figured I’d jumpupanddownabit,cheer,maybeflipoff theground (because this whole damn planet is my enemy), but that’s not whathappened.WhenIgotbacktotheHabandtookofftheEVAsuit,Isatdowninthedirt andcried.Bawled likea littlekid for severalminutes. I finally settleddowntomildsnifflingandthenfeltadeepcalm.Itwasagoodcalm.Itoccurstome:NowthatImightlive,Ihavetobemorecarefulaboutlogging

embarrassingmoments.HowdoIdeletelogentries?There’snoobviousway.…I’llgettoitlater.I’vegotmoreimportantthingstodo.I’vegotpeopletotalkto!

•••

VENKATGRINNEDashetookthepodiumintheJPLpressroom.“Wereceivedthehigh-gainresponsejustoverhalfanhourago,”hesaidtothe

assembled press. “We immediately directed Pathfinder to take a panoramicimage.Hopefully,Watneyhassomekindofmessageforus.Questions?”Theseaofreportersraisedtheirhands.“Cathy,let’sstartwithyou,”Venkatsaid,pointingtotheCNNreporter.“Thanks,”shesaid.“HaveyouhadanycontactwiththeSojournerrover?”“Unfortunately, no,” he replied. “The lander hasn’t been able to connect to

Sojourner,andwehavenowaytocontactitdirectly.”“WhatmightbewrongwithSojourner?”“I can’t even speculate,” Venkat said. “After spending that long on Mars,

anythingcouldbewrongwithit.”“Bestguess?”“Our best guess is he took it into theHab.The lander’s signalwouldn’t be

able to reachSojourner throughHab canvas.” Pointing to another reporter, hesaid,“You,there.”“Marty West, NBC News,” Marty said. “How will you communicate with

Watneyonceeverything’supandrunning?”“That’ll be up toWatney,” said Venkat. “All we have to work with is the

camera.Hecanwritenotesandholdthemup.Buthowwetalkbackistrickier.”“Howso?”Martyasked.“Because all we have is the camera platform. That’s the onlymoving part.

There are plenty of ways to get information across with just the platform’srotation, but no way to tellWatney about them. He’ll have to come up withsomethingandtellus.We’llfollowhislead.”Pointingtothenextreporter,hesaid,“Goahead.”“JillHolbrook,BBC.With a thirty-two-minute round-trip andnothingbut a

single rotating platform to talk with, it’ll be a dreadfully slow conversation,won’tit?”“Yesitwill,”Venkatconfirmed.“It’searlymorninginAcidaliaPlanitiaright

now,andjustpastthreea.m.hereinPasadena.We’llbehereallnight,andthat’sjustforastart.Nomorequestionsfornow.Thepanoramaisduebackinafewminutes.We’llkeepyouposted.”Before anyone could ask a follow-up, Venkat strode out the side door and

hurried down the hall to the makeshift Pathfinder control center. He pressedthroughthethrongtothecommunicationsconsole.“Anything,Tim?”“Totally,”hereplied.“Butwe’restaringatthisblackscreenbecauseit’sway

moreinterestingthanpicturesfromMars.”“You’reasmart-ass,Tim,”Venkatsaid.“Noted.”Brucepushedhiswayforward.“Stillanother fewsecondson theclock,”he

said.Thetimepassedinsilence.

“Gettingsomething,”Timsaid.“Yup.It’sthepanoramic.”Sighs of relief andmuted conversation replaced tense silence as the image

begancomingthrough.Itfilledoutfromlefttorightatasnail’spaceduetothebandwidthlimitationsoftheantiqueprobesendingit.“Martian surface…,” Venkat said as the lines slowly filled in. “More

surface…”“EdgeoftheHab!”Brucesaid,pointingtothescreen.“Hab,” Venkat smiled. “More Hab now…more Hab…Is that a message?

That’samessage!”Astheimagegrew,itrevealedahandwrittennote,suspendedatthecamera’s

heightbyathinmetalrod.“WegotanotefromMark!”Venkatannouncedtotheroom.Applausefilledtheroom,thenquicklydieddown.“What’sitsay?”someone

asked.Venkat leanedcloser to thescreen.“It says…‘I’llwritequestionshere—Are

youreceiving?’”“Okay…?”saidBruce.“That’swhatitsays,”Venkatshrugged.“Anothernote,”saidTim,pointing to thescreenasmoreof the imagecame

through.Venkatleanedinagain.“Thisonesays‘Pointhereforyes.’”Hefoldedhisarms.“Allright.WehavecommunicationwithMark.Tim,point

thecameraat ‘Yes.’Then, start takingpictures at ten-minute intervalsuntil heputsanotherquestionup.”

LOGENTRY:SOL97(2)

“Yes!”Theysaid,“Yes!”Ihaven’tbeenthisexcitedabouta“yes”sincepromnight!Okay,calmdown.Ihavelimitedpapertoworkwith.Thesecardswereintendedtolabelbatches

ofsamples.Ihaveaboutfiftycards.Icanusebothsides,andifitcomesdowntoit,Icanre-usethembyscratchingouttheoldquestion.The Sharpie I’m using will last much longer than the cards, so ink isn’t a

problem.ButIhavetodoallmywritingintheHab.Idon’tknowwhatkindofhallucinogeniccrapthatinkismadeof,butI’mprettysureitwouldboiloffinMars’satmosphere.I’musingoldpartsoftheantennaarraytoholdthecardsup.There’sacertain

ironyinthat.We’ll need to talk faster than yes/no questions every half hour.The camera

can rotate 360 degrees, and I have plenty of antenna parts. Time tomake analphabet.ButIcan’tjustusethelettersAthroughZ.Twenty-sixlettersplusmyquestioncardwouldbe twenty-sevencardsaround the lander.Eachonewouldonly get 13 degrees of arc. Even if JPL points the camera perfectly, there’s agoodchanceIwon’tknowwhichlettertheymeant.So I’ll have to use ASCII. That’s how computersmanage characters. Each

characterhasanumerical codebetween0and255.Valuesbetween0and255canbeexpressedas2hexadecimaldigits.Bygivingmepairsofhexdigits,theycansendanycharactertheylike,includingnumbers,punctuation,etc.HowdoIknowwhichvaluesgowithwhichcharacters?BecauseJohanssen’s

laptop is awealth of information. I knew she’d have anASCII table in theresomewhere.Allcomputergeeksdo.SoI’llmakecardsfor0through9,andAthroughF.Thatmakes16cardsto

placearoundthecamera,plusthequestioncard.Seventeencardsmeansover21degreeseach.Mucheasiertodealwith.Timetogettowork!Spell with ASCII. 0–F at 21-degree increments.Will watch camera starting

11:00mytime.Whenmessagedone,returntothisposition.Wait20minutesaftercompletiontotakepicture(soIcanwriteandpostreply).Repeatprocessattopofeveryhour.S…T…A…T…U…S

No physical problems. All Hab components functional. Eating 3/4 rations.SuccessfullygrowingcropsinHabwithcultivatedsoil.Note:SituationnotAres3crew’sfault.Badluck.H…O…W…A…L…I…V…EImpaled by antenna fragment. Knocked out by decompression. Landed

facedown, blood sealed hole. Woke up after crew left. Bio-monitor computerdestroyedbypuncture.Crewhadreasontothinkmedead.Nottheirfault.C…R…O…P…S…?Long story. Extreme botany.Have 126m2 farmland growing potatoes.Will

extendfoodsupply,butnotenoughtolastuntilAres4landing.Modifiedroverforlong-distancetravel,plantodrivetoAres4.W…E…S…A…W…—…S…A…T…L…I…T…EGovernmentwatchingmewith satellites?Need tinfoil hat! Also need faster

waytocommunicate.Speak&Spelltakingalldamnday.Anyideas?B…R…I…N…G…S…J…R…N…R…O…U…TSojournerroverbroughtout,placed1meterduenorthof lander. Ifyoucan

contactit,Icandrawhexnumbersonthewheelsandyoucansendmesixbytesatatime.S…J…R…N…R…N…O…T…R…S…P…N…DDamn.Anyotherideas?Needfastercommunication.W…O…R…K…I…N…G…O…N…I…TEarth isabout to set.Resume08:00my time tomorrowmorning.Tell family

I’mfine.Givecrewmybest.TellCommanderLewisdiscosucks.

•••

VENKATBLINKEDhisblearyeyesseveraltimesashetriedtoorganizethepapersonhisdesk.HistemporarydeskatJPLwasnothingmorethanafoldingtablesetupinthebackofabreakroom.Peoplewereinandoutpickingupsnacksallday,butontheplussidethecoffeepotwasnearby.“Excuseme,”saidamanapproachingthetable.“Yes, they’re out of Diet Coke,” Venkat said without looking up. “I don’t

knowwhenSiteServicesrefillsthefridge.”“I’mactuallyheretotalktoyou,Dr.Kapoor.”“Huh?” said Venkat, looking up. He shook his head. “Sorry, I was up all

night.”Hegulpedhiscoffee.“Whoareyouagain?”“Jack Trevor,” said the thin, pale man before Venkat. “I work in software

engineering.”“WhatcanIdoforyou?”“Wehaveanideaforcommunication.”“I’mallears.”“We’vebeen looking through theoldPathfinder software.Wegot duplicate

computers up and running for testing. Same computers they used to find aproblemthatalmostkilledtheoriginalmission.Realinterestingstory,actually;turnsout therewasapriority inversion inSojourner’s threadmanagementand—”“Focus,Jack,”interruptedVenkat.“Right.Well, the thing is,Pathfinder has anOSupdate process. Sowe can

changethesoftwaretoanythingwewant.”“Howdoesthishelpus?”“Pathfinderhastwocommunicationssystems.Onetotalktous,theotherto

talktoSojourner.WecanchangethesecondsystemtobroadcastontheAres3rover frequency.Andwecanhave it pretend tobe thebeacon signal from theHab.”“YoucangetPathfindertalkingtoMark’srover?”“It’s the only option. The Hab’s radio is dead, but the rover has

communications equipment made for talking to the Hab and the other rover.Problemis,toimplementanewcommsystem,bothendsofitneedtohavetherightsoftwarerunning.WecanremotelyupdatePathfinder,butnottherover.”“So,”Venkatsaid,“youcangetPathfindertotalktotherover,butyoucan’t

gettherovertolistenortalkback.”“Right.Ideally,wewantourtexttoshowupontheroverscreen,andwhatever

Watney types to be sent back to us. That requires a change to the rover’ssoftware.”Venkat sighed. “What’s the point of this discussion if we can’t update the

rover’ssoftware?”Jackgrinnedashecontinued.“Wecan’tdothepatch,butWatneycan!Wecan

justsendthedata,andhavehimentertheupdateintotheroverhimself.”“Howmuchdataarewetalkingabout?”“Ihaveguysworkingontheroversoftwarerightnow.Thepatchfilewillbe

twentymeg,minimum.WecansendonebytetoWatneyeveryfoursecondsor

sowiththe‘Speak&Spell.’It’dtakethreeyearsofconstantbroadcastingtogetthatpatchacross.Obviously,that’snogood.”“But you’re talking to me, so you have a solution, right?” Venkat probed,

resistingtheurgetoscream.“Ofcourse!” Jackbeamed.“Softwareengineersare sneakybastardswhen it

comestodatamanagement.”“Enlightenme,”saidVenkat.“Here’s the clever part,” Jack said, conspiratorially. “The rover currently

parsesthesignalintobytes,thenidentifiesthespecificsequencetheHabsends.Thatway, natural radiowaveswon’t throwoff thehoming. If thebytes aren’tright,theroverignoresthem.”“Okay,sowhat?”“Itmeansthere’saspotinthecodebasewhereit’sgottheparsedbytes.We

caninsertatinybitofcode,justtwentyinstructions,towritetheparsedbytestoalogfilebeforecheckingtheirvalidity.”“Thissoundspromising…,”Venkatsaid.“It is!”Jacksaidexcitedly.“First,weupdatePathfinder so itknowshowto

talktotherover.Then,wetellWatneyexactlyhowtohacktheroversoftwaretoaddthosetwentyinstructions.ThenwehavePathfinderbroadcastnewsoftwaretotherover.Theroverlogsthebytestoafile.Finally,Watneylaunchesthefileasanexecutableandtheroverpatchesitself!”Venkat furrowed his brow, taking in far more information than his sleep-

deprivedmindwantedtoaccept.“Um,”Jacksaid.“You’renotcheeringordancing.”“SowejustneedtosendWatneythosetwentyinstructions?”Venkatasked.“That, andhow to edit the files.Andwhere to insert the instructions in the

files.”“Justlikethat?”“Justlikethat!”Venkatwas silent for amoment. “Jack, I’m going to buy yourwhole team

autographedStarTrekmemorabilia.”“IpreferStarWars,”hesaid, turning to leave.“Theoriginal trilogyonly,of

course.”“Ofcourse,”Venkatsaid.AsJackwalkedaway,awomanapproachedVenkat’stable.

“Yes?”Venkatsaid.“Ican’tfindanyDietCoke,areweout?”“Yes,”Venkatsaid.“Idon’tknowwhenSiteServicesrefillsthefridge.”“Thanks,”shesaid.Justashewasabouttogetbacktowork,hismobilerang.Hegroanedloudly

attheceilingashesnatchedthephonefromhisdesk.“Hello?”hesaidascheerfullyashecould.“IneedapictureofWatney.”“Hi,Annie.Nicetohearfromyou,too.HowarethingsbackinHouston?”“Cuttheshit,Venkat.Ineedapicture.”“It’snotthatsimple,”Venkatexplained.“You’retalkingtohimwithafuckingcamera.Howhardcanitbe?”“We spell out our message, wait twenty minutes, and then take a picture.

Watney’sbackintheHabbythen.”“Sotellhimtobearoundwhenyoutakethenextpicture,”Anniedemanded.“Wecanonlysendonemessageperhour,andonlywhenAcidaliaPlanitiais

facingEarth,”Venkatsaid.“We’renotgoingtowasteamessagejusttotellhimtoposeforaphoto.Besides,he’llbeinhisEVAsuit.Youwon’tevenbeabletoseehisface.”“Ineedsomething,Venkat,”Anniesaid.“You’vebeenincontactfortwenty-

fourhoursandthemediaisgoingapeshit.Theywantanimageforthestory.It’llbeoneverynewssiteintheworld.”“Youhavethepicturesofhisnotes.Makedowiththat.”“Not enough,”Annie said. “The press is crawling downmy throat for this.

Andupmyass.Bothdirections,Venkat!They’regonnameetinthemiddle!”“It’llhave towaita fewdays.We’regoing to tryand linkPathfinder to the

rovercomputer—”“Afewdays!?”Anniegasped.“This isallanyonecaresabout rightnow. In

theworld.ThisisthebiggeststorysinceApollo13.Givemeafuckingpicture!”Venkatsighed.“I’lltrytogetittomorrow.”“Great!”shesaid.“Lookingforwardtoit.”

LOGENTRY:SOL98

Ihavetobewatchingthecamerawhenitspellsthingsout.It’shalfabyteatatime.SoIwatchapairofnumbers,thenlookthemuponanASCIIcheatsheetImade.That’soneletter.Idon’twanttoforgetanyletters,soIscrapethemintothedirtwitharod.The

process of looking up a letter and scraping it in the dirt takes a couple ofseconds.SometimeswhenIlookbackatthecamera,I’vemissedanumber.Icanusuallyguessitfromcontext,butothertimesIjustmissout.Today,IgotuphoursearlierthanIneededto.ItwaslikeChristmasmorning!I

couldhardlywaitfor08:00torollaround.Ihadbreakfast,didsomeunnecessarychecksonHabequipment,andreadsomePoirot.Finallythetimecame!CNHAKRVR2TLK2PTHFDRPRP4LONGMSGYeah.Tookmeaminute.“Canhack rover to talk toPathfinder. Prepare for

longmessage.”Thattooksomementalgymnasticstoworkout.Butitwasgreatnews!Ifwe

couldgetthatsetup,we’donlybelimitedbytransmissiontime!Isetupanotethatsaid,Roger.Notsurewhattheymeantby“longmessage,”butIfiguredIbetterbeready.I

wentoutfifteenminutesbeforethetopofthehourandsmoothedoutabigareaofdirt. IfoundthelongestantennarodIhad,soIcouldreachintothesmoothareawithouthavingtosteponit.ThenIstoodby.Waiting.Atexactlythetopofthehour,themessagecame.LNCHhexiditONRVRCMP,OPENFILE-/usr/lib/habcomm.so-

SCROLLTILIDXONLFTIS:2AAE5,OVRWRT141BYTSWTHDATAWE’LLSNDNXTMSG,STANDINVIEW4NXTPIC20MINFTERTHSDONEJesus.Okay…Theywantmetolaunch“hexedit”ontherover’scomputer,thenopenthefile

/usr/lib/habcomm.so, scroll until the index reading on the left of the screen is2AAE5,thenreplacethebytestherewitha141-bytesequenceNASAwillsendinthenextmessage.Fairenough.Also,forsomereason,theywantmetohangaroundforthenextpic.Notsure

why. You can’t see any part of me when I’m in the suit. Even the faceplatewouldreflecttoomuchlight.Still,it’swhattheywant.I went back in and copied down the message for future reference. Then I

wroteashortnoteandcamebackout.UsuallyI’dpinupthenoteandgobackin.ButthistimeIhadtohangaroundforaphotoop.Igavethecameraathumbs-uptogoalongwithmynote,whichsaid,Ayyyyyy!BlametheseventiesTV.

•••

“IASKforapicture,andIgettheFonz?”Annieasked,admonishingVenkat.“You got your picture, quit bitching,” he said, cradling the phone on his

shoulder. He paid more attention to the schematics in front of him than theconversation.“Ayyyyyy!”Anniemocked.“Whywouldhedothat?”“HaveyoumetMarkWatney?”“Fine,fine,”Anniesaid.“ButIwantapicofhisfaceASAP.”“Can’tdothat.”“Whynot?”“Becauseifhetakesoffhishelmet,he’lldie.Annie,Ihavetogo,oneofthe

JPLprogrammersishereandit’surgent.Bye!”“But—”Anniesaidashehungup.Jack,inthedoorway,said,“It’snoturgent.”“Yeah,Iknow,”Venkatsaid.“WhatcanIdoforyou?”“Wewerethinking,”Jackbegan.“Thisroverhackmightgetkindofdetailed.

Wemayhavetodoabunchofback-and-forthcommunicationwithWatney.”“That’sfine,”Venkatsaid.“Takeyourtime,doitright.”“Wecouldgetthingsdonefasterwithashortertransmissiontime,”Jacksaid.Venkatgavehimapuzzledlook.“DoyouhaveaplanformovingEarthand

Marsclosertogether?”“Earth doesn’t have to be involved,” Jack said. “Hermes is seventy-three

million kilometers fromMars right now. Only four light-minutes away. BethJohanssenisagreatprogrammer.ShecouldtalkMarkthroughit.”“Outofthequestion,”Venkatsaid.“She’s the mission sysop.” Jack pressed on. “This is her exact area of

expertise.”“Can’tdoit,Jack.Thecrewstilldoesn’tknow.”

“Whatiswithyou?Whywon’tyoujusttellthem?”“Watney’s not my only responsibility,” Venkat said. “I’ve got five other

astronauts indeep spacewhohave to concentrateon their return trip.Nobodythinksabout it,butstatistically they’re inmoredanger thanWatneyrightnow.He’sonaplanet.They’reinspace.”Jackshrugged.“Fine,we’lldoittheslowway.”

LOGENTRY:SOL98(2)

Evertranscribed141randombytes,one-halfofabyteatatime?It’sboring.Andit’strickywhenyoudon’thaveapen.Earlier,Ihadjustwrittenlettersinthesand.Butthistime,Ineededawayto

getthenumbersontosomethingportable.Myfirstplanwas:Usealaptop!Eachcrewmanhad theirownlaptop.SoIhavesixatmydisposal.Rather, I

had six. I now have five. I thought a laptop would be fine outside. It’s justelectronics, right? It’ll keepwarm enough to operate in the short term, and itdoesn’tneedairforanything.Itdiedinstantly.ThescreenwentblackbeforeIwasoutoftheairlock.Turns

out the“L” in“LCD”standsfor“Liquid.”Iguess iteitherfrozeorboiledoff.Maybe I’ll post a consumer review. “Brought product to surface of Mars. Itstoppedworking.0/10.”SoIusedacamera.I’vegotlotsofthem,speciallymadeforworkingonMars.

Iwrote thebytes in the sand as they came in, took apicture, then transcribedthemintheHab.It’snightnow,sonomoremessages.Tomorrow,I’llenterthisintotherover

andthegeeksatJPLcantakeitfromthere.

•••

A NOTABLE smell hung in the air of themakeshiftPathfinder control room. Theventilationsystemwasnotdesignedforsomanypeople,andeveryonehadbeenworkingeverywakingmomentwithoutmuchtimeforpersonalhygiene.“Come on up here, Jack,” said Venkat. “You get to be the most Timward

today.”“Thanks,”saidJack,takingVenkat’splacenexttoTim.“Heya,Tim!”“Jack,”saidTim.“Howlongwillthepatchtake?”Venkatasked.“Should be prettymuch instant,” Jack answered. “Watney entered the hack

earliertoday,andweconfirmeditworked.WeupdatedPathfinder’sOSwithoutany problems. We sent the rover patch, which Pathfinder rebroadcast. OnceWatneyexecutesthepatchandrebootstherover,weshouldgetaconnection.”

“Jesus,whatacomplicatedprocess,”Venkatsaid.“TryupdatingaLinuxserversometime,”Jacksaid.Afteramomentofsilence,Timsaid,“Youknowhewastellingajoke,right?

Thatwassupposedtobefunny.”“Oh,”saidVenkat.“I’maphysicsguy,notacomputerguy.”“He’snotfunnytocomputerguys,either.”“You’reaveryunpleasantman,Tim,”Jacksaid.“System’sonline,”saidTim.“What?”“It’sonline.FYI.”“Holycrap!”Jacksaid.“Itworked!”Venkatannouncedtotheroom.

•••

[11:18]JPL:Mark,thisisVenkatKapoor.We’vebeenwatchingyousinceSol49.Thewholeworld’sbeenrootingforyou.Amazingjob,gettingPathfinder.We’reworkingonrescueplans.JPLisadjustingAres4’sMDVtodoashortoverlandflight.They’llpickyouup,thentakeyouwiththemtoSchiaparelli.We’reputtingtogetherasupplymissiontokeepyoufedtillAres4arrives.

[11:29]WATNEY:Gladtohearit.Reallylookingforwardtonotdying.Iwanttomakeitclearitwasn’tthecrew’sfault.Sidequestion:WhatdidtheysaywhentheyfoundoutIwasalive?Also,“Hi,Mom!”

[11:41]JPL:Tellusaboutyour“crops.”WeestimatedyourfoodpackswouldlastuntilSol400at3/4rationpermeal.Willyourcropsaffectthatnumber?Astoyourquestion:Wehaven’ttoldthecrewyou’realiveyet.Wewantedthemtoconcentrateontheirownmission.

[11:52]WATNEY:Thecropsarepotatoes,grownfromtheonesweweresupposedtoprepareonThanksgiving.They’redoinggreat,buttheavailablefarmlandisn’tenoughforsustainability.I’llrunoutoffoodaroundSol900.Also:TellthecrewI’malive!Whatthefuckiswrongwithyou?

[12:04]JPL:We’llgetbotanistsintoaskdetailedquestionsanddouble-checkyourwork.Yourlifeisatstake,sowewanttobesure.Sol900isgreatnews.It’llgiveusalotmoretimetogetthesupplymissiontogether.Also,pleasewatchyourlanguage.Everythingyoutypeisbeingbroadcastliveallovertheworld.

[12:15]WATNEY:Look!Apairofboobs!->(.Y.)

•••

“THANKYOU,Mr.President,”Teddysaidintothephone.“Iappreciatethecall,andI’llpassyourcongratulationsontothewholeorganization.”Heterminatedthecallandputhisphoneonthecornerofhisdesk,flushwith

thedesktop’sedges.Mitchknockedontheopendoortotheoffice.“Thisagoodtime?”Mitchasked.

“Comein,Mitch,”Teddysaid.“Haveaseat.”“Thanks,”Mitch said, sitting in a fine leather couch. He reached up to his

earpieceandloweredthevolume.“How’sMissionControl?”Teddyasked.“Fantastic,” Mitch said. “All’s well withHermes. And everyone’s in great

spirits thanks to what’s going on at JPL. Today was a damn good day for achange!”“Yes, it was,” Teddy agreed. “Another step closer to getting Watney back

alive.”“Yeah,aboutthat,”saidMitch.“YouprobablyknowwhyI’mhere.”“Icantakeaguess,”saidTeddy.“YouwanttotellthecrewWatney’salive.”“Yes,”Mitchsaid.“Andyou’rebringingthisupwithmewhileVenkatisinPasadena,sohecan’t

arguetheotherside.”“I shouldn’t have to clear this with you or Venkat or anyone else. I’m the

flight director. It should have been my call from the beginning, but you twostepped inandoverrodeme. Ignoringall that,weagreedwe’d tell themwhentherewas hope.And now there’s hope.We’ve got communication,we have aplan for rescue in the works, and his farm buys us enough time to get himsupplies.”“Okay,tellthem,”Teddysaid.Mitchpaused.“Justlikethat?”“I knew you’d be here sooner or later, so I already thought it through and

decided.Goaheadandtellthem.”Mitchstoodup.“Allright.Thanks,”hesaidashelefttheoffice.Teddyswiveledinhischairandlookedouthiswindowstothenightsky.He

pondered the faint, reddot among the stars. “Hang in there,Watney,”he said.“We’recoming.”

CHAPTER12

WATNEYSLEPTpeacefullyinhisbunk.Heshiftedslightlyassomepleasantdreamputasmileonhisface.He’ddonethreeEVAsthepreviousday,allfilledwithlabor-intensiveHabmaintenance.Sohesleptdeeperandbetterthanhehadinalongtime.“Goodmorning, crew!”Lewis calledout. “It’s a brand-newday!Sol 6!Up

andat’em!”Watneyaddedhisvoicetoachorusofgroans.“Comeon,”Lewisprodded,“nobitching.Yougot fortyminutesmoresleep

thanyouwould’veonEarth.”Martinezwasfirstoutofhisbunk.Anairforceman,hecouldmatchLewis’s

navyschedulewithease.“Morning,Commander,”hesaidcrisply.Johanssensatup,butmadeno furthermove toward theharshworldoutside

herblankets.Acareersoftwareengineer,morningswereneverherforte.Vogel slowly lumbered from his bunk, checking his watch. He wordlessly

pulled on his jumpsuit, smoothing out what wrinkles he could. He sighedinwardlyatthegrimyfeelingofanotherdaywithoutashower.Watneyturnedaway,huggingapillowtohishead.“Noisypeople,goaway,”

hemumbled.“Beck!”Martinez called out, shaking themission’s doctor. “Rise and shine,

bud!”“Yeah,okay,”Becksaidblearily.Johanssenfelloutofherbunk,thenremainedonthefloor.Pulling the pillow fromWatney’s hands, Lewis said, “Let’smove,Watney!

UncleSampaidahundredthousanddollarsforeverysecondwe’llbehere.”“Badwomantakepillow,”Watneygroaned,unwillingtoopenhiseyes.“BackonEarth,I’vetippedtwo-hundred-poundmenoutoftheirbunks.Want

toseewhatIcandoin0.4g?”“No,notreally,”Watneysaid,sittingup.Havingroustedthetroops,Lewissatatthecommstationtocheckovernight

messagesfromHouston.Watneyshuffledtotherationcupboardandgrabbedabreakfastatrandom.“Handmean‘eggs,’willya,”Martinezsaid.“Youcantellthedifference?”Watneysaid,passingMartinezapack.

“Notreally,”Martinezsaid.“Beck,what’llyouhave?”Watneycontinued.“Don’tcare,”Becksaid.“Givemewhatever.”Watneytossedapacktohim.“Vogel,yourusualsausages?”“Ja,please,”Vogelresponded.“Youknowyou’reastereotype,right?”“Iamcomfortablewiththat,”Vogelreplied,takingtheprofferedbreakfast.“HeySunshine,”WatneycalledtoJohanssen.“Eatingbreakfasttoday?”“Mnrrn,”Johanssengrunted.“Prettysurethat’sano,”Watneyguessed.Thecrewateinsilence.Johansseneventuallytrudgedtotherationcupboard

and got a coffee packet. She clumsily added hot water, then sipped untilwakefulnesscreptin.“Mission updates from Houston,” Lewis said. “Satellites show a storm

coming,butwecandosurfaceopsbeforeitgetshere.Vogel,Martinez,you’llbewithmeoutside.Johanssen,you’restucktrackingweatherreports.Watney,yoursoilexperimentsarebumpeduptotoday.Beck,runthesamplesfromyesterday’sEVAthroughthespectrometer.”“Shouldyoureallygooutwithastormontheway?”Beckasked.“Houstonauthorizedit,”Lewissaid.“Seemsneedlesslydangerous.”“Coming to Mars was needlessly dangerous,” Lewis said. “What’s your

point?”Beckshrugged.“Justbecareful.”

•••

THREE FIGURES looked eastward. Their bulky EVA suits rendered them nearlyidentical.OnlytheEuropeanUnionflagonVogel’sshoulderdistinguishedhimfromLewisandMartinez,whoworetheStarsandStripes.Thedarknesstotheeastundulatedandflickeredintheraysoftherisingsun.“The storm,”Vogel said in his accentedEnglish, “it is closer thanHouston

reported.”

“We’ve got time,” Lewis said. “Focus on the task at hand. This EVA’s allaboutchemicalanalysis.Vogel,you’rethechemist,soyou’reinchargeofwhatwedigup.”“Ja,”Vogelsaid.“Pleasedigthirtycentimetersandgetsoilsamples.Atleast

onehundredgramseach.Veryimportantisthirtycentimetersdown.”“Willdo,”Lewissaid.“StaywithinahundredmetersoftheHab,”sheadded.“Mm,”Vogelsaid.“Yes,ma’am,”saidMartinez.They split up. Greatly improved since the days of Apollo, Ares EVA suits

allowed much more freedom of motion. Digging, bending over, and baggingsamplesweretrivialtasks.Afteratime,Lewisasked,“Howmanysamplesdoyouneed?”“Seveneach,perhaps?”“That’sfine,”Lewisconfirmed.“I’vegotfoursofar.”“Fivehere,”Martinezsaid.“Ofcourse,wecan’texpect thenavytokeepup

withtheairforce,nowcanwe?”“Sothat’showyouwanttoplayit?”Lewissaid.“Justcall’emasIsee’em,Commander.”“Johanssen here.” The sysop’s voice came over the radio. “Houston’s

upgradedthestormto‘severe.’It’sgoingtobehereinfifteenminutes.”“Backtobase,”Lewissaid.

•••

THEHABshookintheroaringwindastheastronautshuddledinthecenter.Allsixof themnowwore their flight space suits, incase theyhad to scramble foranemergency takeoff in the MAV. Johanssen watched her laptop while the restwatchedher.“Sustained winds over one hundred kph now,” she said. “Gusting to one

twenty-five.”“Jesus, we’re gonna end up in Oz,” Watney said. “What’s the abort wind

speed?”“Technically one fifty kph,” Martinez said. “Any more than that and the

MAV’sindangeroftipping.”

“Anypredictionsonthestormtrack?”Lewisasked.“Thisistheedgeofit,”Johanssensaid,staringatherscreen.“It’sgonnaget

worsebeforeitgetsbetter.”TheHabcanvasrippledunderthebrutalassaultastheinternalsupportsbent

andshiveredwitheachgust.Thecacophonygrewlouderbytheminute.“Allright,”Lewissaid.“Prepforabort.We’llgototheMAVandhopeforthe

best.Ifthewindgetstoohigh,we’lllaunch.”Leaving the Hab in pairs, they grouped up outside Airlock 1. The driving

windandsandbatteredthem,buttheywereabletostayontheirfeet.“Visibilityisalmostzero,”Lewissaid.“Ifyougetlost,homeinonmysuit’s

telemetry.Thewind’sgonnaberougherawayfromtheHab,sobeready.”Pressing through the gale, they stumbled toward theMAV,with Lewis and

BeckintheleadandWatneyandJohanssenbringinguptherear.“Hey,”Watney panted. “Maybewe could shore up theMAV.Make tipping

lesslikely.”“How?”Lewishuffed.“Wecouldusecablesfromthesolarfarmasguylines.”Hewheezedforafew

moments, then continued. “The rovers could be anchors. The trick would begettingthelinearoundthe—”FlyingwreckageslammedWatney,carryinghimoffintothewind.“Watney!”Johanssenexclaimed.“Whathappened?”Lewissaid.“Somethinghithim!”Johanssenreported.“Watney,report,”Lewissaid.Noreply.“Watney,report,”Lewisrepeated.Again,shewasmetwithsilence.“He’soffline,”Johanssenreported.“Idon’tknowwhereheis!”“Commander,”Becksaid,“beforewelosttelemetry,hisdecompressionalarm

wentoff!”“Shit!”Lewisexclaimed.“Johanssen,wheredidyoulastseehim?”“Hewasright in frontofmeand thenhewasgone,”shesaid.“Heflewoff

duewest.”“Okay,”Lewissaid.“Martinez,gettotheMAVandprepforlaunch.Everyone

else,homeinonJohanssen.”

“Dr.Beck,”Vogel said as he stumbled through the storm, “how long can apersonsurvivedecompression?”“Lessthanaminute,”Becksaid,emotionchokinghisvoice.“Ican’tseeanything,”Johanssensaidasthecrewcrowdedaroundher.“Line up and walk west,” Lewis commanded. “Small steps. He’s probably

prone;wedon’twanttostepoverhim.”Stayinginsightofoneanother,theytrudgedthroughthechaos.MartinezfellintotheMAVairlockandforceditclosedagainstthewind.Once

itpressurized,hequicklydoffedhissuit.Havingclimbedtheladdertothecrewcompartment,heslidintothepilot’scouchandbootedthesystem.Grabbingtheemergencylaunchchecklistwithonehand,heflickedswitches

rapidlywiththeother.Onebyone,thesystemsreportedflight-readystatus.Astheycameonline,henotedoneinparticular.“Commander,” he radioed. “TheMAV’s got a seven-degree tilt. It’ll tip at

12.3.”“Copythat,”Lewissaid.“Johanssen,”Becksaid,lookingathisarmcomputer,“Watney’sbio-monitor

sentsomethingbeforegoingoffline.Mycomputerjustsays‘BadPacket.’”“I have it, too,” Johanssen said. “It didn’t finish transmitting. Some data’s

missing,andthere’snochecksum.Gimmeasec.”“Commander,” Martinez said. “Message from Houston. We’re officially

scrubbed.Thestorm’sdefinitelygonnabetoorough.”“Copy,”Lewissaid.“They sent that four and a half minutes ago,” Martinez continued, “while

lookingatsatellitedatafromnineminutesago.”“Understood,”Lewissaid.“Continuepreppingforlaunch.”“Copy,”Martinezsaid.“Beck,”Johanssensaid.“Ihavetherawpacket.It’splaintext:BP0,PR0,TP

36.2.That’sasfarasitgot.”“Copy,” Beck said morosely. “Blood pressure zero, pulse rate zero,

temperaturenormal.”The channel fell silent for some time. They continued pressing forward,

shufflingthroughthesandstorm,hopingforamiracle.“Temperaturenormal?”Lewissaid,ahintofhopeinhervoice.“Ittakesawhileforthe—”Beckstammered.“Ittakesawhiletocool.”

“Commander,” Martinez said. “Tilting at 10.5 degrees now, with gustspushingittoeleven.”“Copy,”Lewissaid.“Areyouatpilot-release?”“Affirmative,”Martinezreplied.“Icanlaunchanytime.”“Ifittips,canyoulaunchbeforeitfallscompletelyover?”“Uh,” Martinez said, not expecting the question. “Yes, ma’am. I’d take

manual control and go full throttle. Then I’d nose up and return topreprogrammedascent.”“Copy that,”Lewis said. “Everyone home in onMartinez’s suit. That’ll get

youtotheMAVairlock.Getinandprepforlaunch.”“Whataboutyou,Commander?”Beckasked.“I’m searching a littlemore.Getmoving.AndMartinez, if you start to tip,

launch.”“YoureallythinkI’llleaveyoubehind?”Martinezsaid.“Ijustorderedyouto,”Lewisreplied.“Youthree,gettotheship.”TheyreluctantlyobeyedLewis’sorderandmadetheirwaytowardtheMAV.

Thepunishingwindfoughtthemeverystepoftheway.Unabletoseetheground,Lewisshuffledforward.Rememberingsomething,

shereachedtoherbackandgotapairofrock-drillbits.Shehadaddedtheone-meterbitstoherequipmentthatmorning,anticipatinggeologicalsamplinglaterintheday.Holdingoneineachhand,shedraggedthemalongthegroundasshewalked.After twenty meters, she turned around and walked the opposite direction.

Walking a straight line proved to be impossible.Not only did she lack visualreferences, the endless wind pushed her off course. The sheer volume ofattackingsandburiedherfeetwitheachstep.Grunting,shepressedon.Beck,Johanssen,andVogelsqueezedintotheMAVairlock.Designedfortwo,

it couldbeusedby three in emergencies.As it equalized,Lewis’svoice cameovertheradio.“Johanssen,”shesaid,“wouldtheroverIRcameradoanygood?”“Negative,” Johanssen replied. “IR can’t get through sand any better than

visiblelight.”“What’s she thinking?” Beck asked after removing his helmet. “She’s a

geologist.SheknowsIRcan’tgetthroughasandstorm.”“She is grasping,”Vogel said, opening the inner door. “Wemust get to the

couches.Pleasehurry.”

“Idon’tfeelgoodaboutthis,”Becksaid.“NeitherdoI,Doctor,”saidVogel,climbingtheladder,“butthecommander

hasgivenusorders.Insubordinationwillnothelp.”“Commander,”Martinezradioed,“we’re tilting11.6degrees.Onegoodgust

andwe’retipping.”“What about the proximity radar?” Lewis said. “Could it detect Watney’s

suit?”“Noway,”Martinezsaid.“It’smadetoseeHermesinorbit,notthemetalina

singlespacesuit.”“Giveitatry,”Lewissaid.“Commander,”saidBeck,puttingonaheadsetasheslidintohisacceleration

couch,“Iknowyoudon’twanttohearthis,butWatn—…Mark’sdead.”“Copy,”Lewissaid.“Martinez,trytheradar.”“Roger,”Martinezradioed.Hebroughttheradaronlineandwaitedforittocompleteaself-check.Glaring

atBeck,hesaid,“What’sthematterwithyou?”“Myfriendjustdied,”Beckanswered.“AndIdon’twantmycommanderto

die,too.”Martinez gave him a stern look. Turning his attention back to the radar, he

radioed,“Negativecontactonproximityradar.”“Nothing?”Lewisasked.“Itcanbarelysee theHab,”hereplied.“Thesandstorm’sfucking thingsup.

Evenifitwasn’t,there’snotenoughmetalin—Shit!”“Strapin!”heyelledtothecrew.“We’retipping!”TheMAVcreakedasittiltedfasterandfaster.“Thirteendegrees,”Johanssencalledoutfromhercouch.Bucklinghisrestraints,Vogelsaid,“Wearefarpastbalance.Wewillnotrock

back.”“Wecan’tleaveher!”Beckyelled.“Letittip,we’llfixit!”“Thirty-twometrictonsincludingfuel,”Martinezsaid,hishandsflyingover

thecontrols.“Ifithitstheground,it’lldostructuraldamagetothetanks,frame,andprobablythesecond-stageengine.We’dneverbeabletofixit.”“Youcan’tabandonher!”Becksaid.“Youcan’t.”“I’vegotonetrick.Ifthatdoesn’twork,I’mfollowingherorders.”Bringing the orbital maneuvering system online, he fired a sustained burn

fromthenoseconearray.Thesmallthrustersfoughtagainstthelumberingmassoftheslowlytiltingspacecraft.“YouarefiringtheOMS?”Vogelasked.“I don’t know if it’ll work.We’re not tipping very fast,”Martinez said. “I

thinkit’sslowingdown…”“Theaerodynamiccapswillhaveautomaticallyejected,”Vogelsaid.“Itwill

beabumpyascentwiththreeholesinthesideoftheship.”“Thanksforthetip,”Martinezsaid,maintainingtheburnandwatchingthetilt

readout.“C’mon…““Stillthirteendegrees,”Johanssenreported.“What’sgoingonupthere?”Lewisradioed.“Youwentquiet.Respond.”“Standby,”Martinezreplied.“Twelvepointninedegrees,”Johanssensaid.“Itisworking,”Vogelsaid.“Fornow,”Martinezsaid.“Idon’tknowifmaneuveringfuelwilllast.”“Twelvepointeightnow,”Johanssensupplied.“OMSfuelatsixtypercent,”Becksaid.“Howmuchdoyouneedtodockwith

Hermes?”“TenpercentifIdon’tfuckanythingup,”Martinezsaid,adjustingthethrust

angle.“Twelvepointsix,”Johanssensaid.“We’retippingback.”“Orthewinddieddownalittle,”Beckpostulated.“Fuelatforty-fivepercent.”“There isdangerofdamage to thevents,”Vogel cautioned. “TheOMSwas

notmadeforprolongedthrusts.”“Iknow,”Martinezsaid.“IcandockwithoutnoseventsifIhaveto.”“Almostthere…,”Johanssensaid.“Okaywe’reunder12.3.”“OMScutoff,”Martinezannounced,terminatingtheburn.“Stilltippingback,”Johanssensaid.“11.6…11.5…holdingat11.5.”“OMSFuelattwenty-twopercent,”Becksaid.“Yeah,Iseethat,”Martinezreplied.“It’llbeenough.”“Commander,”Beckradioed,“youneedtogettotheshipnow.”“Agreed,”Martinezradioed.“He’sgone,ma’am.Watney’sgone.”Thefourcrewmatesawaitedtheircommander’sresponse.“Copy,”shefinallyreplied.“Onmyway.”

They lay in silence, strapped to their couches and ready for launch. BecklookedatWatney’semptycouchandsawVogeldoingthesame.Martinezranaself-checkonthenoseconeOMSthrusters.Theywerenolongersafeforuse.Henotedthemalfunctioninhislog.Theairlockcycled.Afterremovinghersuit,Lewismadeherwaytotheflight

cabin. She wordlessly strapped into her couch, her face a frozen mask. OnlyMartinezdaredspeak.“Stillatpilot-release,”hesaidquietly.“Readyforlaunch.”Lewisclosedhereyesandnodded.“I’msorry,Commander,”Martinezsaid.“Youneedtoverbally—”“Launch,”shesaid.“Yes,ma’am,”hereplied,activatingthesequence.The retaining clamps ejected from the launch gantry, falling to the ground.

Seconds later,preignitionpyros fired, igniting themainengines,and theMAVlurchedupward.The ship slowly gained speed. As it did, wind shear blew it laterally off

course.Sensingtheproblem,theascentsoftwareangledtheshipintothewindtocounteractit.As fuel was consumed, the ship got lighter, and the acceleration more

pronounced.Risingatthisexponentialrate,thecraftquicklyreachedmaximumacceleration,alimitdefinednotbytheship’spower,butbythedelicatehumanbodiesinside.As the ship soared, theopenOMSports took their toll.Thecrew rocked in

theircouchesasthecraftshookviolently.Martinezandtheascentsoftwarekeptittrim,thoughitwasaconstantbattle.Theturbulencetaperedoffandeventuallyfelltonothingastheatmospherebecamethinnerandthinner.Suddenly, all force stopped. The first stage had been completed. The crew

experienced weightlessness for several seconds, then were pressed back intotheir couches as the next stage began. Outside, the now-empty first stage fellaway,eventuallytocrashonsomeunknownareaoftheplanetbelow.Thesecondstagepushedtheshipeverhigher,andintoloworbit.Lastingless

timethanthemassivefirststage,andthrustingmuchmoresmoothly,itseemedalmostlikeanafterthought.Abruptly, the engine stopped, and an oppressive calm replaced the previous

cacophony.“Main engine shutdown,” Martinez said. “Ascent time: eight minutes,

fourteenseconds.OncourseforHermesintercept.”Normally, an incident-free launchwould be cause for celebration. This one

earnedonlysilencebrokenbyJohanssen’sgentlesobbing.

•••

Fourmonthslater…Beck tried not to think about the painful reason hewas doing zero-g plant

growthexperiments.Henotedthesizeandshapeofthefernleaves,tookphotos,andmadenotes.Having completed his science schedule for the day, he checked his watch.

Perfect timing.Thedatadumpwouldbe completing soon.He floatedpast thereactortotheSemicone-Aladder.Traveling feet-first along the ladder, he soonhad togrip it in earnest as the

centripetal force of the rotating ship took hold. By the time he reachedSemicone-Ahewasat0.4g.Nomere luxury, thecentripetalgravityofHermeskept themfit.Without it,

they would have spent their first week on Mars barely able to walk. Zero-gexercise regimens could keep the heart and bones healthy, but none had beendevisedthatwouldgivethemfullfunctionfromSol1.Because the ship was already designed for it, they used the system on the

returntripaswell.Johanssen sat at her station.Lewis sat in the adjacent seatwhileVogel and

Martinezhoverednearby.Thedatadumpcarriede-mailsandvideosfromhome.Itwasthehighpointoftheday.“Isithereyet?”Beckaskedasheenteredthebridge.“Almost,”Johanssensaid.“Ninety-eightpercent.”“You’relookingcheerful,Martinez,”Becksaid.“My son turned three yesterday.”He beamed. “Should be some pics of the

party.Howaboutyou?”“Nothing special,”Beck said. “Peer reviewsof a paper Iwrote a fewyears

back.”“Complete,”Johanssensaid.“Allthepersonale-mailsaredispatchedtoyour

laptops.Alsothere’sa telemetryupdateforVogelandasystemupdateforme.Huh…there’savoicemessageaddressedtothewholecrew.”

ShelookedoverhershouldertoLewis.Lewisshrugged.“Playit.”Johanssenopenedthemessage,thensatback.“Hermes,thisisMitchHenderson,”themessagebegan.“Henderson?” Martinez said, puzzled. “Talking directly to us without

CAPCOM?”Lewisheldherhanduptosignalforsilence.“Ihavesomenews,”Mitch’svoicecontinued.“There’snosubtlewaytoput

this:MarkWatney’sstillalive.”Johanssengasped.“Wha—”Beckstammered.Vogel stoodwithhismouthagapeasa shockedexpression sweptacrosshis

face.MartinezlookedtoLewis.Sheleanedforwardandpinchedherchin.“Iknowthat’sasurprise,”Mitchcontinued.“AndIknowyou’llhavealotof

questions.We’regoingtoanswerthosequestions.ButfornowI’lljustgiveyouthebasics.“He’saliveandhealthy.Wefoundouttwomonthsagoanddecidednottotell

you;weevencensoredpersonalmessages.Iwasstronglyagainstallthat.We’retellingyounowbecausewefinallyhavecommunicationwithhimandaviablerescueplan.ItboilsdowntoAres4pickinghimupwithamodifiedMDV.“We’llgetyoua fullwrite-upofwhathappened,but it’sdefinitelynotyour

fault.Markstressesthateverytimeitcomesup.Itwasjustbadluck.“Take some time to absorb this. Your science schedules are cleared for

tomorrow.Sendall thequestionsyouwantandwe’ll answer them.Hendersonout.”Themessage’sendbroughtstunnedsilencetothebridge.“He…He’salive?”Martinezsaid,thensmiled.Vogelnoddedexcitedly.“Helives.”Johanssenstaredatherscreeninwide-eyeddisbelief.“Holyshit,”Becklaughed.“Holyshit!Commander!He’salive!”“Ilefthimbehind,”Lewissaidquietly.The celebrations ceased immediately as the crew saw their commander’s

expression.“But,”Beckbegan,“wealllefttogeth—”

“You followed orders,” Lewis interrupted. “I left him behind. In a barren,unreachable,godforsakenwasteland.”Beck looked toMartinez pleadingly.Martinez opened hismouth, but could

findnowordstosay.Lewistrudgedoffthebridge.

CHAPTER13

TheemployeesofDeyoPlasticsworkeddoubleshifts to finish theHabcanvasforAres3.Therewastalkoftripleshifts,ifNASAincreasedtheorderagain.Nooneminded.Theovertimepaywasspectacular,andthefundingwaslimitless.Woven carbon thread ran slowly through the press, which sandwiched it

between polymer sheets. The completed material was folded four times andglued together. The resulting thick sheet was then coated with soft resin andtakentothehot-roomtoset.

LOGENTRY:SOL114

NowthatNASAcantalktome,theywon’tshutthehellup.TheywantconstantupdatesoneveryHabsystem,andthey’vegotaroomfull

of people trying tomicromanagemy crops. It’s awesome to have a bunch ofdipshitsonEarthtellingme,abotanist,howtogrowplants.Imostlyignorethem.Idon’twant tocomeoffasarroganthere,butI’mthe

bestbotanistontheplanet.Onebigbonus:e-mail!JustlikethedaysbackonHermes,Igetdatadumps.

Ofcourse,theyrelaye-mailfromfriendsandfamily,butNASAalsosendsalongchoicemessages from the public. I’ve gotten e-mail from rock stars, athletes,actorsandactresses,andeventhePresident.Oneof themwasfrommyalmamater, theUniversityofChicago.Theysay

once you grow crops somewhere, you have officially “colonized” it. Sotechnically,IcolonizedMars.Inyourface,NeilArmstrong!Butmyfavoritee-mailwastheonefrommymother.It’sexactlywhatyou’d

expect.ThankGodyou’re alive, stay strong, don’t die, your father sayshello,etc.Ireaditfiftytimesinarow.Hey,don’tgetmewrong,I’mnotamama’sboy

or anything. I’m a full-grownmanwho only occasionallywears diapers (youhavetoinanEVAsuit).It’stotallymanlyandnormalformetoclingtoaletterfrommymom.It’snotlikeI’msomehomesickkidatcamp,right?Admittedly, I have to schlep to the rover five times a day to check e-mail.

They can get amessage fromEarth toMars, but they can’t get it another tenmeterstotheHab.Buthey,Ican’tbitch.Myoddsoflivingthroughthisarewayhighernow.Last I heard, they’d solved the weight problem onAres 4’sMDV.Once it

landshere,they’llditchtheheatshield,allthelifesupportstuff,andabunchofemptyfueltanks.Thentheycantakethesevenofus(Ares4’screwplusme)alltheway toSchiaparelli.They’re alreadyworkingonmyduties for the surfaceops.Howcoolisthat?In other news, I’m learning Morse code. Why? Because it’s our backup

communicationssystem.NASAfiguredadecades-oldprobeisn’tidealasasolemeansofcommunication.IfPathfindercrapsout,I’llspellmessageswithrocks,whichNASAwillsee

withsatellites.Theycan’treply,butatleastwe’dhaveone-waycommunication.WhyMorse code?Becausemaking dots and dasheswith rocks is a lot easierthanmakingletters.It’sashittywaytocommunicate.Hopefullyitwon’tcomeup.

Allchemicalreactionscomplete, thesheetwassterilizedandmovedtoacleanroom.There,aworkercutastripoff theedge,dividedit intosquares,andputeachthroughaseriesofrigoroustests.Having passed inspection, the sheetwas then cut to shape. The edgeswere

foldedover, sewn,andresealedwithresin.Amanwithaclipboardmade finalinspections,independentlyverifyingthemeasurements,thenapproveditforuse.

LOGENTRY:SOL115

ThemeddlingbotanistshavegrudginglyadmittedIdidagoodjob.TheyagreeI’ll have enough food to last till Sol 900. Bearing that in mind, NASA hasfleshedoutthemissiondetailsofthesupplyprobe.Atfirst,theywereworkingonadesperateplantogetaprobeherebeforeSol

400.ButIboughtanotherfivehundredsolsoflifewithmypotatofarm,sotheyhavemoretimetoworkonit.They’lllaunchnextyearduringtheHohmannTransferWindow,andit’lltake

almostninemonthstogethere.ItshouldarrivearoundSol856.It’llhaveplentyof food, a spare oxygenator,water reclaimer, and comm system.Three commsystems,actually.Iguesstheyaren’ttakinganychances,whatwithmyhabitofbeingnearbywhenradiosbreak.Gotmyfirste-mailfromHermestoday.NASA’sbeenlimitingdirectcontact.I

guess they’re afraid I’ll say something like “YouabandonedmeonMars, youassholes!” I know the crew was surprised to hear from the Ghost of MarsMissions Past, but c’mon! I wish NASA was less of a nanny sometimes.Anyway,theyfinallyletonee-mailthroughfromtheCommander:

Watney,obviouslywe’reveryhappytohearyousurvived.Asthepersonresponsibleforyoursituation,IwishtherewasmoreIcoulddotodirectlyhelp.ButitlookslikeNASAhasagoodrescueplan.I’msureyou’llcontinuetoshowyourincredibleresourcefulnessandgetthroughthis.LookingforwardtobuyingyouabeerbackonEarth.

—Lewis

Myreply:

Commander,purebadluckisresponsibleformysituation,notyou.Youmadetherightcallandsavedeveryoneelse.Iknowitmusthavebeenatoughdecision,butanyanalysisofthatdaywillshowitwastherightone.GeteveryoneelsehomeandI’llbehappy.

Iwilltakeyouuponthatbeer,though.—Watney

The employees carefully folded the sheet and placed it in an argon-filledairtightshippingcontainer.Themanwiththeclipboardplacedastickeronthepackage.“ProjectAres3;HabCanvas;SheetAL102.”ThepackagewasplacedonacharterplaneandflowntoEdwardsAirForce

Base inCalifornia. It flew abnormally high, at great cost of fuel, to ensure asmootherflight.Upon arrival, the package was carefully transported by special convoy to

Pasadena.Once there, itwasmoved to the JPL Spacecraft AssemblyFacility.Overthenextfiveweeks,engineersinwhitebodysuitsassembledPresupply309.

ItcontainedAL102aswellastwelveotherHabCanvaspackages.

LOGENTRY:SOL116

It’salmosttimeforthesecondharvest.Ayup.IwishIhadastrawhatandsomesuspenders.Myreseedofthepotatoeswentwell.I’mbeginningtoseethatcropsonMars

are extremely prolific, thanks to the billions of dollars’ worth of life supportequipmentaroundme.Inowhavefourhundredhealthypotatoplants,eachonemaking lots of calorie-filled taters for my dining enjoyment. In just ten daysthey’llberipe!And this time, I’mnot replanting themasseed.This ismyfoodsupply.All

natural,organic,Martian-grownpotatoes.Don’thearthateveryday,doyou?YoumaybewonderinghowI’llstorethem.Ican’tjustpilethemup;mostof

them would go bad before I got around to eating them. So instead, I’ll dosomethingthatwouldn’tworkatallonEarth:throwthemoutside.Most of the water will be sucked out by the near-vacuum; what’s left will

freezesolid.Anybacteriaplanningtorotmytaterswilldiescreaming.Inothernews,Igotane-mailfromVenkatKapoor:

Mark,someanswerstoyourearlierquestions:No,wewillnottellourBotanyTeamto“Gofuckthemselves.”Iunderstandyou’vebeenonyourownforalongtime,but

we’reintheloopnow,andit’sbestifyoulistentowhatwehavetosay.TheCubsfinishedtheseasonatthebottomoftheNLCentral.Thedatatransferratejustisn’tgoodenoughforthesizeofmusicfiles,evenincompressedformats.Soyourrequestfor

“Anything,ohGod,ANYTHINGbutDisco”isdenied.Enjoyyourboogiefever.Also,anuncomfortablesidenote…NASAisputtingtogetheracommittee.Theywanttoseeiftherewereanyavoidable

mistakesthatledyoutobeingstranded.Justaheads-up.Theymayhavequestionsforyoulateron.Keepuspostedonyouractivities.—Kapoor

Myreply:

Venkat,telltheinvestigationcommitteethey’llhavetodotheirwitchhuntwithoutme.AndwhentheyinevitablyblameCommanderLewis,beadvisedI’llpubliclyrefuteit.I’msuretherestofthecrewwilldothesame.

Also,pleasetellthemthateachandeveryoneoftheirmothersisaprostitute.—WatneyPS:Theirsisters,too.

ThepresupplyprobesforAres3launchedonfourteenconsecutivedaysduringtheHohmannTransferWindow.Presupply309waslaunchedthird.The251-daytriptoMarswasuneventful,needingonlytwominorcourseadjustments.Afterseveralaerobrakingmaneuvers toslowdown, itmade its finaldescent

toward Acidalia Planitia. First, it endured reentry via a heat shield. Later, it

releasedaparachuteanddetachedthenow-expendedshield.Once itsonboardradardetected itwas thirtymeters fromtheground, itcut

loose the parachute and inflated balloons all around its hull. It fellunceremoniously to the surface, bouncing and rolling, until it finally came torest.Deflatingitsballoons,theonboardcomputerreportedthesuccessfullanding

backtoEarth.Thenitwaitedtwenty-threemonths.

LOGENTRY:SOL117

Thewaterreclaimerisactingup.Sixpeoplewillgothrough18litersofwaterperday.Soit’smadetoprocess

20.Butlately,ithasn’tbeenkeepingup.It’sdoing10,tops.DoIgenerate10litersofwaterperday?No,I’mnottheurinatingchampion

ofalltime.It’sthecrops.ThehumidityinsidetheHabisalothigherthanitwasdesignedfor,sothewaterreclaimerisconstantlyfilteringitoutoftheair.I’mnotworriedabout it. Ifneedbe, Icanpissdirectlyonto theplants.The

plantswill take their shareofwater and the restwill condenseon thewalls. Icouldmakesomethingtocollectthecondensation,I’msure.Thingis,thewatercan’tgoanywhere.It’saclosedsystem.Okay, technically I’m lying. The plants aren’t entirely water-neutral. They

stripthehydrogenfromsomeofit(releasingtheoxygen)anduseittomakethecomplexhydrocarbons thatare theplant itself.But it’saverysmall lossand Imadelike600litersofwaterfromMDVfuel.Icouldtakebathsandstillhaveplentyleftover.NASA,however,isabsolutelyshittingitself.Theyseethewaterreclaimerasa

critical survival element. There’s no backup, and they think I’ll die instantlywithoutit.Tothem,equipmentfailureisterrifying.Tome,it’s“Tuesday.”Soinsteadofpreparingformyharvest,Ihavetomakeextratripstoandfrom

therovertoanswertheirquestions.Eachnewmessageinstructsmetotrysomenewsolutionandreporttheresultsback.So far as we’ve worked out it’s not the electronics, refrigeration system,

instrumentation, or temperature. I’m sure it’ll turn out to be a little holesomewhere, thenNASAwillhave fourhoursofmeetingsbefore tellingme tocoveritwithducttape.

LewisandBeckopenedPresupply309.WorkingasbesttheycouldintheirbulkyEVAsuits,theyremovedthevariousportionsofHabcanvasandlaidthemontheground.ThreeentirepresupplyprobeswerededicatedtotheHab.Followingaprocedure theyhadpracticedhundredsof times, theyefficiently

assembled the pieces. Special seal-strips between the patches ensured airtightmating.After erecting the main structure of the Hab, they assembled the three

airlocks.SheetAL102hadaholeperfectlysizedforAirlock1.Beckstretchedthe

sheettighttotheseal-stripsontheairlock’sexterior.Onceallairlockswere inplace,Lewis flooded theHabwithairandAL102

feltpressureforthefirsttime.LewisandBeckwaitedanhour.Nopressurewaslost;thesetuphadbeenperfect.

LOGENTRY:SOL118

MyconversationwithNASAaboutthewaterreclaimerwasboringandriddledwithtechnicaldetails.SoI’llparaphraseitforyou:Me:“Thisisobviouslyaclog.HowaboutItakeitapartandchecktheinternal

tubing?”NASA:(afterfivehoursofdeliberation)“No.You’llfuckitupanddie.”SoItookitapart.Yeah, I know.NASAhas a lot of ultra-smart people and I should really do

what they say. And I’m being too adversarial, considering they spend all dayworkingonhowtosavemylife.Ijustgetsickofbeingtoldhowtowipemyass.Independencewasoneofthe

qualities they looked forwhen choosingAres astronauts. It’s a thirteen-monthmission, most of it spent many light-minutes away from Earth. They wantedpeoplewhowouldactontheirowninitiative.IfCommanderLewiswerehere,I’ddowhatevershesaid,noproblem.Buta

committeeoffacelessbureaucratsbackonEarth?Sorry,I’mjusthavingatoughtimewithit.I was really careful. I labeled every piece as I dismantled it, and laid

everythingoutonatable.Ihavetheschematicsinthecomputer,sonothingwasasurprise.AndjustasI’dsuspected,therewasacloggedtube.Thewaterreclaimerwas

designedtopurifyurineandstrainhumidityoutoftheair(youexhalealmostasmuch water as you piss). I’ve mixed my water with soil, making it mineralwater.Themineralsbuiltupinthewaterreclaimer.Icleanedoutthetubingandputitallbacktogether.Itcompletelysolvedthe

problem.I’llhavetodoitagainsomeday,butnotforahundredsolsorso.Nobigdeal.ItoldNASAwhatIdid.Our(paraphrased)conversationwas:Me:“Itookitapart,foundtheproblem,andfixedit.”NASA:“Dick.”

AL102shudderedinthebrutalstorm.Withstandingforcesfargreaterthanitwasdesignedfor,itrippledviolentlyagainsttheairlockseal-strip.Othersectionsofcanvasundulatedalong their seal-strips together,actingasa single sheet, butAL102hadnosuchluxury.Theairlockbarelymoved,leavingAL102totakethe

fullforceofthetempest.Thelayersofplastic,constantlybending,heatedtheresinfrompurefriction.

Thenew,moreyieldingenvironmentallowedthecarbonfiberstoseparate.AL102stretched.Notmuch.Onlyfourmillimeters.Butthecarbonfibers,usually500microns

apart,nowhadagapeighttimesthatwidthintheirmidst.After the storm abated, the lone remaining astronaut performed a full

inspection of theHab. But he didn’t notice anything amiss. The weak part ofcanvaswasconcealedbyaseal-strip.Designed for a mission of thirty-one sols, AL102 continued well past its

planned expiration. Sol after solwent by,with the lone astronaut traveling inand out of theHab almost daily. Airlock 1 was closest to the rover chargingstation,sotheastronautpreferredittotheothertwo.When pressurized, the airlock expanded slightly; when depressurized, it

shrunk.Everytimetheastronautusedtheairlock,thestrainonAL102relaxed,thentightenedanew.Pulling,stressing,weakening,stretching…

LOGENTRY:SOL119

IwokeuplastnighttotheHabshaking.Themedium-grade sandstorm ended as suddenly as it began. Itwas only a

categorythreestormwith50kphwinds.Nothingtoworryabout.Still,it’sabitdisconcertingtohearhowlingwindswhenyou’reusedtouttersilence.I’mworriedaboutPathfinder.Ifthesandstormdamagedit,I’llhavelostmy

connection to NASA. Logically, I shouldn’t worry. The thing’s been on thesurfacefordecades.Alittlegalewon’tdoanyharm.WhenIheadoutside,I’llconfirmPathfinder’sstillfunctionalbeforemoving

ontothesweaty,annoyingworkoftheday.Yes,witheachsandstormcomestheinevitableCleaningoftheSolarCells,a

time-honoredtraditionamongheartyMartianssuchasmyself.Itremindsmeofgrowingup inChicagoandhaving to shovel snow. I’llgivemydadcredit;heneverclaimeditwastobuildcharacterorteachmethevalueofhardwork.“Snowblowersareexpensive,”heusedtosay.“You’refree.”Once,Itriedtoappealtomymom.“Don’tbesuchawuss,”shesuggested.Inothernews,it’ssevensolstilltheharvest,andIstillhaven’tprepared.For

starters, I need tomake a hoe.Also, I need tomake an outdoor shed for thepotatoes.Ican’tjustpilethemupoutside.ThenextmajorstormwouldcausetheGreatMartianPotatoMigration.Anyway,allthatwillhavetowait.I’vegotafulldaytoday.Aftercleaningthe

solarcells,Ihavetocheckthewholesolararraytomakesurethestormdidn’thurtit.ThenI’llneedtodothesamefortherover.Ibettergetstarted.

•••

AIRLOCK 1 SLOWLY depressurized to 0.006 atmospheres.Watney, wearing an EVAsuit, stood inside itwaiting for the cycle to complete.Hehaddone it literallyhundredsoftimes.AnyapprehensionhemayhavehadonSol1waslonggone.Nowitwasmerelyaboringchorebeforeexitingtothesurface.As the depressurization continued, the Hab’s atmosphere compressed the

airlock,andAL102stretchedforthelasttime.

OnSol119,theHabbreached.Theinitialtearwaslessthanonemillimeter.Theperpendicularcarbonfibers

shouldhavepreventedtheripfromgrowing.Butcountlessabuseshadstretchedtheverticalfibersapartandweakenedthehorizontalonesbeyonduse.The full forceof theHab’s atmosphere rushed through thebreach.Withina

tenthofasecond,theripwasameterlong,runningparalleltotheseal-strip.Itpropagatedallthewayarounduntilitmetitsstartingpoint.TheairlockwasnolongerattachedtotheHab.Theunopposedpressure launched theairlock likeacannonballas theHab’s

atmosphereexplosivelyescapedthroughthebreach.Inside,thesurprisedWatneyslammedagainsttheairlock’sbackdoorwiththeforceoftheexpulsion.The airlock flew forty meters before hitting the ground. Watney, barely

recoveredfromtheearliershock,nowenduredanotherashehitthefrontdoor,face-first.His faceplate took the brunt of the blow, the safety glass shattering into

hundreds of small cubes. His head slammed against the inside of the helmet,knockinghimsenseless.Theairlocktumbledacrossthesurfaceforafurtherfifteenmeters.Theheavy

paddingofWatney’ssuitsavedhimfrommanybrokenbones.Hetriedtomakesenseofthesituation,buthewasbarelyconscious.Finallydonetumbling,theairlockrestedonitssideamidacloudofdust.Watney,onhisback,staredblanklyupwardthroughtheholeinhisshattered

faceplate.Agashinhisforeheadtrickledblooddownhisface.Regainingsomeofhiswits,hegothisbearings.Turninghisheadtotheside,

he looked through the back door’swindow. The collapsedHab rippled in thedistance,ajunkyardofdebrisstrewnacrossthelandscapeinfrontofit.Then,ahissingsoundreachedhisears.Listeningcarefully,herealizeditwas

notcomingfromhissuit.Somewhereinthephonebooth–sizedairlock,asmallbreachwaslettingairescape.Helistenedintentlytothehiss,thenhetouchedhisbrokenfaceplate.Thenhe

lookedoutthewindowagain.“Youfuckingkiddingme?”hesaid.

CHAPTER14

AUDIOLOGTRANSCRIPT:SOL119

You know what!? Fuck this! Fuck this airlock, fuck that Hab, and fuck thiswholeplanet!Seriously,thisisit!I’vehadit!I’vegotafewminutesbeforeIrunoutofair

and I’ll be damned if I spend them playing Mars’s little game. I’m so goddamnedsickofitIcouldpuke!AllIhavetodoissithere.TheairwillleakoutandI’lldie.I’ll be done. Nomore gettingmy hopes up, nomore self-delusion, and no

moreproblem-solving.I’vefuckinghadit!

AUDIOLOGTRANSCRIPT:SOL119(2)

Sigh…okay.I’vehadmytantrumandnowIhavetofigureouthowtostayalive.Again.Okay,let’sseewhatIcandohere.…I’m in theairlock. I can see theHabout thewindow; it’s agood50meters

away.Normally,theairlockisattachedtotheHab.Sothat’saproblem.Theairlock’sonitsside,andIcanhearasteadyhiss.Soeitherit’sleakingor

therearesnakesinhere.Eitherway,I’mintrouble.Also,duringthe…whateverthefuckhappened…Igotbouncedaroundlikea

pinball and smashed my faceplate. Air is notoriously uncooperative when itcomestogiant,gapingholesinyourEVAsuit.Looks like theHab iscompletelydeflatedandcollapsed.Soeven if Ihada

functionalEVAsuit to leave theairlockwith, Iwouldn’thaveanywhere togo.Sothatsucks.Igottathinkforaminute.AndIhavetogetoutofthisEVAsuit.It’sbulky,

andtheairlockiscramped.Besides,it’snotlikeit’sdoingmeanygood.

AUDIOLOGTRANSCRIPT:SOL119(3)

Thingsaren’tasbadastheyseem.I’mstillfucked,mindyou.Justnotasdeeply.Not sure what happened to the Hab, but the rover’s probably fine. It’s not

ideal,butatleastit’snotaleakyphonebooth.IhaveapatchkitonmyEVAsuit,ofcourse.Thesamekindthatsavedmylife

backonSol6.Butdon’tgetexcited.Itwon’tdothesuitanygood.Thepatchkitisacone-shapedvalvewithsuper-stickyresinonthewideend.It’sjusttoosmalltodealwithaholelargerthaneightcentimeters.Andreally,ifyouhaveanine-centimeterhole,you’regoingtobedeadwaybeforeyoucouldwhipoutthekit.Still,it’sanasset,andmaybeIcanuseittostoptheairlockleak.Andthat’s

mytoppriorityrightnow.It’sasmallleak.Withthefaceplategone,theEVAsuitiseffectivelymanaging

thewholeairlock.It’sbeenaddingairtomakeupforthemissingpressure.Butit’llrunouteventually.Ineedtofindthe leak.I thinkit’snearmyfeet, judgingbythesound.Now

thatI’moutofthesuit,Icanturnaroundandgetalook.…Idon’t see anything.… I can hear it, but…it’s downhere somewhere, but I

don’tknowwhere.Icanonlythinkofonewaytofindit:Startafire!Yeah,Iknow.Alotofmyideas involvesettingsomethingonfire.Andyes,

deliberatelystartingafireinatiny,enclosedspaceisusuallyaterribleidea.ButIneedthesmoke.Justalittlewispofit.Asusual, I’mworkingwithstuff thatwasdeliberatelydesignednot toburn.

ButnoamountofcarefuldesignbyNASAcangetaroundadeterminedarsonistwithatankofpureoxygen.Unfortunately,theEVAsuitismadeentirelyofnonflammablematerials.Sois

theairlock.Myclothesarefireproofaswell,eventhethread.I was originally planning to check the solar array, doing repairs as needed

afterlastnight’sstorm.SoIhavemytoolboxwithme.Butlookingthroughit,Iseeit’sallmetalornonflammableplastic.IjustrealizedIdohavesomethingflammable:myownhair.It’llhavetodo.

There’s a sharpknife in the toolkit. I’ll shave somearmhairsoff into a littlepile.

Nextstep:oxygen.Idon’thaveanythingsorefinedaspureoxygenflow.AllIcandoismuckwiththeEVAsuitcontrolstoincreaseoxygenpercentageinthewholeairlock.Ifigurebumpingitto40percentwilldo.AllIneednowisaspark.TheEVAsuithaselectronics,butitrunsonverylowvoltage.Idon’tthinkI

couldget an arcwith it.Besides, I don’twant tomesswith the suit. I need itworkingtogetfromtheairlocktotherover.The airlock itself has electronics, but it ran on Hab power. I guess NASA

neverconsideredwhatwouldhappenifitwaslaunchedfiftymeters.Lazybums.Plasticmight not burn, but anyonewho’s playedwith a balloon knows it’s

great at building up static charge.Once I do that, I should be able tomake asparkjustbytouchingametaltool.Funfact:ThisisexactlyhowtheApollo1crewdied.Wishmeluck!

AUDIOLOGTRANSCRIPT:SOL119(4)

I’minaboxfullofburning-hairsmell.It’snotagoodsmell.Onmyfirst try, thefire lit,but thesmoke justdriftedrandomlyaround.My

ownbreathingwasscrewingitup.SoIheldmybreathandtriedagain.Mysecondtry,theEVAsuitthreweverythingoff.There’sagentleflowofair

comingoutofthefaceplateasthesuitconstantlyreplacesthemissingair.SoIshut the suit down, held my breath, and tried again. I had to be quick; thepressurewasdropping.My third try, the quick arm movements I used to set the fire messed

everythingup.Justmovingaroundmakesenoughturbulencetosendthesmokeeverywhere.ThefourthtimeIkeptthesuitturnedoff,heldmybreath,andwhenthetime

cametolight thefire,Ididitveryslowly.ThenIwatchedas thelittlewispofsmoke drifted toward the floor of the airlock, disappearing through a hairlinefracture.Ihaveyounow,littleleak!IgaspedforairandturnedtheEVAsuitbackon.Thepressurehaddroppedto

0.9atmospheresduringmylittleexperiment.Buttherewasplentyofoxygenintheair formeandmyhair-fire tobreathe.The suitquicklygot thingsback tonormal.Lookingatthefracture,Iseethatit’sprettytiny.Itwouldbeacinchtosealit

withthesuit’spatchkit,butnowthatIthinkaboutit,that’sabadidea.I’llneedtodosomekindofrepairtothefaceplate.Idon’tknowhowjustyet,

but the patch kit and its pressure-resistant resin are probably really important.And I can’t do it bit bybit, either.Once I break the seal on thepatchkit, thebinarycomponentsoftheresinmixandIhavesixtysecondsbeforeithardens.Ican’tjusttakealittletofixtheairlock.Giventime,Imightbeabletocomeupwithaplanforthefaceplate.Then,I

could take a few seconds during that plan to scrape resin over the airlockfracture.ButIdon’thavetime.I’mdownto40percentofmyN2tank.Ineedtosealthatfracturenow,andI

needtodoitwithoutusingthepatchkit.First idea: Little Dutch Boy. I’m licking my palm and placing it over the

crack.

Okay…I can’t quitemake a perfect seal, so there’s airflow…getting coldernow…gettingprettyuncomfortable…Okay,fuckthis.Ontoideanumbertwo.Tape!Ihaveducttapeinmytoolbox.Let’sslapsomeonandseeifitslowstheflow.

Iwonderhowlongitwilllastbeforethepressureripsit.Puttingitonnow.Therewego…stillholding…Lemmecheckthesuit.…Readoutssaythepressureisstable.Lookslike the

ducttapemadeagoodseal.Let’sseeifitholds.…

AUDIOLOGTRANSCRIPT:SOL119(5)

It’sbeenfifteenminutes,andthetapeisstillholding.Lookslikethatproblemissolved.Sort of anticlimactic, really. I was already working out how to cover the

breachwithice.IhavetwolitersofwaterintheEVAsuit’s“hamster-feeder.”Icouldhaveshutoffthesuit’sheatingsystemsandlettheairlockcooltofreezing.ThenI’d…Well,whatever.Couldadoneitwithice.I’mjustsayin’.Allright.Ontomynextproblem:HowdoIfixtheEVAsuit?Ducttapemight

sealahairlinecrack,butitcan’tholdanatmosphereofpressureagainstthesizeofmybrokenfaceplate.Thepatchkit is toosmall,but stilluseful. I canspread the resinaround the

edge of where the faceplate was, then stick something on to cover the hole.Problemis,whatdoIusetocoverthehole?Somethingthatcanstanduptoalotofpressure.Lookingaround,theonlythingIseethatcanholdanatmosphereistheEVA

suit itself. There’s plenty of material to work with, and I can even cut it.Rememberwhen Iwas cuttingHab canvas into strips?Those same shears arerighthereinmytoolkit.CuttingachunkoutofmyEVAsuitleavesitwithanotherhole.ButaholeI

cancontroltheshapeandlocationof.Yeah…IthinkIseeasolutionhere.I’mgoingtocutoffmyarm!Well,no.Notmyarm.TheEVAsuit’sarm.I’llcutrightbelowtheleftelbow.

ThenIcancutalongitslength,turningitintoarectangle.It’llbebigenoughtosealthefaceplate,andit’llbeheldinplacebytheresin.Materialdesignedtowithstandatmosphericpressure?Check.Resindesignedtosealabreachagainstthatpressure?Check.Andwhataboutthegapingholeonthestumpyarm?Unlikemyfaceplate,the

suit’smaterialisflexible.I’llpressittogetherandsealitwithresin.I’llhavetopressmyleftarmagainstmysidewhileI’minthesuit,butthere’llberoom.I’llbespreading theresinpretty thin,but it’s literally thestrongestadhesive

knowntoman.Anditdoesn’thave tobeaperfectseal. It justhas to last longenoughformetogettosafety.Andwherewillthat“safety”be?Notadamnclue.

Anyway,oneproblematatime.RightnowI’mfixingtheEVAsuit.

AUDIOLOGTRANSCRIPT:SOL119(6)

Cuttingthearmoffthesuitwaseasy;sowascuttingalongitslengthtomakearectangle.Thoseshearsarestrongashell.CleaningtheglassoffthefaceplatetooklongerthanI’dexpected.It’sunlikely

itwouldpunctureEVAsuitmaterial,butI’mnottakinganychances.Besides,Idon’twantglassinmyfacewhenI’mwearingit.Thencamethetrickypart.OnceIbrokethesealonthepatchkit,Ihadsixty

secondsbefore theresinset. Iscooped itoff thepatchkitwithmyfingersandquicklyspreaditaroundtherimofthefaceplate.ThenItookwhatwasleftandsealedthearmhole.Ipressedtherectangleofsuitmaterialontothehelmetwithbothhandswhile

usingmykneetokeeppressureonthearm’sseam.IheldonuntilI’dcounted120seconds.Justtobesure.Itseemedtoworkwell.Theseallookedstrongandtheresinwasrock-hard.I

did,however,gluemyhandtothehelmet.Stoplaughing.In retrospect, using my fingers to spread the resin wasn’t the best plan.

Fortunately, my left hand was still free. After some grunting and a lot ofprofanities,Iwasabletoreachthetoolbox.OnceIgotascrewdriver,Ichiseledmyself free (feeling really stupid the whole time). It was a delicate processbecauseIdidn’twanttoflaytheskinoffmyfingers.Ihadtogetthescrewdriverbetweenthehelmetand theresin. I freedmyhandanddidn’tdrawblood,soIcallthatawin.ThoughI’llhavehardenedresinonmyfingersfordays,justlikeakidwhoplayedwithKrazyGlue.Usingthearmcomputer,Ihadthesuitoverpressurizeto1.2atmospheres.The

faceplate patch bowed outward but otherwise held firm. The arm filled in,threateningtotearthenewseam,butstayedinonepiece.ThenIwatchedthereadoutstoseehowairtightthingswere.Answer:Notvery.It absolutely pissed the air out. In sixty seconds it leaked so much it

pressurizedthewholeairlockto1.2atmospheres.Thesuitisdesignedforeighthoursofuse.Thatworksoutto250millilitersof

liquidoxygen.Just tobesafe, thesuithasafull literofO2capacity.Butthat’sonlyhalfthestory.Therestoftheairisnitrogen.It’sjusttheretoaddpressure.

Whenthesuitleaks,that’swhatitbackfillswith.ThesuithastwolitersofliquidN2storage.Let’scall thevolumeof theairlock twocubicmeters.The inflatedEVAsuit

probablytakesuphalfofit.Soittookfiveminutestoadd0.2atmospheresto1cubicmeter.That’s285gramsofair(trustmeonthemath).Theairinthetanksisaround1grampercubiccentimeter,meaningIjustlost285milliliters.Thethreetankscombinedhad3000milliliterstostartwith.Alotofthatwas

used to maintain pressure while the airlock was leaking. Also, my breathingturnedsomeoxygenintocarbondioxide,whichwascapturedbythesuit’sCO2

filters.Checking the readouts, I see that I have 410 milliliters of oxygen, 738

millilitersofnitrogen.Together,theymakealmost1150milliliterstoworkwith.That,dividedby285milliliterslostperminute…OnceI’moutoftheairlock,thisEVAsuitwillonlylastfourminutes.Fuck.

AUDIOLOGTRANSCRIPT:SOL119(7)

Okay,I’vebeenthinkingsomemore.Whatgoodisgoingtotherover?I’djustbetrappedthereinstead.Theextra

room would be nice, but I’d still die eventually. No water reclaimer, nooxygenator,nofood.Takeyourpick;allofthoseproblemsarefatal.IneedtofixtheHab.Iknowwhattodo;wepracticeditintraining.Butit’ll

takealongtime.I’llhavetoscroungearoundinthenow-collapsedcanvastogetthesparematerial forpatching.ThenIhave to find thebreachandseal-stripapatchinplace.Butit’lltakehourstorepair,andmyEVAsuitisuseless.I’llneedanothersuit.Martinez’susedtobeintherover.Ihauleditalltheway

to the Pathfinder site and back, just in case I needed a spare. But when Ireturned,IputitbackintheHab.Damnit!Allright,soI’llneedtogetanothersuitbeforegoingtotherover.Whichone?

Johanssen’sistoosmallforme(tinylittlegal,ourJohanssen).Lewis’sisfullofwater.Actually,bynowit’sfullofslowlysublimatingice.Themangled,glued-togethersuitIhavewithmeismyoriginalone.ThatleavesjustMartinez,Vogel,andBeck’s.IleftMartinez’snearmybunk,incaseIneededasuitinahurry.Ofcourse,

afterthatsuddendecompression,itcouldbeanywhere.Still,it’saplacetostart.Next problem: I’m like 50 meters from the Hab. Running in 0.4 g while

wearingabulkyEVAsuitisn’teasy.Atbest,Icantrundle2meterspersecond.That’saprecious25seconds;almostaneighthofmyfourminutes.I’vegot tobringthatdown.Buthow?

AUDIOLOGTRANSCRIPT:SOL119(8)

I’llrollthedamnairlock.It’sbasicallyaphoneboothonitsside.Ididsomeexperiments.IfiguredifIwantittoroll,I’llneedtohitthewallashardaspossible.AndI

have to be in the air at the time. I can’t press against some other part of theairlock.Theforceswouldcanceleachotheroutanditwouldn’tmoveatall.First I tried launchingmyselfoffonewallandslamming into theother.The

airlockslidalittle,butthat’sit.Next,I trieddoingasuper-push-uptogetairborne(0.4gyay!) thenkicking

thewallwithbothfeet.Again,itjustslid.The third time, I got it right. The trick was to plant both my feet on the

ground,nearthewall,thenlaunchmyselftothetopoftheoppositewallandhitwithmyback.WhenItriedthatjustnow,itgavemeenoughforceandleveragetotiptheairlockandrollitonefacetowardtheHab.Theairlockisameterwide,so…sigh…Ihavetodoitlikefiftymoretimes.I’mgonnahaveahellofabackacheafterthis.

AUDIOLOGTRANSCRIPT:SOL120

Ihaveahellofabackache.Thesubtleandrefined“hurlmybodyatthewall”techniquehadsomeflaws.

Itworkedonlyoneoutofeverytentries,andithurtalot.Ihadtotakebreaks,stretch out, and generally convince myself to body-slam the wall again andagain.Ittookalldamnnight,butImadeit.I’m tenmeters from theHab now. I can’t get any closer, ’cause the debris

fromthedecompressionisallovertheplace.Thisisn’tan“all-terrain”airlock.Ican’trolloverthatshit.ItwasmorningwhentheHabpopped.Nowit’smorningagain.I’vebeenin

thisdamnboxforanentireday.ButI’mleavingsoon.I’mintheEVAsuitnow,andreadytoroll.All right…Okay…Once more through the plan: Use the manual valves to

equalize the airlock. Get out and hurry to theHab.Wander around under thecollapsedcanvas.FindMartinez’ssuit(orVogel’sifIrunintoitfirst).Gettotherover.ThenI’msafe.If I runoutof timebefore findinga suit, I’ll just run to the rover. I’llbe in

trouble,butI’llhavetimetothinkandmaterialstoworkwith.Deepbreath…herewego!

LOGENTRY:SOL120

I’malive!AndI’mintherover!Thingsdidn’tgoexactlyasplanned,butI’mnotdead,soit’sawin.Equalizing the airlock went fine. I was out on the surface within thirty

seconds. Skipping toward theHab (the fastestway tomove in this gravity), Ipassed through the field of debris. The rupture had really sent things flying,myselfincluded.It was hard to see; my faceplate was covered by the makeshift patch.

Fortunately,my armhad a camera.NASAdiscovered that turningyourwholeEVA-suitedbody to lookat somethingwasa strenuouswasteof time.So theymounted a small camera on the right arm. The feed is projected on the innerfaceplate.Thisallowsustolookatthingsjustbypointingatthem.Thefaceplatepatchwasn’texactlysmoothorreflective,soIhadtolookata

rippled,messed-upversionofthecamerafeed.Still, itwasenoughtoseewhatwasgoingon.Ibeelinedforwheretheairlockusedtobe.Iknewtherehadtobeaprettybig

holethere,soI’dbeabletogetin.Ifounditeasily.Andboyisitanastyrip!It’sgoingtobeapainintheasstofixit.That’swhentheflawsinmyplanstartedtorevealthemselves.Ionlyhadone

armtoworkwith.Myleftarmwaspinnedagainstmybody,while thestumpyarmofthesuitbouncedfreely.SoasImovedaroundunderthecanvas,Ihadtousemyonegoodarmtoholdthecanvasup.Itslowedmedown.FromwhatIcouldsee,theinterioroftheHabischaos.Everything’smoved.

Entiretablesandbunksaremetersawayfromwheretheystarted.Lighterobjectsarewildly jumbled,manyof themouton the surface.Everything’s covered insoilandmangledpotatoplants.Trudgingonward,IgottowhereI’dleftMartinez’ssuit.Tomyshock,itwas

stillthere!“Yay!”Inaivelythought.“Problemsolved.”Unfortunately,thesuitwaspinnedunderatable,whichwashelddownbythe

collapsedcanvas.IfI’dhadbotharms,Icouldhavepulleditfree,butwithonlyone,Ijustcouldn’tdoit.Running lowon time, Idetached thehelmet.Setting it aside, I reachedpast

thetabletogetMartinez’spatchkit.Ifounditwiththehelpofthearm-camera.Idroppeditinthehelmetandhauledassoutofthere.

Ibarelymadeittotheroverintime.Myearswerepoppingfrompressurelossjustastherover’sairlockfilledwithwonderful1-atmosphereair.Crawlingin,Icollapsedandpantedforamoment.So I’m back in the rover. Just like I was back on the Great Pathfinder

RecoveryExpedition.Ugh.Atleastthistimeitsmellsalittlebetter.NASA’s probably prettyworried aboutme by now. They probably saw the

airlockmoveback to theHab,so theyknowI’malive,but they’llwantstatus.Andasithappens,it’stheroverthatcommunicateswithPathfinder.I tried to send amessage, butPathfinder isn’t responding. That’s not a big

surprise.It’spowereddirectlyfromtheHab,andtheHabisoffline.Duringmybrief,panickedscrambleoutside,IsawthatPathfinderwasrightwhereIleftit,and the debris didn’t reach that far out. It should be fine, once I get it somepower.As for my current situation, the big gain is the helmet. They’re

interchangeable, so I can replace my broken-ass one with Martinez’s. Thestumpyarmisstillanissue,butthefaceplatewasthemainsourceofleaks.Andwiththefreshpatchkit,Icansealthearmwithmoreresin.Butthatcanwait.I’vebeenawakeforovertwenty-fourhours.I’mnotinany

immediatedanger,soI’mgoingtosleep.

LOGENTRY:SOL121

Gotagoodnight’ssleepandmaderealprogresstoday.FirstthingIdidwasresealthearm.Lasttime,Ihadtospreadtheresinpretty

thin;I’dusedmostofitforthefaceplatepatch.ButthistimeIhadawholepatchkitjustforthearm.Igotaperfectseal.Istillonlyhadaone-armedsuit,butatleastitdidn’tleak.I’dlostmostofmyairyesterday,butIhadahalfhourofoxygenleft.LikeI

saidearlier,ahumanbodydoesn’tneedmuchoxygen.Maintainingpressurewastheproblem.With thatmuch time, Iwasable to takeadvantageof the rover’sEVAtank-

refill.SomethingIcouldn’tdowiththeleakysuit.Thetank-refillisanemergencymeasure.Theexpecteduseoftheroveristo

startwithfullEVAsuitsandcomebackwithairtospare.Itwasn’tdesignedforlongtrips,orevenovernighters.But,justincaseofemergency,ithasrefillhosesmountedontheexterior.Insidespacewaslimitedalready,andNASAconcludedthatmostair-relatedemergencieswouldbeoutdoors.Butrefillingisslow,slowerthanmysuitwasleaking.Soitwasn’tanyuseto

meuntilIswappedhelmets.Now,withasolidsuitcapableofholdingpressure,refillingthetankswasabreeze.After refilling, and making sure the suit was still not leaking, I had a few

immediatetaskstotakecareof.MuchasItrustmyhandiwork,Iwantedatwo-armedsuit.IventuredbackintotheHab.Thistime,notbeingrushed,Iwasabletousea

poletoleveragethetableoffMartinez’ssuit.Pullingitloose,Idraggeditbacktotherover.After a thoroughdiagnostic tobe sure, I finallyhad a fully functionalEVA

suit!Ittookmetwotripstogetit,butIgotit.Tomorrow,I’llfixtheHab.

LOGENTRY:SOL122

The first thing Idid todaywas lineup rocksnear the rover to spell “A-okay.”ThatshouldmakeNASAhappy.Iwent into theHab again to assess damage.My prioritywill be to get the

structureintactandholdingpressure.Fromthere,Icanworkonfixingstuffthatbroke.TheHabisnormallyadome,withflexiblesupportpolesmaintainingthearch

andrigid,foldingfloormaterialtokeepitsbaseflat.Theinternalpressurewasavital part of its support.Without it, thewhole thing collapsed. I inspected thepoles,andnoneofthemhadbroken.They’rejustlyingflatisall.I’llhavetore-coupleafewofthem,butthat’llbeeasy.TheholewhereAirlock1usedtobeishuge,butsurmountable.Ihaveseal-

strips and spare canvas. It’ll be a lot ofwork, but I can get theHab togetheragain.Once I do, I’ll reestablish power and getPathfinder back online. Fromthere,NASAcantellmehowtofixanythingIcan’tfigureoutonmyown.I’mnotworriedaboutanyofthat.Ihaveamuchbiggerproblem.Thefarmisdead.With a complete loss of pressure, most of the water boiled off. Also, the

temperatureiswellbelowfreezing.Noteventhebacteriainthesoilcansurvivea catastrophe like that. Some of the cropswere in pop-tents off theHab. Butthey’redead,too.IhadthemconnecteddirectlytotheHabviahosestomaintainairsupplyandtemperature.WhentheHabblew,thepop-tentsdepressurizedaswell.Eveniftheyhadn’t,thefreezingcoldwouldhavekilledthecrops.PotatoesarenowextinctonMars.Soisthesoilbacteria.I’llnevergrowanotherplantsolongasI’mhere.Wehaditallplannedout.MyfarmwouldgivemefoodtillSol900.Asupply

probewouldgethereonSol856;waybeforeIranout.Withthefarmdead,thatplanishistory.Therationpackswon’thavebeenaffectedbytheexplosion.Andthepotatoes

I’ve already grown may be dead, but they’re still food. I was just about toharvest,soitwasagoodtimeforthistohappen,Iguess.TherationswilllastmetillSol400.Ican’tsayforsurehowlongthepotatoes

will last, until I see how many I got. But I can estimate. I had 400 plants,probablyaveraging5potatoeseach:2000taters.At150calorieseach,I’llneedtoeat10persoltosurvive.Thatmeansthey’ll lastme200sols.Grandtotal:I

haveenoughfoodtolasttillSol600.BySol856I’llbelongdead.

CHAPTER15

[08:12]WATNEY:Test.[08:25]JPL:Received!Yougaveusquiteascarethere.Thanksforthe“A-okay”message.Ouranalysisofsatellite

imageryshowsacompletedetachmentofAirlock1.Isthatcorrect?What’syourstatus?[08:39]WATNEY:Ifby“detachment”youmean“shotmeoutlikeacannon”thenyeah.Minorcutonmyforehead.Had

someissueswithmyEVAsuit(I’llexplainlater).IpatcheduptheHabandrepressurizedit(mainairtankswereintact).Ijustgotpowerbackonline.Thefarmisdead.I’verecoveredasmanypotatoesasIcouldandstoredthemoutside.Icount1841.Thatwilllastme184days.Includingtheremainingmissionrations,I’llstartstarvingonSol584.

[08:52]JPL:Yeah,wefigured.We’reworkingonsolutionstothefoodissue.What’sthestatusoftheHabsystems?[09:05]WATNEY:Primaryairandwatertankswereunharmed.Therover,solararray,andPathfinderwereoutoftheblast

range.I’llrundiagnosticsontheHab’ssystemswhileIwaitforyournextreply.Bytheway,whoamItalkingto?[09:18]JPL:VenkatKapoorinHouston.Pasadenarelaysmymessages.I’mgoingtohandlealldirectcommunicationwith

youfromnowon.Checktheoxygenatorandwaterreclaimerfirst.They’rethemostimportant.[09:31]WATNEY:Duh.Oxygenatorfunctioningperfectly.Waterreclaimeriscompletelyoffline.Bestguessiswaterfroze

upinsideandburstsometubing.I’msureIcanfixit.TheHab’smaincomputerisalsofunctioningwithoutanyproblems.AnyideawhatcausedtheHabtoblowup?

[09:44]JPL:BestguessisfatigueonthecanvasnearAirlock1.Thepressurizationcyclestressedituntilitfailed.Fromnowon,alternateAirlock2and3forallEVAs.Also,we’llbegettingyouachecklistandproceduresforafullcanvasexam.

[09:57]WATNEY:Yay,Igettostareatawallforseveralhours!Letmeknowifyoucomeupwithawayformetonotstarve.

[10:11]JPL:Willdo.

•••

“IT’SSOL122,”Brucesaid.“WehaveuntilSol584togetaprobetoMars.That’sfourhundredandsixty-twosols,whichisfourhundredandseventy-fivedays.”The assembled department heads of JPL furrowed their brows and rubbed

theireyes.Hestood fromhischair. “ThepositionsofEarthandMarsaren’t ideal.The

tripwilltakefourhundredandfourteendays.Mountingtheprobetotheboosterand dealing with inspections will take thirteen days. That leaves us with justforty-eightdaystomakethisprobe.”Soundsofwhisperedexasperationfilledtheroom.“Jesus,”someonesaid.“It’sawholenewballgame,”Brucecontinued.“Ourfocusisfood.Anything

elseisaluxury.Wedon’thavetimetomakeapowered-descentlander.It’llhavetobeatumbler.Sowecan’tputanythingdelicateinside.Saygood-byetoalltheothercrapwe’dplannedtosend.”“Where’stheboostercomingfrom?”askedNormToshi,whowasinchargeof

thereentryprocess.“TheEagleEye3Saturnprobe,”Brucesaid.“Itwasscheduledtolaunchnext

month.NASAputitonholdsowecanhavethebooster.”“IbettheEagleEyeteamwaspissedaboutthat,”Normsaid.

“I’msuretheywere,”Brucesaid.“Butit’stheonlyboosterwehavethat’sbigenough.Whichbringsmetomynextpoint:Weonlygetoneshotatthis.Ifwefail,MarkWatneydies.”Helookedaroundtheroomandletthatsinkin.“Wedohavesomethingsgoingforus,”hefinallysaid.“Wehavesomeofthe

partsbuiltfortheAres4presupplymissions.Wecanstealfromthem,andthat’llsave us some time.Also,we’re sending food,which is pretty robust. Even ifthere’s a reentry problem and the probe impacts at high velocity, food is stillfood.“And we don’t need a precision landing. Watney can travel hundreds of

kilometers ifnecessary.We justneed to landcloseenoughforhim to reach it.Thisendsupbeingastandardtumble-landpresupply.Allwehavetodoismakeitquickly.Solet’sgettoit.”

•••

[08:02]JPL:We’vespunupaprojecttogetyoufood.It’sbeeninprogressforaweekorso.Wecangetittoyoubeforeyoustarve,butit’llbetight.It’lljustbefoodandaradio.Wecan’tsendanoxygenator,waterreclaimer,oranyofthatotherstuffwithoutpowereddescent.

[08:16]WATNEY:Nocomplaintshere!Yougetmethefood,I’llbeahappycamper.I’vegotallHabsystemsupandrunningagain.ThewaterreclaimerisworkingfinenowthatIreplacedthebursthoses.Asforwatersupply,Ihave620litersremaining.Istartedwith900liters(300tostartwith,600morefromreducinghydrazine).SoIlostalmost300literstosublimation.Still,withthewaterreclaimeroperationalagain,it’splenty.

[08:31]JPL:Good,keepuspostedonanymechanicalorelectronicproblems.Bytheway,thenameoftheprobewe’resendingisIris.NamedaftertheGreekgoddesswhotraveledtheheavenswiththespeedofwind.She’salsothegoddessofrainbows.

[08:47]WATNEY:Gayprobecomingtosaveme.Gotit.

•••

RICHPURNELLsippedcoffeeinthesilentbuilding.Heranafinaltestonthesoftwarehe’dwritten.Itpassed.Witharelievedsigh,hesankbackinhischair.Checkingtheclockonhiscomputer,heshookhishead.3:42a.m.Asanastrodynamicist,Richrarelyhad towork late.His jobwas tofind the

exactorbitsandcoursecorrectionsneededforanygivenmission.Usually,itwasoneofthefirstpartsofaproject,alltheotherstepsbeingbasedontheorbit.But this time, thingswere reversed. Irisneededanorbitalpath, andnobody

knewwhenitwouldlaunch.Planetsmoveastimegoesby.Acoursecalculatedforaspecificlaunchdate

will work only for that date. Even a single day’s difference would result inmissingMarsentirely.SoRichhad to calculatemany courses.Hehada rangeof twenty-fivedays

duringwhichIrismightlaunch.Hecalculatedonecourseforeach.Hebeganane-mailtohisboss.Mike, he typed,Attached are the courses for Iris, in 1-day increments. We

shouldstartpeerreviewandvettingsotheycanbeofficiallyaccepted.Andyouwereright,Iwasherealmostallnight.Itwasn’tthatbad.NowherenearthepainofcalculatingorbitsforHermes.I

know you get bored when I go into the math, so I’ll summarize: The small,constantthrustofHermes’siondrivesismuchhardertodealwiththanthelargepoint-thrustsofpresupplyprobes.All25ofthecoursestake414days,andvaryonlyslightlyinthrustduration

and angle. The fuel requirement is nearly identical for the orbits and is wellwithinthecapacityofEagleEye’sbooster.It’s too bad. Earth andMars are really badly positioned. Heck, it’s almost

easierto—Hestoppedtyping.Furrowinghisbrow,hestaredintothedistance.“Hmm,”hesaid.Hegrabbedhiscoffeecupandwenttothebreakroomforarefill.

•••

TEDDYSCANNEDthecrowdedconferenceroom.ItwasraretoseesuchanassemblyofNASA’smostimportantpeopleallinoneplace.Hesquaredasmallstackofnoteshe’dpreparedandplacedthemneatlyinfrontofhim.“I knowyou’re all busy,”Teddy said. “Thank you formaking time for this

meeting. I need status on Project Iris from all departments. Venkat, let’s startwithyou.”“The mission team’s ready,” Venkat said, looking at spreadsheets on his

laptop.“Therewasaminor turfwarbetween theAres3andAres4presupplycontrolteams.TheAres3guyssaidtheyshouldrunit,becausewhileWatney’sonMars,Ares3isstillinprogress.TheAres4teampointsoutit’stheircooptedprobeinthefirstplace.IendedupgoingwithAres3.”

“DidthatupsetAres4?”Teddyasked.“Yes, but they’ll get over it. They have thirteen other presupply missions

comingup.Theywon’thavetimetobepissy.”“Mitch,”Teddysaidtotheflightcontroller,“whataboutthelaunch?”Mitchpulledtheearpiecefromhisear.“We’vegotacontrolroomready,”he

said. “I’ll oversee the launch, then hand cruise and landing over to Venkat’sguys.”“Media?”Teddysaid,turningtoAnnie.“I’mgiving daily updates to the press,” she said, leaning back in her chair.

“EveryoneknowsWatney’sfuckedifthisdoesn’twork.Thepublichasn’tbeenthisengagedinshipconstructionsinceApollo11.CNN’sTheWatneyReporthasbeenthenumberoneshowinitstimeslotforthepasttwoweeks.”“Theattentionisgood,”Teddysaid.“It’llhelpgetusemergencyfundingfrom

Congress.”Helookeduptoamanstandingneartheentrance.“Maurice,thanksforflyingoutonshortnotice.”Mauricenodded.Teddygestured tohimandaddressed the room.“For thosewhodon’tknow

him, this is Maurice Stein from Cape Canaveral. He was the scheduled padleader for EagleEye 3, so he inherited the role for Iris. Sorry for the bait andswitch,Maurice.”“Noproblem,”saidMaurice.“GladIcanhelpout.”Teddyflippedthetoppageofhisnotesfacedownbesidethestack.“How’sthe

booster?”“It’sallrightfornow,”saidMaurice.“Butit’snotideal.EagleEye3wassetto

launch.Boostersaren’tdesignedtostanduprightandbear thestressofgravityfor long periods. We’re adding external supports that we’ll remove beforelaunch. It’s easier than disassembly. Also the fuel is corrosive to the internaltanks,sowehadtodrain it. In themeantime,we’reperforminginspectionsonallsystemseverythreedays.”“Good, thank you,” Teddy said. He turned his attention to Bruce Ng, who

staredbackathimwithheavybloodshoteyes.“Bruce, thankyoufor flyingout, too.How’s theweather inCalifornia these

days?”“Iwouldn’tknow,”Brucesaid.“Irarelyseetheoutdoors.”Subduedlaughterfilledtheroomforafewseconds.Teddy flipped another page. “Time for the big question, Bruce. How’s Iris

comingalong?”“We’rebehind,”Bruce saidwitha tired shakeofhishead. “We’regoingas

fastaswecan,butit’sjustnotfastenough.”“Icanfindmoneyforovertime,”Teddyoffered.“We’realreadyworkingaroundtheclock.”“Howfarbehindarewetalkingabout?”Teddyasked.Brucerubbedhiseyesandsighed.“We’vebeenatittwenty-ninedays;sowe

onlyhavenineteenleft.Afterthat,thePadneedsthirteendaystomountitonthebooster.We’reatleasttwoweeksbehind.”“Isthatasfarbehindasyou’regoingtoget?”Teddyasked,writinganoteon

hispapers.“Orwillyouslipmore?”Bruceshrugged.“Ifwedon’thaveanymoreproblems,it’llbetwoweekslate.

Butwealwayshaveproblems.”“Givemeanumber,”Teddysaid.“Fifteendays,”Bruceresponded.“Ifwehadanotherfifteendays,I’msurewe

couldgetitdoneintime.”“Allright,”Teddysaid,takinganothernote.“Let’screatefifteendays.”Turninghisattention to theAres3 flightsurgeon,Teddyasked,“Dr.Keller,

canwereduceWatney’sfoodintaketomaketherationslastlonger?”“Sorry,butno,”Kellersaid.“He’salreadyataminimalcaloriecount.Infact,

considering the amount of physical labor he does, he’s eating far less than heshould.And it’sonlygoing togetworse.Soonhis entiredietwillbepotatoesandvitaminsupplements.He’sbeensavingprotein-richrationsforlateruse,buthe’llstillbemalnourished.”“Onceherunsoutoffood,howlonguntilhestarvestodeath?”Teddyasked.“Presuminganamplewatersupply,hemightlastthreeweeks.Shorterthana

typical hunger strike, but remember he’ll be malnourished and thin to beginwith.”Venkatraisedahandandcaughttheirattention.“Remember,Irisisatumbler;

hemighthavetodriveafewdaystogetit.AndI’mguessingit’shardtocontrolaroverwhenyou’reliterallystarvingtodeath.”“He’sright,”Dr.Kellerconfirmed.“Withinfourdaysofrunningoutoffood,

he’ll barely be able to stand up, let alone control a rover. Plus, his mentalfacultieswillrapidlydecline.He’dhaveahardtimeevenstayingawake.”“So the landing date’s firm,”Teddy said. “Maurice, can you get Iris on the

boosterinlessthanthirteendays?”

Maurice leaned against thewall and pinched his chin. “Well…it only takesthree days to actually mount it. The following ten are for testing andinspections.”“Howmuchcanyoureducethose?”“With enough overtime, I could get the mounting down to two days. That

includes transport fromPasadena toCapeCanaveral.But the inspectionscan’tbeshortened.They’retime-based.Wedochecksandrecheckswithsetintervalsbetweenthemtoseeifsomethingdeformsorwarps.Ifyoushortentheintervals,youinvalidatetheinspections.”“Howoftendothoseinspectionsrevealaproblem?”Teddyasked.Asilencefellovertheroom.“Uh,”Mauricestammered.“Areyousuggestingwedon’tdotheinspections?”“No,”saidTeddy.“RightnowI’maskinghowoftentheyrevealaproblem.”“Aboutoneintwentylaunches.”Teddywrote thatdown.“Andhowoftenis theproblemtheyfindsomething

thatwouldhavecausedamissionfailure?”“I’m,uh,notsure.Maybehalfthetime?”Hewrotethatdownaswell.“Soifweskipinspectionsandtesting,wehavea

oneinfortychanceofmissionfailure?”Teddyasked.“That’s two point five percent,” Venkat said, stepping in. “Normally, that’s

groundsforacountdownhalt.Wecan’ttakeachancelikethat.”“‘Normally’ was a long time ago,” Teddy said. “Ninety-seven point five

percentisbetterthanzero.Cananyonethinkofasaferwaytogetmoretime?”Hescannedtheroom.Blankfacesstaredback.“All right, then,”hesaid,circlingsomethingonhisnotes.“Speedingup the

mounting process and skipping inspections buys us eleven days. If Bruce canpullarabbitoutofahatandgetdonesooner,Mauricecandosomeinspections.”“Whatabouttheotherfourdays?”Venkatasked.“I’m sureWatney can stretch the food to last four extra days, malnutrition

notwithstanding,”Teddysaid,lookingtoDr.Keller.“I—”Kellerstarted.“Ican’trecommend—”“Hang on,” Teddy interrupted. He stood and straightened his blazer.

“Everyone, I understand your positions. We have procedures. Skipping thoseproceduresmeans risk.Riskmeans trouble foryourdepartment.Butnowisn’tthetimetocoverourasses.WehavetotakerisksorMarkWatneydies.”

TurningtoKeller,hesaid,“Makethefoodlastanotherfourdays.”Kellernodded.

•••

“RICH,”saidMike.RichPurnellconcentratedonhiscomputerscreen.Hiscubiclewasalandfill

of printouts, charts, and reference books. Empty coffee cups rested on everysurface;take-outpackaginglitteredtheground.“Rich,”Mikesaid,moreforcefully.Richlookedup.“Yeah?”“Whatthehellareyoudoing?”“Justalittlesideproject.SomethingIwantedtocheckupon.”“Well…that’s fine, I guess,”Mike said, “but you need to do your assigned

work first. I asked for those satellite adjustments twoweeks ago andyou stillhaven’tdonethem.”“Ineedsomesupercomputertime,”Richsaid.“Youneedsupercomputertimetocalculateroutinesatelliteadjustments?”“No,it’sforthisotherthingI’mworkingon,”Richsaid.“Rich,seriously.Youhavetodoyourjob.”Richthoughtforamoment.“Wouldnowbeagoodtimeforavacation?”he

asked.Mikesighed.“Youknowwhat,Rich?Ithinknowwouldbeanidealtimefor

youtotakeavacation.”“Great!”Richsmiled.“I’llstartrightnow.”“Sure,”Mikesaid.“Goonhome.Getsomerest.”“Oh,I’mnotgoinghome,”saidRich,returningtohiscalculations.Mikerubbedhiseyes.“Okay,whatever.Aboutthosesatelliteorbits…?”“I’monvacation,”Richsaidwithoutlookingup.Mikeshruggedandwalkedaway.

•••

[08:01]WATNEY:How’smycarepackagecomingalong?[08:16]JPL:Alittlebehindschedule,butwe’llgetitdone.Inthemeantime,wewantyoutogetbacktowork.We’re

satisfiedtheHabisingoodcondition.Maintenanceonlytakesyoutwelvehoursperweek.We’regoingtopacktherestofyourtimewithresearchandexperiments.

[08:31]WATNEY:Great!I’msickofsittingonmyass.I’mgoingtobehereforyears.Youmayaswellmakeuseofme.[08:47]JPL:That’swhatwe’rethinking.We’llgetyouascheduleassoonasthescienceteamputsittogether.It’llbe

mostlyEVAs,geologicalsampling,soiltests,andweeklyself-administeredmedicaltests.Honestly,thisisthebest“bonusMarstime”we’vehadsincetheOpportunitylander.

[09:02]WATNEY:OpportunityneverwentbacktoEarth.[09:17]JPL:Sorry.Badanalogy.

•••

THE JPLSpacecraftAssemblyFacility,knownasthe“cleanroom,”wasthelittle-known birthplace of the most famous spacecraft in Mars exploration history.Mariner,Viking,Spirit,Opportunity,andCuriosity, just tonamea few,hadallbeenborninthisoneroom.Today, the roomwas abuzzwith activity as technicians sealed Iris into the

speciallydesignedshippingcontainer.The off-duty techswatched the procedure from the observation deck. They

hadrarelyseentheirhomesinthelasttwomonths;amakeshiftbunkroomhadbeensetup in thecafeteria.Fullya thirdof themwouldnormallybeasleepatthishour,buttheydidnotwanttomissthismoment.The shift leader tightened the final bolt. As he retracted the wrench, the

engineersbrokeintoapplause.Manyofthemwereintears.Aftersixty-threedaysofgruelingwork,Iriswascomplete.

•••

ANNIETOOKthepodiumandadjustedthemicrophone.“Thelaunchpreparationsarecomplete,”shesaid.“Irisisreadytogo.Thescheduledlaunchis9:14a.m.“Oncelaunched,itwillstayinorbitforatleastthreehours.Duringthattime,

Mission Control will gather exact telemetry in preparation for the trans-Marsinjectionburn.Whenthat’scomplete,themissionwillbehandedofftotheAres3presupply team,whowillmonitor itsprogressover the followingmonths. ItwilltakefourhundredandfourteendaystoreachMars.”“Aboutthepayload,”areporterasked,“Ihearthere’smorethanjustfood?”“That’s true.” Annie smiled. “We allocated one hundred grams for luxury

items.Thereare somehandwritten letters fromMark’s family,anote from the

President,andaUSBdrivefilledwithmusicfromallages.”“Anydisco?”someoneasked.“Nodisco,”Anniesaid,aschucklescascadedthroughtheroom.CNN’sCathyWarnerspokeup.“Ifthislaunchfails,isthereanyrecoursefor

Watney?”“There are risks to any launch,”Annie said, sidestepping the question, “but

we don’t anticipate problems. The weather at the Cape is clear with warmtemperatures.Conditionscouldn’tbebetter.”“Isthereanyspendinglimittothisrescueoperation?”anotherreporterasked.

“Somepeoplearebeginningtoaskhowmuchistoomuch.”“It’snot about thebottom line,”Annie said, prepared for thequestion. “It’s

aboutahumanlifeinimmediatedanger.Butifyouwanttolookatitfinancially,consider thevalueofMarkWatney’sextendedmission.HisprolongedmissionandfightforsurvivalaregivingusmoreknowledgeaboutMarsthantherestoftheAresprogramcombined.”

•••

“DOYOUbelieveinGod,Venkat?”Mitchasked.“Sure,lotsof’em,”Venkatsaid.“I’mHindu.”“Ask’emallforhelpwiththislaunch.”“Willdo.”Mitch stepped forward to his station inMissionControl. The room bustled

with activity as the dozens of controllers each made final preparations forlaunch.He put his headset on and glanced at the time readout on the giant center

screenatthefrontoftheroom.Heturnedonhisheadsetandsaid,“Thisistheflightdirector.Beginlaunchstatuscheck.”“Roger that, Houston” was the reply from the launch control director in

Florida. “CLCDR checking all stations are manned and systems ready,” hebroadcast.“Givemeago/no-goforlaunch.Talker?”“Go”wastheresponse.“Timer.”“Go,”saidanothervoice.“QAM1.”

“Go.”Restinghischinonhishands,Mitchstaredatthecenterscreen.Itshowedthe

padvideofeed.Thebooster,amidcloudywatervaporfromthecoolingprocess,stillhadEagleEye3stenciledontheside.“QAM2.”“Go.”“QAM3.”“Go.”Venkat leaned against the backwall.Hewas an administrator.His jobwas

done. He could only watch and hope. His gaze was fixated on the far wall’sdisplays. In hismind, he saw the numbers, the shift juggling, the outright liesandborderlinecrimeshe’dcommittedtoputthismissiontogether.Itwouldallbeworthwhile,ifitworked.“FSC.”“Go.”“PropOne.”“Go.”TeddysatintheVIPobservationroombehindMissionControl.Hisauthority

affordedhimtheverybestseat:front-rowcenter.Hisbriefcaselayathisfeetandheheldabluefolderinhishands.“PropTwo.”“Go.”“PTO.”“Go.”Annie Montrose paced in her private office next to the press room. Nine

televisionsmounted to the wall were each tuned to a different network; eachnetwork showed the launch pad. A glance at her computer showed foreignnetworksdoingthesame.Theworldwasholdingitsbreath.“ACC.”“Go.”“LWO.”“Go.”BruceNgsatintheJPLcafeteriaalongwithhundredsofengineerswhohad

given everything they had to Iris. Theywatched the live feed on a projectionscreen.Somefidgeted,unabletofindcomfortablepositions.Othersheldhands.

Itwas6:13a.m.inPasadena,yeteverysingleemployeewaspresent.“AFLC.”“Go.”“Guidance.”“Go.”Millions of kilometers away, the crew ofHermes listened as they crowded

around Johanssen’s station. The two-minute transmission time didn’t matter.Theyhadnowaytohelp;therewasnoneedtointeract.Johanssenstaredintentlyatherscreen,althoughitdisplayedonlytheaudiosignalstrength.Beckwrunghishands.Vogelstoodmotionless,hiseyesfixedonthefloor.Martinezprayedsilentlyatfirst,thensawnoreasontohideit.CommanderLewisstoodapart,herarmsfoldedacrossherchest.“PTC.”“Go.”“LaunchVehicleDirector.”“Go.”“Houston,thisisLaunchControl,wearegoforlaunch.”“Roger,”Mitchsaid,checkingthecountdown.“This isFlight,wearegofor

launchonschedule.”“Rogerthat,Houston,”LaunchControlsaid.“Launchonschedule.”Oncetheclockreached−00:00:15,thetelevisionnetworksgotwhattheywere

waiting for. The timer controller began the verbal countdown. “Fifteen,” shesaid,“fourteen…thirteen…twelve…eleven…”ThousandshadgatheredatCapeCanaveral,thelargestcrowdevertowatchan

unmanned launch. They listened to the timer controller’s voice as it echoedacrossthegrandstands.“…ten…nine…eight…seven…”RichPurnell,entrenchedinhisorbitalcalculations,hadlosttrackoftime.He

didn’tnoticewhenhis coworkersmigrated to the largemeeting roomwhereaTVhadbeensetup.Inthebackofhismind,hethoughttheofficewasunusuallyquiet,buthegaveitnofurtherthought.“…six…five…four…”“Ignitionsequencestart.”“…three…two…one…”Clampsreleased,theboosterroseamidaplumeofsmokeandfire,slowlyat

first,thenracingeverfaster.Theassembledcrowdcheereditonitsway.“…andliftoffoftheIrissupplyprobe,”thetimercontrollersaid.Astheboostersoared,Mitchhadnotimetowatchthespectacleonthemain

screen.“Trim?”hecalledout.“Trim’sgood,Flight”wastheimmediateresponse.“Course?”heasked.“Oncourse.”“Altitudeonethousandmeters,”someonesaid.“We’vereachedsafe-abort,”anotherpersoncalledout,indicatingthattheship

couldcrashharmlesslyintotheAtlanticOceanifnecessary.“Altitudefifteenhundredmeters.”“Pitchandrollmaneuvercommencing.”“Gettingalittleshimmy,Flight.”Mitchlookedovertotheascentflightdirector.“Sayagain?”“Aslightshimmy.Onboardguidanceishandlingit.”“Keepaneyeonit,”Mitchsaid.“Altitudetwenty-fivehundredmeters.”“Pitchandrollcomplete,twenty-twosecondstillstaging.”

•••

WHEN DESIGNING Iris, JPL accounted for catastrophic landing failure. Rather thannormalmealkits,mostofthefoodwascubedproteinbarmaterial,whichwouldstillbeedibleeven if Iris failed todeploy its tumbleballoonsand impactedatincrediblespeed.BecauseIriswasanunmannedmission,therewasnocaponacceleration.The

contentsoftheprobeenduredforcesnohumancouldsurvive.ButwhileNASAhadtestedtheeffectsofextremeg-forcesonproteincubes,theyhadnotdonesowith a simultaneous lateral vibration. Had they been given more time, theywouldhave.Theharmlessshimmy,causedbyaminorfuelmixtureimbalance,rattledthe

payload. Iris,mounted firmlywithin the aeroshell atop the booster, held firm.TheproteincubesinsideIrisdidnot.At the microscopic level, the protein cubes were solid food particles

suspendedinthickvegetableoil.Thefoodparticlescompressedtolessthanhalftheiroriginalsize,buttheoilwasbarelyaffectedatall.Thischangedthevolumeratioof solid to liquiddramatically,which in turnmade theaggregateactasaliquid.Knownas“liquefaction,”thisprocesstransformedtheproteincubesfromasteadysolidintoaflowingsludge.Stored in a compartment that originally had no leftover space, the now-

compressedsludgehadroomtoslosh.The shimmyalso caused an imbalanced load, forcing the sludge toward the

edge of its compartment. This shift in weight only aggravated the largerproblem,andtheshimmygrewstronger.

•••

“SHIMMY’SGETTINGviolent,”reportedtheascentflightdirector.“Howviolent?”Mitchsaid.“Morethanwelike,”hesaid.“Buttheaccelerometerscaughtitandcalculated

thenewcenterofmass.Theguidancecomputerisadjustingtheengines’thruststocounteract.We’restillgood.”“Keepmeposted,”Mitchsaid.“Thirteensecondstillstaging.”The unexpected weight shift had not spelled disaster. All systems were

designedforworst-casescenarios;eachdiditsjobadmirably.Theshipcontinuedtowardorbitwithonlyaminorcourseadjustment,implementedautomaticallybysophisticatedsoftware.The first stage depleted its fuel, and the booster coasted for a fraction of a

second as it jettisoned stage clampsvia explosive bolts.Thenow-empty stagefellawayfromthecraftasthesecond-stageenginespreparedtoignite.The brutal forces had disappeared. The protein sludge floated free in the

container.Given twoseconds, itwouldhavere-expandedandsolidified.But itwasgivenonlyaquartersecond.As the second stage fired, the craft experienced a sudden jolt of immense

force. No longer contending with the deadweight of the first stage, theaccelerationwasprofound.Thethreehundredkilogramsofsludgeslammedintothebackof itscontainer.Thepointof impactwasat theedgeof Iris,nowherenearwherethemasswasexpectedtobe.

Though Iris was held in place by five large bolts, the force was directedentirelytoasingleone.Theboltwasdesignedtowithstandimmenseforces;ifnecessary tocarry theentireweightof thepayload.But itwasnotdesigned tosustainasuddenimpactfromaloosethree-hundred-kilogrammass.Theboltsheared.Theburdenwasthenshiftedtotheremainingfourbolts.The

forceful impacthavingpassed, theirworkwasconsiderablyeasier than thatoftheirfallencomrade.Hadthepadcrewbeengiventimetodonormalinspections,theywouldhave

noticedtheminordefectinoneofthebolts.Adefectthatslightlyweakenedit,though itwould not cause failure on a normalmission.Still, theywouldhaveswappeditoutwithaperfectreplacement.Theoff-center loadpresentedunequal force to the four remainingbolts, the

defectiveonebearingthebruntofit.Soon,itfailedaswell.Fromthere,theotherthreefailedinrapidsuccession.Irisslippedfromitssupportsintheaeroshell,slammingintothehull.

•••

“WOAH!” EXCLAIMED the ascent flight director. “Flight, we’re getting a largeprecession!”“What?”Mitchsaidasalertsbeepedandlightsflashedacrossalltheconsoles.“ForceonIrisisatseveng’s,”someonesaid.“Intermittentsignalloss,”calledanothervoice.“Ascent,what’shappeninghere?”Mitchdemanded.“Allhellbroke loose. It’sspinningon the longaxiswithaseventeen-degree

precession.”“Howbad?”“Atleastfiverp’s,andfallingoffcourse.”“Canyougetittoorbit?”“Ican’ttalktoitatall;signalfailuresleftandright.”“Comm!”Mitchshottothecommunicationsdirector.“Workin’ on it, Flight,” was the response. “There’s a problem with the

onboardsystem.”“Gettingsomemajorg’sinside,Flight.”

“Groundtelemetryshowsittwohundredmeterslowoftargetpath.”“We’velostreadingsontheprobe,Flight.”“Entirelylosttheprobe?”heasked.“Affirm,Flight.Intermittentsignalfromtheship,butnoprobe.”“Shit,”Mitchsaid.“Itshooklooseintheaeroshell.”“It’sdreideling,Flight.”“Canitlimptoorbit?”Mitchsaid.“Evensuper-lowEO?Wemightbeableto

—”“Lossofsignal,Flight.”“LOShere,too.”“Samehere.”Otherthanthealarms,theroomfellsilent.Afteramoment,Mitchsaid,“Reestablish?”“Noluck,”saidComm.“Ground?”Mitchasked.“GC”wasthereply.“Vehiclehadalreadyleftvisualrange.”“SatCon?”Mitchasked.“Nosatelliteacquisitionofsignal.”Mitchlookedforwardtothemainscreen.Itwasblacknow,withlargewhite

lettersreading“LOS.”“Flight,” a voice said over the radio, “US destroyerStockton reports debris

fallingfromthesky.SourcematcheslastknownlocationofIris.”Mitchputhisheadinhishands.“Roger,”hesaid.Then he uttered the words every flight director hopes never to say: “GC,

Flight.Lockthedoors.”Itwasthesignaltostartpost-failureprocedures.From the VIP observation room, Teddy watched the despondent Mission

ControlCenter.Hetookadeepbreath,thenletitout.Helookedforlornlyattheblue folder that contained his cheerful speech praising a perfect launch. Heplaceditinhisbriefcaseandextractedtheredfolder,withtheotherspeechinit.

•••

VENKATSTAREDouthisofficewindowsto thespacecenterbeyond.Aspacecenterthathousedmankind’smostadvancedknowledgeofrocketryyethadstillfailedtoexecutetoday’slaunch.Hismobilerang.Hiswifeagain.Nodoubtworriedabouthim.Heletitgoto

voicemail.Hejustcouldn’tfaceher.Oranyone.Achimecamefromhiscomputer.Glancingover,hesawane-mailfromJPL.

ArelayedmessagefromPathfinder:

[16:03]WATNEY:How’dthelaunchgo?

CHAPTER16

Martinez:Dr.ShieldssaysIneedtowritepersonalmessagestoeachofthecrew.Shesaysit’llkeepmetetheredtohumanity.Ithink

it’sbullshit.Buthey,it’sanorder.Withyou,Icanbeblunt:IfIdie,Ineedyoutocheckonmyparents.They’llwanttohearaboutourtimeonMarsfirsthand.I’llneedyoutodothat.Itwon’tbeeasytalkingtoacoupleabouttheirdeadson.It’salottoask;that’swhyI’maskingyou.I’dtellyouyou’remy

bestfriendandstuff,butitwouldbelame.I’mnotgivingup.Justplanningforeveryoutcome.It’swhatIdo.

•••

GUO MING, director of the China National Space Administration, examined thedauntingpileofpaperworkathisdesk.Intheolddays,whenChinawantedtolauncharocket,theyjustlaunchedit.Nowtheywerecompelledbyinternationalagreementstowarnothernationsfirst.Itwas a requirement,GuoMing noted to himself, that did not apply to the

United States. To be fair, the Americans publicly announced their launchscheduleswellinadvance,soitamountedtothesamething.Hewalkedafinelinefillingouttheform:makingthelaunchdateandflight

pathclear,whiledoingeverythingpossibleto“concealstatesecrets.”He snorted at the last requirement. “Ridiculous,” hemumbled.TheTaiyang

Shenhadnostrategicormilitaryvalue.Itwasanunmannedprobethatwouldbein Earth orbit less than two days. After that, it would travel to a solar orbitbetweenMercuryandVenus. ItwouldbeChina’sfirstheliologyprobe toorbitthesun.Yet the State Council insisted all launches be shrouded in secrecy. Even

launcheswithnothingtohide.Thisway,othernationscouldnotinferfromlackofopennesswhichlaunchescontainedclassifiedpayloads.Aknockatthedoorinterruptedhispaperwork.“Come,”GuoMingsaid,happyfortheinterruption.“Goodevening,sir,”saidUnderDirectorZhuTao.“Tao,welcomeback.”“Thankyou,sir.It’sgoodtobebackinBeijing.”“HowwerethingsatJiuquan?”askedGuoMing.“Not toocold,Ihope?I’ll

neverunderstandwhyourlaunchcomplexisinthemiddleoftheGobiDesert.”“Itwascold,yetmanageable,”ZhuTaosaid.

“Andhowarelaunchpreparationscomingalong?”“Iamhappytoreporttheyareallonschedule.”“Excellent.”GuoMingsmiled.ZhuTaosatquietly,staringathisboss.GuoMinglookedexpectantlybackathim,butZhuTaoneitherstoodtoleave

norsaidanythingfurther.“Somethingelse,Tao?”GuoMingasked.“Mmm,”ZhuTaosaid.“Ofcourse,you’veheardabouttheIrisprobe?”“Yes, I did,” Guo frowned. “Terrible situation. That poor man’s going to

starve.”“Possibly,”ZhuTaosaid.“Possiblynot.”GuoMingleanedbackinhischair.“Whatareyousaying?”“It’stheTaiyangShen’sbooster,sir.Ourengineershaverunthenumbers,and

ithasenoughfuelforaMarsinjectionorbit.Itcouldgetthereinfourhundredandnineteendays.”“Areyoukidding?”“Haveyoueverknownmeto‘kid,’sir?”GuoMingstoodandpinchedhischin.Pacing,hesaid,“Wecan really send

theTaiyangShentoMars?”“No,sir,”saidZhuTao.“It’sfartooheavy.Themassiveheatshieldingmakes

ittheheaviestunmannedprobewe’veeverbuilt.That’swhytheboosterhadtobesopowerful.ButalighterpayloadcouldbesentallthewaytoMars.”“Howmuchmasscouldwesend?”GuoMingasked.“Ninehundredandforty-onekilograms,sir.”“Hmm,”GuoMingsaid,“IbetNASAcouldworkwiththatlimitation.Why

haven’ttheyapproachedus?”“Because they don’t know,” Zhu Tao said. “All our booster technology is

classified information. The Ministry of State Security even spreadsdisinformationaboutourcapabilities.Thisisforobviousreasons.”“Sotheydon’tknowwecanhelpthem,”GuoMingsaid.“Ifwedecidenotto

help,noonewillknowwecouldhave.”“Correct,sir.”“Forthesakeofargument,let’ssaywedecidedtohelp.Whatthen?”“Timewouldbetheenemy,sir,”ZhuTaoanswered.“Basedontravelduration

andthesuppliestheirastronauthasremaining,anysuchprobewouldhavetobe

launchedwithinamonth.Eventhenhewouldstarvealittle.”“That’srightaroundwhenweplannedtolaunchTaiyangShen.”“Yes, sir.But it took them twomonths tobuild Iris, and itwas so rushed it

failed.”“That’s their problem,” Guo Ming said. “Our end would be providing the

booster.We’dlaunchfromJiuquan;wecan’tshipaneight-hundred-tonrockettoFlorida.”“Any agreement would hinge on the Americans reimbursing us for the

booster,”ZhuTaosaid,“andtheStateCouncilwouldlikelywantpoliticalfavorsfromtheUSgovernment.”“Reimbursementwouldbepointless,”GuoMingsaid.“Thiswasanexpensive

project, and the StateCouncil grumbled about it all along. If they had a bulkpayoutforitsvalue,they’djustkeepit.We’dnevergettobuildanotherone.”He clasped his hands behind his back. “And the American people may be

sentimental,buttheirgovernmentisnot.TheUSStateDepartmentwon’t tradeanythingmajorforoneman’slife.”“Soit’shopeless?”askedZhuTao.“Nothopeless,”GuoMingcorrected.“Justhard.Ifthisbecomesanegotiation

bydiplomats, itwillneverberesolved.Weneedtokeepthisamongscientists.Space agency to space agency. I’ll get a translator and call NASA’sadministrator.We’llworkoutanagreement,thenpresentit toourgovernmentsasafaitaccompli.”“Butwhatcantheydoforus?”ZhuTaoasked.“We’dbegivingupabooster

andeffectivelycancelingTaiyangShen.”GuoMingsmiled.“They’llgiveussomethingwecan’tgetwithoutthem.”“Andthatis?”“They’llputaChineseastronautonMars.”ZhuTaostood.“Ofcourse.”Hesmiled.“TheAres5crewhasn’tevenbeen

selectedyet.We’llinsistonacrewman.Onewegettopickandtrain.NASAandtheUSStateDepartmentwouldsurelyacceptthat.ButwillourStateCouncil?”Guo Ming smiled wryly. “Publicly rescue the Americans? Put a Chinese

astronautonMars?HavetheworldseeChinaasequaltotheUSinspace?TheStateCouncilwouldselltheirownmothersforthat.”

•••

TEDDYLISTENEDtothephoneathisear.Thevoiceontheotherendfinishedwhatithadtosay,thenfellsilentasitawaitedananswer.Hestaredatnothinginparticularasheprocessedwhathe’djustheard.Afterafewseconds,hereplied,“Yes.”

•••

Johanssen:Yourposteroutsoldtherestofourscombined.You’reahotchickwhowenttoMars.You’reondorm-roomwallsallover

theworld.Lookinglikethat,whyareyousuchanerd?Andyouare,youknow.Aseriousnerd.Ihadtodosomecomputershittoget

Pathfindertalkingtotheroverandohmygod.AndIhadNASAtellingmewhattodoeverystepoftheway.Youshouldtrytobemorecool.Weardarkglassesandaleatherjacket.Carryaswitchblade.Aspiretoalevelofcoolness

knownonlyas…“BotanistCool.”DidyouknowCommanderLewishadachatwithusmen?Ifanyonehitonyou,we’dbeoffthemission.Iguessaftera

lifetimeofcommandingsailors,she’sgotanunfairlyjadedview.Anyway,thepointisyou’reanerd.RemindmetogiveyouawedgienexttimeIseeyou.

•••

“OKAY,HEREweareagain,”saidBrucetotheassembledheadsofJPL.“You’veallheardabouttheTaiyangShen,soyouknowourfriendsinChinahavegivenusonemorechance.Butthistime,it’sgoingtobeharder.“TaiyangShenwillbereadytolaunchintwenty-eightdays.Ifitlauncheson

time,ourpayloadwillgettoMarsonSol624,sixweeksafterWatney’sexpectedtorunoutoffood.NASA’salreadyworkingonwaystostretchhissupply.“WemadehistorywhenwefinishedIrisinsixty-threedays.Nowwehaveto

doitintwenty-eight.”Helookedacrossthetabletotheincredulousfaces.“Folks,”hesaid,“this isgoing tobe themost ‘ghetto’ spacecrafteverbuilt.

There’sonlyonewaytofinishthatfast:nolandingsystem.”“Sorry,what?”JackTrevorstammered.Brucenodded. “Youheardme.No landing system.We’ll needguidance for

in-flightcourseadjustments.ButonceitgetstoMars,it’sgoingtocrash.”“That’scrazy!”Jacksaid.“It’llbegoinganinsanevelocitywhenithits!”“Yep,”Brucesaid.“Withidealatmosphericdrag,it’llimpactatthreehundred

meterspersecond.”“WhatgoodwillapulverizedprobedoWatney?”Jackasked.

“Aslongasthefooddoesn’tburnuponthewayin,Watneycaneatit,”Brucesaid.Turningtothewhiteboard,hebegandrawingabasicorganizationalchart.“I

wanttwoteams,”hebegan.“TeamOnewillmaketheoutershell,guidancesystem,andthrusters.Allwe

needisforittogettoMars.Iwantthesafestpossiblesystem.Aerosolpropellantwould be best. High-gain radio so we can talk to it, and standard satellitenavigationalsoftware.“TeamTwowilldealwiththepayload.Theyneedtofindawaytocontainthe

foodduringimpact.Ifproteinbarshitsandatthreehundredmeterspersecond,they’llmakeprotein-scentedsand.Weneedthemedibleafterimpact.“Wecanweighninehundredandforty-onekilograms.Atleastthreehundred

ofthatneedstobefood.Getcrackin’.”

•••

“UH,DR.KAPOOR?”Richsaid,peekinghisheadintoVenkat’soffice.“Doyouhaveaminute?”Venkatgesturedhimin.“Youare…?”“Rich, Rich Purnell,” he said, shuffling into the office, his arms wrapped

aroundasheafofdisorganizedpapers.“Fromastrodynamics.”“Nicetomeetyou,”Venkatsaid.“WhatcanIdoforyou,Rich?”“Icameupwithsomethingawhileago.Spentalotoftimeonit.”Hedumped

thepapersonVenkat’sdesk.“Lemmefindthesummary.…”Venkat stared forlornly at his once-clean desk, now strewn with scores of

printouts.“Herewego!”Richsaidtriumphantly,grabbingapaper.Thenhisexpression

saddened.“No,thisisn’tit.”“Rich,”Venkatsaid.“Maybeyoushouldjusttellmewhatthisisabout?”Rich looked at the mess of papers and sighed. “But I had such a cool

summary.…”“Asummaryforwhat?”“HowtosaveWatney.”“That’salreadyinprogress,”Venkatsaid.“It’salast-ditcheffort,but—”“TheTaiyangShen?”Richsnorted.“Thatwon’twork.Youcan’tmakeaMars

probeinamonth.”“We’re sure as hell going to try,” Venkat said, a note of annoyance in his

voice.“Oh, sorry, am I being difficult?” Rich asked. “I’m not good with people.

SometimesI’mdifficult.Iwishpeoplewouldjusttellme.Anyway,theTaiyangSheniscritical.Infact,myideawon’tworkwithoutit.ButaMarsprobe?Pfft.C’mon.”“Allright,”Venkatsaid.“What’syouridea?”Richsnatchedapaperfromthedesk.“Hereitis!”HehandedittoVenkatwith

achildlikesmile.Venkat took the summary and skimmed it.Themore he read, thewider his

eyesgot.“Areyousureaboutthis?”“Absolutely!”Richbeamed.“Haveyoutoldanyoneelse?”“WhowouldItell?”“Idon’tknow,”Venkatsaid.“Friends?”“Idon’thaveanyofthose.”“Okay,keepitunderyourhat.”“Idon’twearahat.”“It’sjustanexpression.”“Really?”Richsaid.“It’sastupidexpression.”“Rich,you’rebeingdifficult.”“Ah.Thanks.”

•••

Vogel:Beingyourbackuphasbackfired.IguessNASAfiguredbotanyandchemistryaresimilarbecausetheybothendin“Y,”Onewayoranother,Iendedup

beingyourbackupchemist.Rememberwhentheymadeyouspendadayexplainingyourexperimentstome?Itwasinthemiddleofintensemission

prep.Youmayhaveforgotten.Youstartedmytrainingbybuyingmeabeer.Forbreakfast.Germansareawesome.Anyway,nowthatIhavetimetokill,NASAgavemeapileofwork.Andallyourchemistrycrapisonthelist.SonowI

havetodoboring-assexperimentswithtesttubesandsoilandpHlevelsandZzzzzzzzzz.…Mylifeisnowadesperatestruggleforsurvival…withoccasionaltitration.Frankly,Isuspectyou’reasuper-villain.You’reachemist,youhaveaGermanaccent,youhadabaseonMars…what

morecantherebe?

•••

“WHATTHEfuckis‘ProjectElrond’?”Annieasked.“Ihadtomakesomethingup,”Venkatsaid.“Soyoucameupwith‘Elrond’?”Anniepressed.“Because it’s a secretmeeting?”Mitchguessed. “Thee-mail said I couldn’t

eventellmyassistant.”“I’llexplaineverythingonceTeddyarrives.”Venkatsaid.“Whydoes‘Elrond’mean‘secretmeeting’?”Annieasked.“Arewegoingtomakeamomentousdecision?”BrugeNgasked.“Exactly,”Venkatsaid.“Howdidyouknowthat?”Annieasked,gettingannoyed.“Elrond,”Brucesaid.“TheCouncilofElrond.FromLordoftheRings.It’sthe

meetingwheretheydecidetodestroytheOneRing.”“Jesus,”Anniesaid.“Noneofyougotlaidinhighschool,didyou?”“Goodmorning,”Teddysaidashewalkedintotheconferenceroom.Seating

himself, he rested his hands on the table. “Anyone knowwhat thismeeting’sabout?”heasked.“Wait,”Mitchsaid,“Teddydoesn’tevenknow?”Venkat took a deep breath. “One of our astrodynamicists,Rich Purnell, has

foundaway togetHermes back toMars.ThecoursehecameupwithwouldgiveHermesaMarsflybyonSol549.”Silence.“Youshittin’us?”Anniedemanded.“Sol549?How’sthatevenpossible?”askedBruce.“EvenIriswouldn’thave

landedtillSol588.”“Iris is a point-thrust craft,”Venkat said. “Hermes has a constant-thrust ion

engine.It’salwaysaccelerating.Also,Hermeshasalotofvelocityrightnow.OntheircurrentEarth-interceptcourse, theyhave todecelerate for thenextmonthjusttoslowdowntoEarth’sspeed.”Mitchrubbedthebackofhishead.“Wow…549.That’sthirty-fivesolsbefore

Watneyrunsoutoffood.Thatwouldsolveeverything.”Teddyleanedforward.“Runusthroughit,Venkat.Whatwoulditentail?”“Well,”Venkatbegan,“iftheydidthis‘RichPurnellManeuver,’they’dstart

accelerating right away, to preserve their velocity and gain even more. They

wouldn’t interceptEarth at all, butwould come close enough to use a gravityassist toadjustcourse.Aroundthat time, they’dpickuparesupplyprobewithprovisionsfortheextendedtrip.“After that, they’dbeon an acceleratingorbit towardMars, arrivingonSol

549. Like I said, it’s a Mary flyby. This isn’t anything like a normal Aresmission. They’ll be going too fast to fall into orbit. The rest of themaneuvertakesthembacktoEarth.They’dbehometwohundredandelevendaysaftertheflyby.”“What good is a flyby?” Bruce asked. “They don’t have any way to get

Watneyoffthesurface.”“Yeah…,”Venkatsaid.“Nowfortheunpleasantpart:Watneywouldhaveto

gettotheAres4MAV.”“Schiaparelli!?”Mitchgaped.“That’sthirty-twohundredkilometersaway!”“Threethousand,twohundred,andthirty-fivekilometerstobeexact,”Venkat

said.“It’snotoutofthequestion.HedrovetoPathfinder’slandingsiteandback.That’soverfifteenhundredkilometers.”“That was over flat, desert terrain,” Bruce chimed in, “but the trip to

Schiaparelli—”“Suffice it to say,” Venkat interrupted, “it would be very difficult and

dangerous.Butwehavealotofcleverscientiststohelphimtrickouttherover.AlsotherewouldbeMAVmodifications.”“What’swrongwiththeMAV?”Mitchasked.“It’s designed to get to low Mars orbit,” Venkat explained. “But Hermes

wouldbeonaflyby,sotheMAVwouldhavetoescapeMarsgravityentirelytointercept.”“How?”Mitchasked.“It’d have to lose weight…a lot of weight. I can get rooms full of people

workingontheseproblems,ifwedecidetodothis.”“Earlier,”Teddy said, “youmentioneda supplyprobe forHermes.Wehave

thatcapability?”“Yes, with the Taiyang Shen,” Venkat said. “We’d shoot for a near-Earth

rendezvous.It’saloteasierthangettingaprobetoMars,that’sforsure.”“I see,” Teddy said. “So we have two options on the table: Send Watney

enoughfoodtolastuntilAres4,orsendHermesbacktogethimrightnow.BothplansrequiretheTaiyangShen,sowecanonlydoone.”“Yes,”Venkatsaid.“We’llhavetopickone.”

Theyalltookamomenttoconsider.“What about theHermes crew?”Annie asked, breaking the silence. “Would

theyhaveaproblemwithadding…”Shedidsomequickmathinherhead.“Fivehundredandthirty-threedaystotheirmission?”“Theywouldn’thesitate,”Mitchsaid.“Notforasecond.That’swhyVenkat

calledthismeeting.”HeglaredatVenkat.“Hewantsustodecideinstead.”“That’sright,”Venkatsaid.“ItshouldbeCommanderLewis’scall,”Mitchsaid.“Pointlesstoevenaskher,”Venkatsaid.“Weneedtomakethisdecision;it’sa

matteroflifeanddeath.”“She’sthemissioncommander,”Mitchsaid.“Life-and-deathdecisionsareher

damnjob.”“Easy,Mitch,”Teddysaid.“Bullshit,”Mitchsaid.“Youguyshavedoneendrunsaroundthecrewevery

time something goeswrong.You didn’t tell themWatneywas still alive; nowyou’renottellingthemthere’sawaytosavehim.”“We already have a way to keep him alive,” Teddy said. “We’re just

discussinganotherone.”“Thecrash-lander?”Mitchsaid.“Doesanyonethinkthat’llwork?Anyone?”“All right,Mitch,”Teddy said. “You’ve expressed your opinion, andwe’ve

heard it.Let’smoveon.”He turned toVenkat. “CanHermes function for fivehundredandthirty-threedaysbeyondthescheduledmissionend?”“Itshould,”Venkatsaid.“Thecrewmayhavetofixthingshereandthere,but

they’rewelltrained.Remember,HermeswasmadetodoallfiveAresmissions.It’sonlyhalfwaythroughitsdesignedlifespan.”“It’sthemostexpensivethingeverbuilt,”Teddysaid.“Wecan’tmakeanother

one.Ifsomethingwentwrong,thecrewwoulddie,andtheAresProgramwiththem.”“Losing the crewwould be a disaster,”Venkat said. “Butwewouldn’t lose

Hermes. We can remotely operate it. So long as the reactor and ion enginescontinuedtowork,wecouldbringitback.”“Space travel is dangerous,”Mitch said. “We can’t make this a discussion

aboutwhat’ssafest.”“Idisagree,”Teddysaid.“Thisisabsolutelyadiscussionaboutwhat’ssafest.

And about howmany lives are at stake.Both plans are risky, but resupplyingWatneyonlyrisksonelifewhiletheRichPurnellManeuverriskssix.”

“Considerdegree of risk, Teddy,” Venkat said. “Mitch is right. The crash-lander is high-risk. It couldmissMars, it could reenterwrong andburn up, itcouldcrashtoohardanddestroythefood…Weestimateathirtypercentchanceofsuccess.”“Anear-EarthrendezvouswithHermesismoredoable?”Teddyasked.“Much more doable,” Venkat confirmed. “With sub-second transmission

delays, we can control the probe directly from Earth rather than rely onautomatedsystems.Whenthe timecomes todock,MajorMartinezcanpilot itremotely fromHermes with no transmission delay at all. AndHermes has ahumancrew,abletoovercomeanyhiccupsthatmayhappen.Andwedon’thavetodoa reentry; the suppliesdon’thave to survivea three-hundred-meters-per-secondimpact.”“So,”Bruceoffered,“wecanhaveahighchanceofkillingoneperson,ora

lowchanceofkillingsixpeople.Jeez.Howdoweevenmakethisdecision?”“We talk about it, then Teddymakes the decision,” Venkat said. “Not sure

whatelsewecando.”“WecouldletLewis—”Mitchbegan.“Yeah,otherthanthat,”Venkatinterrupted.“Question,”Anniesaid.“WhatamIevenherefor?Thisseemslikesomething

foryounerdstodiscuss.”“You need to be in the loop,”Venkat said. “We’re not deciding right now.

We’llneedtoquietlyresearchthedetailsinternally.Somethingmightleak,andyouneedtobereadytodancearoundquestions.”“Howlonghavewegottomakeadecision?”Teddyasked.“Thewindowforstartingthemaneuverendsinthirty-ninehours.”“All right,”Teddysaid.“Everyone,wediscuss thisonly inpersonoron the

phone;nevere-mail.Anddon’ttalktoanyoneaboutthis,otherthanthepeoplehere.Thelastthingweneedispublicopinionpressingforariskycowboyrescuethatmaybeimpossible.”

•••

Beck:Hey,man.Howyabeen?NowthatI’mina“diresituation,”Idon’thavetofollowsocialrulesanymore.Icanbehonestwitheveryone.Bearingthatinmind,Ihavetosay…dude…youneedtotellJohanssenhowyoufeel.Ifyoudon’t,you’llregretitforever.Iwon’tlie:Itcouldendbadly.Ihavenoideawhatshethinksofyou.Orofanything.She’sweird.Butwaittillthemission’sover.You’reonashipwithherforanothertwomonths.Also,ifyouguysgotuptoanything

whilethemissionwasinprogress,Lewiswouldkillyou.

•••

VENKAT,MITCH,Annie,Bruce,andTeddymetforthesecondtimeinasmanydays.“ProjectElrond”hadtakenonadarkconnotationthroughouttheSpaceCenter,veiledinsecrecy.Manypeopleknewthename,noneknewitspurpose.Speculationranrampant.Somethought itwasacompletelynewprogramin

the works. Others worried it might be a move to cancel Ares 4 and 5.MostthoughtitwasAres6intheworks.“It wasn’t an easy decision,” Teddy said to the assembled elite. “But I’ve

decidedtogowithIris2.NoRichPurnellManeuver.”Mitchslammedhisfistonthetable.“We’lldoallwecantomakeitwork,”Brucesaid.“Ifit’snottoomuchtoask,”Venkatbegan,“whatmadeupyourmind?”Teddysighed.“It’samatterofrisk,”hesaid.“Iris2onlyrisksonelife.Rich

Purnellrisksallsixof them.IknowRichPurnell ismorelikelytowork,butIdon’tthinkit’ssixtimesmorelikely.”“Youcoward,”Mitchsaid.“Mitch…,”Venkatsaid.“Yougoddamnedcoward,”Mitchcontinued,ignoringVenkat.“Youjustwant

to cut your losses. You’re on damage control. You don’t give a shit aboutWatney’slife.”“OfcourseIdo,”Teddyreplied.“AndI’msickofyourinfantileattitude.You

can throwall the tantrumsyouwant,but the restofushave tobeadults.Thisisn’taTVshow;theriskiersolutionisn’talwaysthebest.”“Space isdangerous,”Mitchsnapped.“It’swhatwedohere. Ifyouwant to

playitsafeallthetime,gojoinaninsurancecompany.Andbytheway,it’snotevenyourlifeyou’rerisking.Thecrewcanmakeuptheirownmindsaboutit.”“No, they can’t,” Teddy fired back. “They’re too emotionally involved.

Clearly, so are you. I’m not gambling five additional lives to save one.Especiallywhenwemightsavehimwithoutriskingthematall.”“Bullshit!” Mitch shot back as he stood from his chair. “You’re just

convincingyourselfthecrash-landerwillworksoyoudon’thavetotakearisk.You’rehanginghimouttodry,youchickenshitsonofabitch!”

Hestormedoutoftheroom,slammingthedoorbehindhim.Afterafewseconds,Venkatfollowedbehind,saying,“I’llmakesurehecools

off.”Bruceslumpedinhischair.“Sheesh,”hesaidnervously.“We’rescientists,for

Christ’ssake.Whatthehell!?”Anniequietlygatheredherthingsandplacedtheminherbriefcase.Teddy looked to her. “Sorry about that, Annie,” he said. “What can I say?

Sometimesmenlettestosteronetakeover—”“Iwashopinghe’dkickyourass,”sheinterrupted.“What?”“I know you care about the astronauts, but he’s right. You are a fucking

coward.Ifyouhadballs,wemightbeabletosaveWatney.”

•••

Lewis:Hi,Commander.BetweentrainingandourtriptoMars,Ispenttwoyearsworkingwithyou.IthinkIknowyouprettywell.SoI’m

guessingyoustillblameyourselfformysituation,despitemyearliere-mailaskingyounotto.Youwerefacedwithanimpossiblescenarioandmadeatoughdecision.That’swhatcommandersdo.Andyourdecision

wasright.Ifyou’dwaitedanylonger,theMAVwouldhavetipped.I’msureyou’verunthroughallthepossibleoutcomesinyourhead,soyouknowthere’snothingyoucouldhavedone

differently(otherthan“bepsychic”).Youprobablythinklosingacrewmanistheworstthingthatcanhappen.Nottrue.Losingthewholecrewisworse.You

keptthatfromhappening.Butthere’ssomethingmoreimportantweneedtodiscuss:Whatisitwithyouanddisco?Icanunderstandthe’70sTV

becauseeveryoneloveshairypeoplewithhugecollars.Butdisco?Disco!?

•••

VOGELCHECKEDthepositionandorientationofHermesagainsttheprojectedpath.Itmatched, as usual. In addition to being themission’s chemist, hewas also anaccomplished astrophysicist. Though his duties as navigator were laughablyeasy.The computer knew the course. It knewwhen to angle the ship so the ion

engineswould be aimed correctly.And it knew the location of the ship at alltimes(easilycalculatedfromthepositionofthesunandEarth,andknowingtheexacttimefromanon-boardatomicclock).

Barring a complete computer failure or other critical event, Vogel’s vastknowledgeofastrodynamicswouldnevercomeintoplay.After completing the check, he ran a diagnostic on the engines. Theywere

functioning at peak. He did all this from his quarters. All onboard computerscouldcontrolallships’functions.Gonewerethedaysofphysicallyvisitingtheenginestocheckuponthem.Havingcompletedhisworkfortheday,hefinallyhadtimetoreade-mail.Sorting through themessagesNASAdeemedworthy to upload, he read the

mostinterestingfirstandrespondedwhennecessary.HisresponseswerecachedandwouldbesenttoEarthwithJohanssen’snextuplink.Amessage from hiswife caught his attention. Titled “unserekinder” (“our

children”),itcontainednothingbutanimageattachment.Heraisedaneyebrow.Several things stood out at once. First, “kinder” should have been capitalized.Helena, a grammar school teacher inBremen,was very unlikely tomake thatmistake.Also,toeachother,theyaffectionatelycalledtheirkidsdieAffen.When he tried to open the image, his viewer reported that the file was

unreadable.He walked down the narrow hallway. The crew quarters stood against the

outer hull of the constantly spinning ship to maximize simulated gravity.Johanssen’sdoorwasopen,asusual.“Johanssen. Good evening,” Vogel said. The crew kept the same sleep

schedule,anditwasnearingbedtime.“Oh,hello,”Johanssensaid,lookingupfromhercomputer.“Ihavethecomputerproblem,”Vogelexplained.“Iwonderifyouwillhelp.”“Sure,”shesaid.“Youareinthepersonaltime,”Vogelsaid.“Perhapstomorrowwhenyouare

onthedutyisbetter?”“Now’sfine,”shesaid.“What’swrong?”“Itisafile.Itisanimage,butmycomputercannotview.”“Where’sthefile?”sheasked,typingonherkeyboard.“Itisonmysharedspace.Thenameis‘kinder.jpg.’”“Let’stakealook,”shesaid.Her fingers flew over her keyboard as windows opened and closed on her

screen. “Definitely a bad jpg header,” she said. “Probably mangled in thedownload.Lemmelookwithahexeditor,seeifwegotanythingatall.…”Afterafewmomentsshesaid,“Thisisn’tajpeg.It’saplainASCIItextfile.

Looks like…well, I don’t know what it is. Looks like a bunch of mathformulae.”Shegesturedtothescreen.“Doesanyofthismakesensetoyou?”Vogelleanedin,lookingatthetext.“Ja,”hesaid.“Itisacoursemaneuverfor

Hermes.Itsaysthenameis‘RichPurnellManeuver.’”“What’sthat?”Johanssenasked.“I have not heard of this maneuver.” He looked at the tables. “It is

complicated…verycomplicated.…”Hefroze.“Sol549!?”heexclaimed.“MeinGott!”

•••

THE HERMES crew enjoyed their scant personal time in an area called “the Rec.”Consisting of a table and barely room to seat six, it ranked low in gravitypriority.Itspositionamidshipsgranteditamere0.2g.Still, itwasenoughtokeepeveryone inaseatas theyponderedwhatVogel

toldthem.“…and thenmissionwould concludewith Earth intercept two hundred and

elevendayslater,”hefinishedup.“Thank you, Vogel,” Lewis said. She’d heard the explanation earlier when

Vogel came to her, but Johanssen,Martinez, andBeckwere hearing it for thefirsttime.Shegavethemamomenttodigest.“Wouldthisreallywork?”Martinezasked.“Ja.” Vogel nodded. “I ran the numbers. They all check out. It is brilliant

course.Amazing.”“HowwouldhegetoffMars?”Martinezasked.Lewis leaned forward. “Therewasmore in themessage,” shebegan. “We’d

havetopickupasupplynearEarth,andhe’dhavetogettoAres4’sMAV.”“Whyallthecloakanddagger?”Beckasked.“According to the message,” Lewis explained, “NASA rejected the idea.

They’drathertakeabigriskonWatneythanasmallriskonallofus.WhoeversnuckitintoVogel’se-mailobviouslydisagreed.”“So,” Martinez said, “we’re talking about going directly against NASA’s

decision?”“Yes,” Lewis confirmed, “that’s exactlywhatwe’re talking about. Ifwe go

throughwiththemaneuver,they’llhavetosendthesupplyshiporwe’lldie.We

havetheopportunitytoforcetheirhand.”“Arewegoingtodoit?”Johanssenasked.TheyalllookedtoLewis.“I won’t lie,” she said. “I’d sure as hell like to. But this isn’t a normal

decision. This is something NASA expressly rejected. We’re talking aboutmutiny.Andthat’snotawordIthrowaroundlightly.”Shestoodandpacedslowlyaroundthetable.“We’llonlydoitifweallagree.

And before you answer, consider the consequences. Ifwemess up the supplyrendezvous,wedie.IfwemessuptheEarthgravityassist,wedie.“Ifwedoeverythingperfectly,weaddfivehundredand thirty-threedays to

ourmission.Fivehundredandthirty-threedaysofunplannedspacetravelwhereanythingcouldgowrong.Maintenancewillbeahassle.Somethingmightbreakthatwecan’tfix.Ifit’slife-critical,wedie.”“Signmeup!”Martinezsmiled.“Easy,cowboy,”Lewissaid.“YouandIaremilitary.There’sagoodchance

we’dbecourt-martialedwhenwegothome.Asfortherestofyou,Iguaranteethey’llneversendyouupagain.”Martinezleanedagainstthewall,armsfoldedwithahalfgrinonhisface.The

restsilentlyconsideredwhattheircommanderhadsaid.“Ifwe do this,”Vogel said, “itwould be over one thousand days of space.

Thisisenoughspaceforalife.Idonotneedtoreturn.”“SoundslikeVogel’sin,”Martinezgrinned.“Me,too,obviously.”“Let’sdoit,”Becksaid.“Ifyouthinkit’llwork,”JohanssensaidtoLewis,“Itrustyou.”“Okay,”Lewissaid.“Ifwegoforit,what’sinvolved?”Vogelshrugged.“Iplotthecourseandexecuteit,”hesaid.“Whatelse?”“Remoteoverride,”Johanssensaid.“It’sdesignedtoget theshipback ifwe

alldieorsomething.TheycantakeoverHermesfromMissionControl.”“Butwe’rerighthere,”Lewissaid.“Wecanundowhatevertheytry,right?”“Not really,” Johanssen said. “Remote override takes priority over any

onboardcontrols.Itassumesthere’sbeenadisasterandtheship’scontrolpanelscan’tbetrusted.”“Canyoudisableit?”Lewisasked.“Hmm…”Johanssenpondered.“Hermeshasfourredundantflightcomputers,

eachconnectedtothreeredundantcommsystems.Ifanycomputergetsasignal

fromanycommsystem,MissionControlcantakeover.Wecan’tshutdownthecomms;we’d lose telemetryandguidance.Wecan’tshutdownthecomputers;weneedthemtocontroltheship.I’llhavetodisabletheremoteoverrideoneachsystem.…It’spartoftheOS;I’llhavetojumpoverthecode.…Yes.Icandoit.”“You’resure?”Lewisasked.“Youcanturnitoff?”“Shouldn’tbehard,”Johanssensaid.“It’sanemergencyfeature,notasecurity

program.Itisn’tprotectedagainstmaliciouscode.”“Maliciouscode?”Becksmiled.“So…you’llbeahacker?”“Yeah.”Johanssensmiledback.“IguessIwill.”“All right,” Lewis said. “Looks like we can do it. But I don’t want peer

pressure forcing anyone into it.We’llwait for twenty-four hours.During thattime,anyonecanchangetheirmind.Justtalktomeinprivateorsendmeane-mail.I’llcallitoffandnevertellanyonewhoitwas.”Lewisstayedbehindastherestfiledout.Watchingthemleave,shesawthey

weresmiling.Allfourofthem.ForthefirsttimesinceleavingMars,theywerebacktotheiroldselves.Sheknewrightthennoone’smindwouldchange.TheyweregoingbacktoMars.

•••

EVERYONEKNEWBrendanHutchwouldberunningmissionssoon.He’d risen throughNASA’s ranks as fast as one could in the large, inertia-

bound organization. He was known as a diligent worker, and his skill andleadershipqualitieswereplaintoallhissubordinates.BrendanwasinchargeofMissionControlfromonea.m. toninea.m.every

night. Continued excellent performance in this rolewould certainly net him apromotion. Ithadalreadybeenannouncedhe’dbebackup flight controller forAres4,andhehadagoodshotatthetopjobforAres5.“Flight,CAPCOM,”avoicesaidthroughhisheadset.“Go,CAPCOM,”Brendan responded.Though theywere in the same room,

radioprotocolwasobservedatalltimes.“UnscheduledstatusupdatefromHermes.”WithHermesninetylight-secondsaway,back-and-forthvoicecommunication

was impractical. Other than media relations,Hermes would communicate viatextuntiltheyweremuchcloser.

“Roger,”Brendansaid.“Readitout.”“I…I don’t get it, Flight,” came the confused reply. “No real status, just a

singlesentence.”“What’sitsay?”“Message reads: ‘Houston,beadvised:RichPurnell is a steely-eyedmissile

man.’”“What?”Brendanasked.“WhothehellisRichPurnell?”“Flight,Telemetry,”anothervoicesaid.“Go,Telemetry,”Brendansaid.“Hermesisoffcourse.”“CAPCOM,adviseHermesthey’redrifting.Telemetry,getacorrectionvector

ready—”“Negative, Flight,” Telemetry interrupted. “It’s not drift. They adjusted

course.Instrumentationuplinkshowsadeliberate27.812-degreerotation.”“Whatthehell?”Brendanstammered.“CAPCOM,askthemwhatthehell.”“Roger, Flight…message sent. Minimum reply time three minutes, four

seconds.”“Telemetry,anychancethisisinstrumentationfailure?”“Negative, Flight. We’re tracking them with SatCon. Observed position is

consistentwiththecoursechange.”“CAPCOM, read your logs and see what the previous shift did. See if a

massivecoursechangewasorderedandsomehownobodytoldus.”“Roger,Flight.”“Guidance,Flight,”Brendansaid.“Go,Flight,”wasthereplyfromtheguidancecontroller.“Workouthow long theycan stayon thiscoursebefore it’s irreversible.At

whatpointwilltheynolongerbeabletointerceptEarth?”“Workingonthatnow,Flight.”“AndsomebodyfindoutwhothehellRichPurnellis!”

•••

MITCHPLOPPEDdownonthecouchinTeddy’soffice.HeputhisfeetuponthecoffeetableandsmiledatTeddy.“Youwantedtoseeme?”

“Why’dyoudoit,Mitch?”Teddydemanded.“Dowhat?”“YouknowdamnwellwhatI’mtalkingabout.”“Oh, you mean the Hermes mutiny?” Mitch said innocently. “You know,

that’dmakeagoodmovietitle.TheHermesMutiny.Gotaniceringtoit.”“Weknowyoudidit,”Teddysaidsternly.“Wedon’tknowhow,butweknow

yousentthemthemaneuver.”“Soyoudon’thaveanyproof.”Teddyglared.“No.Notyet,butwe’reworkingonit.”“Really?”Mitchsaid.“Isthatreallythebestuseofourtime?Imean,wehave

anear-Earthresupplytoplan,nottomentionfiguringouthowtogetWatneytoSchiaparelli.We’vegotalotonourplates.”“You’redamnrightwehavea lotonourplates!”Teddyfumed.“Afteryour

littlestunt,we’recommittedtothisthing.”“Alleged stunt,”Mitch said, raising a finger. “I supposeAnniewill tell the

mediawedecided to try this riskymaneuver?Andshe’ll leaveout themutinypart?”“Ofcourse,”Teddysaid.“Otherwisewe’dlooklikeidiots.”“Iguesseveryone’soff thehookthen!”Mitchsmiled.“Can’tfirepeoplefor

enactingNASApolicy.EvenLewis is fine.Whatmutiny?AndmaybeWatneygetstolive.Happyendingsallaround!”“Youmayhavekilledthewholecrew,”Teddycountered.“Everthinkofthat?”“Whoever gave them the maneuver,” Mitch said, “only passed along

information.Lewismade thedecision toacton it. Ifshe letemotioncloudherjudgment,she’dbeashittycommander.Andshe’snotashittycommander.”“If I can ever prove it was you, I’ll find a way to fire you for it,” Teddy

warned.“Sure.”Mitch shrugged. “But if Iwasn’twilling to take risks to save lives,

I’d…”Hethoughtforamoment.“Well,IguessI’dbeyou.”

CHAPTER17

LOGENTRY:SOL192

Holyshit!They’recomingbackforme!Idon’tevenknowhowtoreact.I’mchokedup!AndI’vegotashitloadofworktodobeforeIcatchthatbushome.They can’t orbit. If I’m not in spacewhen they pass by, all they can do is

wave.I have to get to Ares 4’s MAV. Even NASA accepts that. And when the

nanniesatNASArecommenda3200-kilometeroverlanddrive,youknowyou’reintrouble.Schiaparelli,hereIcome!Well…notrightaway.Istillhavetodotheaforementionedshitloadofwork.Mytrip toPathfinderwasaquick jauntcompared to theepic journey that’s

coming up. I got away with a lot of shortcuts because I only had to surviveeighteensols.Thistime,thingsaredifferent.I averaged80kilometersper solonmyway toPathfinder. If Ido thatwell

towardSchiaparelli,thetrip’lltakefortysols.Callitfiftytobesafe.But there’smore to it than just travel. Once I get there, I’ll need to set up

campanddoabunchofMAVmodifications.NASAestimatesthey’lltakethirtysols,forty-fivetobesafe.BetweenthetripandtheMAVmods,that’sninety-fivesols.Callitonehundredbecauseninety-fivecriesouttobeapproximated.SoI’llneedtosurviveawayfromtheHabforahundredsols.“WhatabouttheMAV?”Ihearyouask(inmyfeveredimagination).“Won’tit

havesomesupplies?Airandwaterattheveryleast?”Nope.It’sgotdick-all.Itdoeshaveair tanks,but they’reempty.AnAresmissionneeds lotsofO2,

N2,andwateranyway.WhysendmorewiththeMAV?EasiertohavethecrewtopofftheMAVfromtheHab.Fortunatelyformycrewmates,themissionplanhadMartinezfilltheMAVtanksonSol1.TheflybyisonSol549,soI’llneedtoleaveby449.Thatgivesme257sols

togetmyassingear.Seemslikealongtime,doesn’tit?In that time, I need to modify the rover to carry the “Big Three”: the

atmosphericregulator,theoxygenator,andthewaterreclaimer.Allthreeneedtobe in thepressurizedarea,but the rover isn’tbigenough.All threeneed toberunningatalltimes,buttherover’sbatteriescan’thandlethatloadforlong.Theroverwillalsoneedtocarryallmyfood,water,andsolarcells,myextra

battery, my tools, some spare parts, and Pathfinder. As my sole means ofcommunication with NASA, Pathfinder gets to ride on the roof, GrannyClampettstyle.I have a lot of problems to solve, but I have a lot of smart people to solve

them.PrettymuchthewholeplanetEarth.NASAisstillworkingonthedetails,buttheideaistousebothrovers.Oneto

drivearound,theothertoactasmycargotrailer.I’ll have to make structural changes to that trailer. And by “structural

changes”Imean“cutabigholeinthehull.”ThenIcanmovetheBigThreeinanduseHabcanvastolooselycoverthehole.It’llballoonoutwhenIpressurizetherover,butit’llhold.HowwillIcutabigchunkoutofarover’shull?I’llletmylovelyassistantVenkatKapoorexplainfurther:

[14:38]JPL:I’msureyou’rewonderinghowtocutaholeintherover.Ourexperimentsshowarocksampledrillcangetthroughthehull.Wearandtearonthebitisminimal(rocksareharder

thancarboncomposite).Youcancutholesinaline,thenchiselouttheremainingchunksbetweenthem.Ihopeyoulikedrilling.Thedrillbitis1cmwide,theholeswillbe0.5cmapart,andthelengthofthetotalcutis11.4m.

That’s760holes.Andeachonetakes160secondstodrill.Problem:Thedrillsweren’tdesignedforconstructionprojects.Theywereintendedforquickrocksamples.Thebatteries

onlylast240seconds.Youdohavetwodrills,butyou’dstillonlyget3holesdonebeforeneedingtorecharge.Andrechargingtakes41minutes.

That’s173hoursofwork,limitedto8EVAhoursperday.That’s21daysofdrilling,andthat’sjusttoolong.Allourotherideashingeonthiscutworking.Ifitdoesn’t,weneedtimetocomeupwithnewones.

SowewantyoutowireadrilldirectlytoHabpower.Thedrillexpects28.8Vandpulls9amps.Theonlylinesthatcanhandlethataretheroverrechargelines.They’re36V,

10ampmax.Sinceyouhavetwo,we’recomfortablewithyoumodifyingone.We’llsendyouinstructionsonhowtostepdownthevoltageandputanewbreakerintheline,butI’msureyoualready

knowhow.

I’ll be playing with high-voltage power tomorrow. Can’t imagine anythinggoingwrongwiththat!

LOGENTRY:SOL193

I managed to not kill myself today, even though I was working with highvoltage.Well,it’snotasexcitingasallthat.Idisconnectedthelinefirst.As instructed, I turned a rover charging cable into a drill power source.

Getting the voltage right was a simple matter of adding resistors, which myelectronicskithasinabundance.Ihadtomakemyownnine-ampbreaker.Istrungthreethree-ampbreakersin

parallel.There’snoway fornineamps toget through thatwithout trippingallthreeinrapidsuccession.ThenIhadtorewireadrill.PrettymuchthesamethingIdidwithPathfinder.

TakeoutthebatteryandreplaceitwithapowerlinefromtheHab.Butthistimeitwasaloteasier.Pathfinderwastoobigtofitthroughanyofmyairlocks,soIhadtodoallthe

rewiringoutside.Everdoneelectronicswhilewearingaspacesuit?Painintheass.IevenhadtomakeaworkbenchoutofMAVlandingstruts,remember?Anyway,thedrillfitintheairlockeasily.It’sonlyametertall,andshapedlike

ajackhammer.Wedidourrocksamplingstandingup,likeApolloastronauts.Also,unlikemyPathfinderhatchetjob,Ihadthefullschematicsofthedrill.I

removedthebatteryandattachedapowerlinewhereitusedtobe.Then,takingthedrilland itsnewcordoutside, Iconnected it to themodified roverchargerandfireditup.Workedlikeacharm!Thedrillwhirledawaywithhappyabandon.Somehow,

Ihadmanagedtodoeverythingrightthefirsttry.Deepdown,IthoughtI’dfrythedrillforsure.Itwasn’tevenmiddayyet.Ifiguredwhynotgetajumpondrilling?

[10:07]Watney:Powerlinemodificationscomplete.Hookedituptoadrill,anditworksgreat.Plentyofdaylightleft.Sendmeadescriptionofthatholeyouwantmetocut.

[10:25]JPL:Gladtohearit.Startingonthecutsoundsgreat.Justtobeclear,thesearemodificationstoRover1,whichwe’vebeencalling“thetrailer.”Rover2(theonewithyourmodificationsforthetriptoPathfinder)shouldremainasisfornow.

You’llbetakingachunkoutoftheroof,justinfrontoftheairlockintherearofthevehicle.Theholeneedstobeatleast2.5mlongandthefull2mwidthofthepressurevessel.

Beforeanycuts,drawtheshapeonthetrailer,andpositionthetrailerwherePathfinder’scameracanseeit.We’llletyouknowifyougotitright.

[10:43]Watney:Roger.Takeapicat11:30,ifyouhaven’theardfrommebythen.

Theroversaremadetointerlocksoonecantowtheother.Thatwayyoucanrescueyourcrewmatesifallhellbreaksloose.Forthatsamereason,roverscan

share air via hoses you connect between them. That little feature will let meshareatmospherewiththetraileronmylongdrive.I’dstolenthetrailer’sbatterylongago;ithadnoabilitytomoveunderitsown

power. So I hitched it up tomy awesomelymodified rover and towed it intoplacenearPathfinder.Venkattoldmeto“draw”theshapeIplantocut,butheneglectedtomention

how. It’s not like I have a Sharpie that can work out on the surface. So IvandalizedMartinez’sbed.The cots are basically hammocks. Lightweight string woven loosely into

somethingthat’scomfortabletosleepon.EverygramcountswhenmakingstufftosendtoMars.I unraveledMartinez’s bed and took the string outside, then taped it to the

trailerhullalongthepathIplannedtocut.Yes,ofcourseduct tapeworksinanear-vacuum. Duct tape works anywhere. Duct tape is magic and should beworshiped.IcanseewhatNASAhasinmind.Therearofthetrailerhasanairlockthat

we’renotgoingtomesswith.ThecutisjustaheadofitandwillleaveplentyofspacefortheBigThreetostand.IhavenoideahowNASAplanstopowertheBigThreefortwenty-fouranda

halfhoursadayandstillhaveenergylefttodrive.Ibettheydon’tknow,either.Butthey’resmart;they’llworksomethingout.

[11:49]JPL:Whatwecanseeofyourplannedcutlooksgood.We’reassumingtheothersideisidentical.You’reclearedtostartdrilling.

[12:07]Watney:That’swhatshesaid.[12:25]JPL:Seriously,Mark?Seriously?

First, I depressurized the trailer. Call me crazy, but I didn’t want the drillexplosivelylaunchedatmyface.ThenIhadtopicksomewheretostart.Ithoughtit’dbeeasiesttostartonthe

side.Iwaswrong.Theroofwouldhavebeenbetter.ThesidewasahasslebecauseIhadtohold

the drill parallel to the ground. This isn’t your dad’s Black & Decker we’retalkingabout.It’sameterlongandonlysafetoholdbythehandles.Gettingittobitewasnasty.Ipresseditagainstthehullandturnediton,butit

wanderedallovertheplace.SoIgotmytrustyhammerandscrewdriver.Withafewtaps,Imadeasmallchipinthecarboncomposite.That gave the bit a place to seat, so I could keep drilling in one place.As

NASApredicted,ittookabouttwoandahalfminutestogetallthewaythrough.

Ifollowedthesameprocedureforthesecondholeanditwentmuchsmoother.Afterthethirdhole,thedrill’soverheatlightcameon.Thepoordrillwasn’tdesignedtooperateconstantlyforsolong.Fortunately,

itsensedtheoverheatandwarnedme.SoIleaneditagainsttheworkbenchforafewminutes,anditcooleddown.OnethingyoucansayaboutMars:It’sreallycold. The thin atmosphere doesn’t conduct heat very well, but it coolseverything,eventually.Ihadalreadyremovedthedrill’scowling(thepowercordneededawayin).A

pleasant side effect is the drill cools even faster. Though I’ll have to clean itthoroughlyeveryfewhoursasdustaccumulates.By17:00,whenthesunbegantoset,Ihaddrilledseventy-fiveholes.Agood

start,butthere’sstilltonstodo.Eventually(probablytomorrow)I’llhavetostartdrillingholesthatIcan’treachfromtheground.ForthatI’llneedsomethingtostandon.Ican’tusemy“workbench.”It’sgotPathfinderonit,andthe last thingI’m

goingtodoismesswiththat.ButI’vegotthreemoreMAVlandingstruts.I’msureIcanmakearamporsomething.Anyway,that’sallstufffortomorrow.Tonightisabouteatingafullrationfor

dinner.Awwwyeah.That’sright.I’meithergettingrescuedonSol549orI’mdying.

ThatmeansIhavethirty-fivesolsofextrafood.Icanindulgeonceinawhile.

LOGENTRY:SOL194

Iaverageaholeevery3.5minutes.Thatincludestheoccasionalbreathertoletthedrillcooloff.I learned this by spending all damn day drilling. After eight hours of dull,

physicallyintensework,Ihad137holestoshowforit.It turnedouttobeeasytodealwithplacesIcouldn’treach.Ididn’tneedto

modifyalandingstrutafterall.Ijusthadtogetsomethingtostandon.Iusedageologicalsamplecontainer(alsoknownas“abox”).Before Iwas in contactwithNASA, Iwould haveworkedmore than eight

hours. I can stay out for ten before even dipping into “emergency” air. ButNASA’sgotalotofnervousNellieswhodon’twantmeoutlongerthanspec.Withtoday’swork,I’maboutone-fourthofthewaythroughthewholecut.At

least,one-fourthofthewaythroughthedrilling.ThenI’llhave759littlechunkstochiselout.AndI’mnotsurehowwellcarboncomposite isgoing to take tothat.ButNASA’lldoitathousandtimesbackonEarthandtellmethebestwaytogetitdone.Anyway,atthisrate,it’lltakefourmoresolsof(boring-ass)worktofinishthe

drilling.I’veactuallyexhaustedLewis’ssupplyofshittyseventiesTV.AndI’veread

allofJohanssen’smysterybooks.I’vealready rifled throughother crewmates’ stuff to findentertainment.But

allofVogel’sstuffisinGerman,Beckbroughtnothingbutmedicaljournals,andMartinezdidn’tbringanything.Igotreallybored,soIdecidedtopickathemesong!Something appropriate.And naturally, it should be something fromLewis’s

godawfulseventiescollection.Itwouldn’tberightanyotherway.There are plenty of great candidates: “Life on Mars?” by David Bowie,

“RocketMan”byEltonJohn,“AloneAgain(Naturally)”byGilbertO’Sullivan.ButIsettledon“Stayin’Alive”bytheBeeGees.

LOGENTRY:SOL195

Another day, another bunch of holes: 145 this time (I’m getting better). I’mhalfwaydone.Thisisgettingreallyold.ButatleastIhaveencouragingmessagesfromVenkattocheermeon!

[17:12]Watney:145holestoday.357total.[17:31]JPL:Wethoughtyou’dhavemoredonebynow.

Dick.Anyway,I’mstillboredatnight.Iguessthat’sagoodthing.Nothing’swrong

with theHab.There’saplan to saveme,and thephysical labor ismakingmesleepwonderfully.Imisstendingthepotatoes.TheHabisn’tthesamewithoutthem.There’s still soil everywhere. No point in lugging it back outside. Lacking

anything better to do, I ran some tests on it.Amazingly, some of the bacteriasurvived.Thepopulationisstrongandgrowing.That’sprettyimpressive,whenyouconsideritwasexposedtonear-vacuumandsubarctictemperaturesforovertwenty-fourhours.My guess is pockets of ice formed around some of the bacteria, leaving a

bubble of survivable pressure inside, and the coldwasn’t quite enough to killthem.Withhundredsofmillionsofbacteria,itonlytakesonesurvivortostaveoffextinction.Lifeisamazinglytenacious.Theydon’twanttodieanymorethanIdo.

LOGENTRY:SOL196

Ifuckedup.Ifuckedupbig-time.Imadeamistakethatmightkillme.I started my EVA around 08:45, same as always. I got my hammer and

screwdriverandstartedchippingthetrailer’shull.It’sapainintheasstomakeachipbeforeeachdrilling,soImakealltheday’schipsinasinglego.Afterchippingout150divots(hey,I’manoptimist),Igottowork.Itwasthesameasyesterdayandthedaybefore.Drillthrough,relocate.Drill

through, relocate. Drill through a third time, then set the drill aside to cool.Repeatthatprocessoverandovertilllunchtime.At12:00,Itookabreak.BackintheHab,Ienjoyedanicelunchandplayed

somechessagainstthecomputer(itkickedmyass).Thenbackoutfortheday’ssecondEVA.At13:30myruinationoccurred,thoughIdidn’trealizeitatthetime.Theworstmomentsinlifeareheraldedbysmallobservations.Thetinylump

onyoursidethatwasn’ttherebefore.Cominghometoyourwifeandseeingtwowineglassesinthesink.Anytimeyouhear“Weinterruptthisprogram…”Forme,itwaswhenthedrilldidn’tstart.Onlythreeminutesearlier,itwasworkingfine.Ihadfinishedaholeandset

thedrillasidetocool.Sameasalways.ButwhenItriedtogetbacktowork,itwasdead.Thepowerlightwouldn’t

evencomeon.Iwasn’tworried. If all else failed, I had another drill. It would take a few

hourstowireitup,butthat’shardlyaconcern.The power light being offmeant therewas probably somethingwrongwith

theline.AquickglanceattheairlockwindowshowedthelightswereonintheHab.So therewereno systemicpowerproblems. I checkedmynewbreakers,andsureenough,allthreehadtripped.I guess the drill pulled a little toomuch amperage.No big deal. I reset the

breakersandgotbacktowork.Thedrillfiredrightup,andIwasbacktomakingholes.Doesn’tseemlikeabigdeal,right?Icertainlydidn’tthinksoatthetime.Ifinishedmydayat17:00afterdrilling131holes.Notasgoodasyesterday,

butIlostsometimetothedrillmalfunction.

Ireportedmyprogress.

[17:08]Watney:131holestoday.488total.Minordrillissue;ittrippedthebreakers.Theremaybeanintermittentshortinthedrill,probablyintheattachmentpointofthepowerline.Mightneedtoredoit.

EarthandMarsarejustovereighteenlight-minutesapartnow.Usually,NASAresponds within twenty-five minutes. Remember, I do all my communicationfromRover2,whichrelayseverythingthroughPathfinder.Ican’tjustloungeintheHabawaitingareply;Ihavetostayintheroveruntiltheyacknowledgethemessage.

[17:38]Watney:Havereceivednoreply.Lastmessagesent30minutesago.Pleaseacknowledge.

Iwaitedanotherthirtyminutes.Stillnoreply.Fearstartedtotakeroot.BackwhenJPL’sNerdBrigadehackedtheroverandPathfindertobeapoor

man’sIMclient, theysentmeacheatsheetfor troubleshooting.Iexecutedthefirstinstruction:

[18:09]Watney:system_command:STATUS[18:09]SYSTEM:Lastmessagesent00h31mago.Lastmessagereceived26h17mago.Lastpingreplyfromprobe

received04h24mago.WARNING:52unansweredpings.

Pathfinderwasnolongertalkingtotherover.Ithadstoppedansweringpingsfour hours and twenty-four minutes ago. Some quick math told me that wasaround13:30today.Thesametimethedrilldied.I tried not to panic. The troubleshooting sheet has a list of things to try if

communicationislost.Theyare(inorder):

1.ConfirmpowerstillflowingtoPathfinder.

2.Rebootrover.

3.RebootPathfinderbydisconnecting/reconnectingpower.

4.Installrover’scommsoftwareontheotherrover’scomputer,tryfromthere.

5.Ifbothroversfail,problemislikelywithPathfinder.Checkconnectionsveryclosely.CleanPathfinderofMartiandust.

6.SpellmessageinMorsecodewithrocks,includethingsattempted.ProblemmayberecoverablewithremoteupdateofPathfinder.

Ionlygotasfarasstep1.IcheckedPathfinder’sconnectionsandthenegative

leadwasnolongerattached.Iwaselated!Whatarelief!Withasmileonmyface,Ifetchedmyelectronics

kitandpreparedtoreattachthelead.Ipulleditoutoftheprobetogiveitagoodcleaning(asbestIcouldwiththeglovesofmyspacesuit)andnoticedsomethingstrange.Theinsulationhadmelted.Ipondered thisdevelopment.Melted insulationusuallymeansashort.More

current thanthewirecouldhandlehadpassedthrough.But thebareportionofthewirewasn’tblackoreven singed,and thepositive lead’s insulationwasn’tmeltedatall.Then, one by one, the horrible realities of Mars came into play. The wire

wouldn’t be burned or singed. That’s a result of oxidization. And there’s nooxygen in theair.There likelywasa shortafterall.Butwith thepositive leadbeingunaffected,thepowermusthavecomefromsomewhereelse.…Andthedrill’sbreakertrippedaroundthesametime.…Oh…shit…TheinternalelectronicsforPathfinderincludedagroundleadtothehull.This

wayitcouldnotbuildupastaticchargeinMartianweatherconditions(nowaterandfrequentsandblastingcanmakeimpressivestaticcharge).Thehull satonPanelA,oneof foursidesof the tetrahedronwhichbrought

Pathfinder toMars. The other three sides are still in Ares Vallis where I leftthem.BetweenPanelAandtheworkbenchweretheMylarballoonsPathfinderhad

used to tumble-land. I had shreddedmanyof them to transport it, but a lot ofmaterialremained—enoughtoreacharoundPanelAandbeincontactwiththehull.IshouldmentionthatMylarisconductive.At13:30,Ileanedthedrillagainsttheworkbench.Thedrill’scowlingwasoff

tomake room for the power line. Theworkbench ismetal. If the drill leanedagainsttheworkbenchjustright,itcouldmakeametal-to-metalconnection.Andthat’sexactlywhathadhappened.Power traveled from the drill line’s positive lead, through the workbench,

through the Mylar, through Pathfinder’s hull, through a bunch of extremelysensitiveandirreplaceableelectronics,andoutthenegativeleadofPathfinder’spowerline.Pathfinder operates on 50milliamps. It got 9000 milliamps, which plowed

through thedelicateelectronics, fryingeverythingalong theway.Thebreakerstripped,butitwastoolate.

Pathfinder’sdead.I’velosttheabilitytocontactEarth.I’monmyown.

CHAPTER18

LOGENTRY:SOL197

Sigh…JustonceI’dlikesomethingtogoasplanned,yaknow?Marskeepstryingtokillme.Well…Marsdidn’telectrocutePathfinder.SoI’llamendthat:Marsandmystupiditykeeptryingtokillme.Okay, enough self-pity. I’m not doomed. Things will just be harder than

planned.IhaveallIneedtosurvive.AndHermesisstillontheway.IspelledoutaMorsecodemessageusingrocks.“PFFRIEDWITH9AMPS.

DEADFOREVER.PLANUNCHANGED.WILLGETTOMAV.”IfIcangettotheAres4MAV,I’llbeset.ButhavinglostcontactwithNASA,

IhavetodesignmyownGreatMartianWinnebagotogetthere.For the time being, I’ve stopped all work on it. I don’t want to continue

withoutaplan.I’msureNASAhadallkindsofideas,butnowIhavetocomeupwithoneonmyown.AsImentioned,theBigThree(atmosphericregulator,oxygenator,andwater

reclaimer) are critical components. I worked around them for my trip toPathfinder. I usedCO2 filters to regulate the atmosphere, and brought enoughoxygenandwaterforthewholetrip.Thatwon’tworkthistime.IneedtheBigThree.Problemis,theysoakupalotofpower,andtheyhavetorunalldaylong.The

roverbatterieshave18kilowatt-hoursofjuice.Theoxygenatoraloneuses44.1kilowatt-hourspersol.Seemyproblem?You know what? “Kilowatt-hours per sol” is a pain in the ass to say. I’m

gonnainventanewscientificunitname.Onekilowatt-hourpersolis…itcanbeanything…um…Isuckatthis…I’llcallita“pirate-ninja.”All told, the Big Three need 69.2 pirate-ninjas, most of that going to the

oxygenatorandtheatmosphericregulator. (Thewaterreclaimeronlyneeds3.6ofthat.)There’llbecutbacks.Theeasiestcutbackisthewaterreclaimer.Ihave620litersofwater(Ihada

lotmorebeforetheHabblewup).Ineedonlythreelitersofwaterpersol,somysupply will last 206 sols. There’s only 100 sols after I leave and before I’mpickedup(ordieintheattempt).

Conclusion: Idon’tneed thewater reclaimerat all. I’lldrinkasneededanddumpmywasteoutdoors.Yeah, that’s right,Mars, I’mgonnapissandshitonyou.That’swhatyougetfortryingtokillmeallthetime.There.Isavedmyself3.6pirate-ninjas.

LOGENTRY:SOL198

I’vehadabreakthroughwiththeoxygenator!I spent most of the day looking at the specs. It heats CO2 to 900°C, then

passesitoverazirconiaelectrolysiscelltoyankthecarbonatomsoff.Heatingthegas iswhat takesmostof the energy.Why is that important?Because I’mjustoneguyandtheoxygenatorwasmadeforsix.One-sixththequantityofCO2

meansone-sixththeenergytoheatit.Thespecsaysitdraws44.1pirate-ninjas,butallthistimeit’sonlybeenusing

7.35becauseofthereducedload.Nowwe’regettingsomewhere!Then there’s thematter of the atmospheric regulator. The regulator samples

the air, figures outwhat’swrongwith it, and corrects the problem.ToomuchCO2? Take it out. Not enough O2? Add some. Without it, the oxygenator isworthless.TheCO2needstobeseparatedinordertobeprocessed.Theregulatoranalyzestheairwithspectroscopy,thenseparatesthegassesby

supercooling them.Different elements turn to liquid at different temperatures.OnEarth,supercoolingthismuchairwouldtakeridiculousamountsofenergy.But(asI’macutelyaware)thisisn’tEarth.HereonMars, supercooling isdonebypumpingair toacomponentoutside

theHab.The air quickly cools to theoutdoor temperature,which ranges from−150°Cto0°C.Whenit’swarm,additionalrefrigerationisused,butcolddayscanturnair toliquidforfree.Therealenergycostcomesfromheatingitbackup.IfitcamebacktotheHabunheated,I’dfreezetodeath.“Butwait!”You’re thinking, “Mars’s atmosphere isn’t liquid.Whydoes the

Hab’saircondense?”TheHab’satmosphereisover100timesasdense,soitturnstoliquidatmuch

higher temperatures.The regulatorgets thebestofbothworlds.Literally.Sidenote:Mars’satmospheredoescondenseatthepoles.Infact,itsolidifiesintodryice.Problem: The regulator takes 21.5 pirate-ninjas. Even adding some of the

Hab’spowercellswouldbarelypowertheregulatorforasol,letalonegivemeenoughjuicetodrive.Morethinkingisrequired.

LOGENTRY:SOL199

I’vegotit.Iknowhowtopowertheoxygenatorandatmosphericregulator.TheproblemwithsmallpressurevesselsisCO2toxicity.Youcanhaveallthe

oxygenintheworld,butoncetheCO2getsabove1percent,you’llstart togetdrowsy. At 2 percent, it’s like being drunk. At 5 percent, it’s hard to stayconscious. Eight percent will eventually kill you. Staying alive isn’t aboutoxygen,it’saboutgettingridofCO2.ThatmeansIneedtheregulator.ButIdon’tneedtheoxygenatorallthetime.I

justneedtogetCO2outoftheairandback-fillwithoxygen.Ihave50litersofliquid oxygen in two 25-liter tanks here in the Hab. That’s 50,000 liters ingaseousform,enoughtolast85days.Notenoughtoseemethroughtorescue,butahellofalot.The regulator can separate the CO2 and store it in a tank, and it can add

oxygentomyairfrommyoxygentanksasneeded.WhenIrunlowonoxygen,IcancampoutforadayanduseallmypowertoruntheoxygenatoronthestoredCO2.Thatway,theoxygenator’spowerconsumptiondoesn’teatupmydrivingjuice.So I’ll run the regulator all the time,butonly run theoxygenatorondays I

dedicatetousingit.Now, on to the next problem. After the regulator freezes the CO2out, the

oxygenandnitrogenarestillgasses,butthey’re−75°C.Iftheregulatorfedthatbacktomyairwithoutreheatingit,I’dbeaPopsiclewithinhours.Mostoftheregulator’spowergoestoheatingthereturnairsothatdoesn’thappen.ButIhaveabetterwaytoheatitup.SomethingNASAwouldn’tconsideron

theirmosthomicidalday.TheRTG!Yes, theRTG.Youmayremember it frommyexciting trip toPathfinder.A

lovelylumpofplutoniumsoradioactiveitgivesoff1500wattsofheat,whichitusestoharvest100wattsofelectricity.Sowhathappenstotheother1400watts?Itgetsradiatedoutasheat.OnthetriptoPathfinder,Ihadtoactuallyremoveinsulationfromtheroverto

ventexcessheatfromthedamnthing.I’llbetapingthatbackinplacebecauseI’llneedthatheattowarmupthereturnairfromtheregulator.Iranthenumbers.Theregulatoruses790wattstoconstantlyreheatair.The

RTG’s1400wattsismorethanequaltothetask,aswellaskeepingtheroverareasonabletemperature.To test, I shut down the heaters in the regulator and noted its power

consumption. After a few minutes, I turned them right back on again. JesusChristthatreturnairwascold.ButIgotthedataIwanted.Withheating,theregulatorneeds21.5pirate-ninjas.Withoutit…(drumroll)1

pirate-ninja.That’sright,almostallofthepowerwasgoingtoheat.As with most of life’s problems, this one can be solved by a box of pure

radiation.I spent the rest of the day double-checkingmy numbers and runningmore

tests.Itallchecksout.Icandothis.

LOGENTRY:SOL200

Ihauledrockstoday.Ineededtoknowwhatkindofpowerefficiencytherover/trailerwillget.On

thewaytoPathfinder,Igot80kilometersfrom18kilowatt-hours.Thistime,theloadwillbealotheavier.I’llbetowingthetrailerandalltheothershit.Ibackedtheroveruptothetrailerandattachedthetowclamps.Easyenough.The trailer has been depressurized for some time now (there’s a couple of

hundred little holes in it, after all), so I opened both airlock doors to have astraightshotattheinterior.ThenIthrewabunchofrocksin.Ihadtoguessattheweight.TheheaviestthingI’llbringwithmeisthewater.

620kilograms’worth.Myfreeze-driedpotatoeswilladdanother200kilograms.I’ll probably havemore solar cells than before, andmaybe a battery from theHab. Plus the atmospheric regulator and oxygenator, of course. Rather thanweighallthatshit,Itookaguessandcalledit1200kilograms.Halfacubicmeterofbasaltweighsaboutthatmuch(moreorless).Aftertwo

hoursofbrutallabor,duringwhichIwhinedalot,Igotitallloadedin.Then,withbothbatteriesfullycharged,IdrovecirclesaroundtheHabuntilI

drainedthemboth.Withablisteringtopspeedof25kph,it’snotanaction-packedthrillride.But

Iwasimpresseditcouldmaintainthatspeedwithalltheextraweight.Theroverhasspectaculartorque.Butphysicallawisapushylittleshit,anditexactedrevengefortheadditional

weight.Ionlygot57kilometersbeforeIwasoutofjuice.That was 57 kilometers on level ground, without having to power the

regulator(whichwon’ttakemuchwiththeheateroff).Callit50kilometersperdaytobesafe.Atthatrateitwouldtake64daystogettoSchiaparelli.Butthat’sjustthetraveltime.Everynowandthen,I’llneedtobreakforadayandlettheoxygenatoruseall

thepower.Howoften?Afterabunchofmath Iworkedout thatmy18-pirate-ninjabudgetcanpowertheoxygenatorenoughtomakeabout2.5solsofO2.I’dhave to stop every two to three sols to reclaimoxygen.My sixty-four-sol tripwouldbecomeninety-two!That’s too long. I’ll tearmyownheadoff if Ihave to live in the rover that

long.

Anyway,I’mexhaustedfromliftingrocksandwhiningabout liftingrocks. IthinkIpulledsomethinginmyback.Gonnatakeiteasytherestoftoday.

LOGENTRY:SOL201

Yeah,Idefinitelypulledsomethinginmyback.Iwokeupinagony.SoI tookabreakfromroverplanning. Instead, Ispent theday takingdrugs

andplayingwithradiation.First, I loaded up on Vicodin for my back. Hooray for Beck’s medical

supplies!Then I drove out to the RTG. It was right where I left it, in a hole four

kilometersaway.OnlyanidiotwouldkeepthatthingneartheHab.Soanyway,IbroughtitbacktotheHab.Eitherit’llkillmeoritwon’t.Alotofworkwentintomakingsureitdoesn’t

break. If Ican’t trustNASA,whocan I trust? (FornowI’ll forget thatNASAtoldustoburyitfaraway.)Istoreditontheroofoftheroverforthetripback.Thatpuppyreallyspews

heat.Ihavesomeflexibleplastictubingintendedforminorwaterreclaimerrepairs.

AfterbringingtheRTGintotheHab,Iverycarefullygluedsometubingaroundtheheatbaffles.Usingafunnelmadefromapieceofpaper,Iranwaterthroughthetubing,lettingitdrainintoasamplecontainer.Sureenough,thewaterheatedup.That’snotreallyasurprise,butit’sniceto

seethermodynamicsbeingwellbehaved.There’sonetrickybit:Theatmosphericregulatordoesn’trunconstantly.The

freeze-separationspeedisdrivenbytheweatheroutside.Sothereturningfrigidairdoesn’tcomeasasteadyflow.AndtheRTGgeneratesaconstant,predictableheat.Itcan’t“rampup”itsoutput.SoI’llheatwaterwiththeRTGtocreateaheatreservoir,thenI’llmakethe

returnairbubblethroughit.ThatwayIdon’thavetoworryaboutwhentheaircomes in. And I won’t have to deal with sudden temperature changes in therover.WhentheVicodinworeoff,mybackhurtevenmorethanbefore.I’mgoingto

needtotakeiteasy.Ican’tjustpoppillsforever.SoI’mtakingafewdaysofffromheavylabor.Tothatend,Imadealittleinventionjustforme.…I took Johanssen’s cot and cut out the hammock. Then I draped spareHab

canvasovertheframe,makingapitinsidethecot,withextracanvasaroundtheedges.OnceIweigheddowntheexcesscanvaswithrocks, Ihadawater-tightbathtub!

Itonlytook100literstofilltheshallowtub.Then, I stole the pump from the water reclaimer. (I can go quite a while

withoutthewaterreclaimeroperating.)IhookedituptomyRTGwaterheaterandputboththeinputandoutputlinesintothetub.Yes,Iknowthisisridiculous,butIhadn’thadabathsinceEarth,andmyback

hurts.Besides,I’mgoingtospend100solswiththeRTGanyway.Afewmorewon’thurt.That’smybullshitrationalizationandI’mstickingwithit.Ittooktwohourstoheatthewaterto37°C.Onceitdid,Ishutoffthepump

andgotin.Ohman!AllIcansayis“Ahhhhhh.”Whythehelldidn’tIthinkofthisbefore?

LOGENTRY:SOL207

Ispentthelastweekrecoveringfrombackproblems.Thepainwasn’tbad,buttherearen’tanychiropractorsonMars,soIwasn’ttakingchances.Itookhotbathstwiceaday,layinmybunkalot,andwatchedshittyseventies

TV. I’vealreadyseenLewis’sentirecollection,but Ididn’thavemuchelse todo.Iwasreducedtowatchingreruns.Igotalotofthinkingdone.Icanmakeeverythingbetterbyhavingmoresolarpanels.Thefourteenpanels

ItooktoPathfinderprovidedthe18kilowatt-hoursthatthebatteriescouldstore.When traveling, I stowed thepanelson the roof.The trailergivesme room tostore another seven (half of its roof will be missing because of the hole I’mcuttinginit).Thistrip’spowerneedswillbedrivenbytheoxygenator.Itallcomesdownto

howmuchpowerIcangive thatgreedy littlebastard inasinglesol. Iwant tominimizehowoften Ihavedayswithno travel.Themore juice Icangive theoxygenator,themoreoxygenit’llliberate,andthelongerIcangobetweenthose“airsols.”Let’sgetgreedy.Let’ssayIcanfindahomeforfourteenmorepanelsinstead

ofseven.Notsurehowtodothat,butlet’ssayIcan.Thatwouldgivemethirty-sixpirate-ninjas toworkwith,whichwouldnetmefivesolsofoxygenperairsol.I’donlyhavetostoponceperfivesols.That’smuchmorereasonable.Plus, if I can arrangebattery storage for the extra power, I could drive 100

kilometerspersol!Easiersaidthandone, though.Thatextra18kilowatt-hoursofstoragewillbetough.I’llhavetotaketwooftheHab’s9-kilowatt-hourfuelcells and load them onto the rover or trailer. They aren’t like the rover’sbatteries;they’renotsmallorportable.They’relightenough,butthey’reprettybig. Imayhave toattach them to theoutsidehull,and thatwouldeat intomysolarcellstorage.Onehundredkilometerspersolisprettyoptimistic.Butlet’ssayIcouldmake

90kilometerspersol,stoppingeveryfifthsoltoreclaimoxygen.I’dgetthereinforty-fivesols.Thatwouldbesweet!In other news, it occurred to me that NASA is probably shitting bricks.

They’rewatchingmewithsatellitesandhaven’tseenmecomeoutof theHabforsixdays.Withmybackbetter,itwastimetodropthemaline.Iheadedout for anEVA.This time,beingverycarefulwhile lugging rocks

around, I spelled out a Morse code message: “INJURED BACK. BETTERNOW.CONTINUINGROVERMODS.”Thatwasenoughphysicallaborfortoday.Idon’twanttooverdoit.ThinkI’llhaveabath.

LOGENTRY:SOL208

Today,itwastimetoexperimentwiththepanels.First, I put theHab on low-powermode: no internal lights, all nonessential

systemsoffline, all internal heating suspended. I’d be outsidemost of the dayanyway.ThenIdetachedtwenty-eightpanelsfromthesolarfarmanddraggedthemto

the rover. I spent four hours stacking them thisway and that. The poor roverlookedliketheBeverlyHillbilliestruck.NothingIdidworked.Theonlywaytogetalltwenty-eightontheroofwastomakestackssohigh

they’dfalloffthefirsttimeIturned.IfIlashedthemtogether,they’dfalloffasaunit.IfIfoundawaytoattachthemperfectlytotherover,theroverwouldtip.Ididn’tevenbothertotest.Itwasobviousbylooking,andIdidn’twanttobreakanything.I haven’t removed the chunkof hull from the trailer yet.Half theholes are

drilled,butI’mnotcommittedtoanything.IfIleftitinplace,Icouldhavefourstacksofsevencells.Thatwouldworkfine;it’sjusttworovers’worthofwhatIdidforthetriptoPathfinder.ProblemisIneedthatopening.Theregulatorhastobeinthepressurizedarea

andit’stoobigtofitintheunmodifiedrover.Pluswhich,theoxygenatorneedstobeinapressurizedareawhileoperating.I’llonlyneediteveryfivesols,butwhatwouldIdoonthatsol?No,theholehastobethere.As it is, I’ll be able to stow twenty-one panels. I need homes for the other

seven.There’sonlyoneplacetheycango:thesidesoftheroverandtrailer.Oneofmyearliermodificationswas“saddlebags”drapedovertherover.One

sideheldtheextrabattery(stolenfromwhatisnowthetrailer),whiletheothersidewasfullofrocksascounterweight.Iwon’tneedthebagsthistimearound.Icanreturnthesecondbatterytothe

trailer fromwhence it came. In fact, it’ll saveme the hassle of themid-driveEVAIhadtodoeverydaytoswapcables.Whentheroversarelinkedup,theyshareresources,includingelectricity.Iwentaheadandreinstalledthetrailer’sbattery.Ittookmetwohours,butit’s

outofthewaynow.Iremovedthesaddlebagsandsetthemaside.Theymaybehandydowntheline.IfI’velearnedonethingfrommystayatClubMars, it’sthateverythingcanbeuseful.Ihadliberatedthesidesoftheroverandthetrailer.Afterstaringatthemfora

while,Ihadmysolution.I’llmake L-brackets that stick out from the undercarriages, with the hooks

facingup.Twobracketspersidetomakeashelf.Icansetpanelsontheshelvesandleanthemagainsttherover.ThenI’lllashthemtothehullwithhomemaderope.There’llbefour“shelves”total;twoontheroverandtwoonthetrailer.Ifthe

brackets stick out far enough to accommodate two panels, I could store eightadditional panels thatway.Thatwouldgivemeonemorepanel than I’d evenplannedfor.I’ll make those brackets and install them tomorrow. I would have done it

today,butitgotdarkandIgotlazy.

LOGENTRY:SOL209

Coldnightlastnight.Thesolarcellswerestilldetachedfromthefarm,soIhadto leave the Hab in low-power mode. I did turn the heat back on (I’m notinsane),butIsettheinternaltemperatureto1°Ctoconservepower.Wakinguptofrigidweatherfeltsurprisinglynostalgic.IgrewupinChicago,afterall.Butnostalgiaonlylastssolong.Ivowedtocompletethebracketstoday,soI

canreturnthepanelstothefarm.ThenIcanturnthedamnheatbackon.I headed out to the MAV’s landing strut array to scavenge metal for the

shelves.MostoftheMAVismadefromcomposite,butthestrutshadtoabsorbtheshockoflanding.Metalwasthewaytogo.IbroughtastrutintotheHabtosavemyselfthehassleofworkinginanEVA

suit. It was a triangular lattice of metal strips held together with bolts. Idisassembledit.Shapingthebracketsinvolvedahammerand…well,that’sit,actually.Making

anLdoesn’ttakealotofprecision.I needed holes where the bolts would pass through. Fortunately, my

Pathfinder-murderingdrillmadeshortworkofthattask.I was worried it would be hard to attach the brackets to the rover’s

undercarriage,butitendedupbeingsimple.Theundercarriagecomesrightoff.After some drilling and bolting, I got the brackets attached to it and thenmounted it back on the rover. I repeated the process for the trailer. Importantnote—the undercarriage is not part of the pressure vessel. The holes I drilledwon’tletmyairout.Itestedthebracketsbyhittingthemwithrocks.Thiskindofsophisticationis

whatweinterplanetaryscientistsareknownfor.Afterconvincingmyselfthebracketswouldn’tbreakatthefirstsignofuse,I

tested thenewarrangement.Twostacksof sevensolarcellson the roofof therover;anothersevenonthetrailer,thentwopershelf.Theyallfit.After lashing the cells in place, I took a little drive. I did some basic

accelerationanddeceleration,turnedinincreasinglytightcircles,andevendidapower-stop.Thecellsdidn’tbudge.Twenty-eightsolarcells,baby!Androomforoneextra!Aftersomewell-earnedfist-pumping,Iunloadedthecellsanddraggedthem

backtothefarm.NoChicagomorningformetomorrow.

LOGENTRY:SOL211

I am smiling a great smile. The smile of amanwho fuckedwith his car anddidn’tbreakit.I spent today removing unnecessary crap from the rover and trailer. I was

pretty damn aggressive about it, too. Space inside the pressure vessels is at apremium.ThemorecrapIclearoutoftherover,themorespacethereisforme.ThemorecrapIclearoutofthetrailer,themoresuppliesIcanstoreinit,andthelessIhavetostoreintherover.Firstoff:Eachvehiclehadabenchforpassengers.Bye!Next:There’snoreasonforthetrailertohavelifesupport.Theoxygentanks,

nitrogentanks,CO2filterassembly…allunnecessary.It’llbesharingairwiththerover (which has its own copy of each of those), and it’ll be carrying theregulatorandoxygenator.BetweentheHabcomponentsandtherover,I’llhavetworedundantlifesupportsystems.That’splenty.ThenIyankedthedriver’sseatandcontrolpaneloutofthetrailer.Thelinkup

withtheroverisphysical.Thetrailerdoesn’tdoanythingbutgetdraggedalongand fed air. It doesn’t need controls or brains. However, I did salvage itscomputer.It’ssmallandlight,soI’llbringitwithme.Ifsomethinggoeswrongwiththerover’scomputerenroute,I’llhaveaspare.Thetrailerhadtonsmorespacenow.Itwastimeforexperimentation.TheHab has twelve 9-kilowatt-hour batteries. They’re bulky and awkward.

Over two meters tall, a half meter wide, and three-quarters of a meter thick.Making them biggermakes them take lessmass per kilowatt hour of storage.Yeah, it’s counterintuitive. But once NASA figured out they could increasevolumetodecreasemass,theywerealloverit.MassistheexpensivepartaboutsendingthingstoMars.Idetached twoof them.As longas I return thembefore theendof theday,

thingsshouldbefine.TheHabmostlyusesthebatteriesatnight.Withbothofthetrailer’sairlockdoorsopenIwasabletogetthefirstbattery

in.Afterplayingreal-lifeTetrisforawhileIfoundawaytogetthefirstbatteryout of theway enough to let the second battery in. Together, they eat up thewholefronthalfofthetrailer.IfIhadn’tclearedtheuselessshitoutearliertoday,I’dneverhavegottenthembothin.The trailer’s battery is in the undercarriage, but the main power line runs

through thepressurevessel, so Iwasable towire theHabbatteriesdirectly in

(nosmallfeatinthedamnEVAsuit).AsystemcheckfromtherovershowedIhaddonethewiringcorrectly.Thismayallseemminor,butit’sawesome.ItmeansIcanhavetwenty-nine

solarcellsand36kilowatt-hoursofstorage.I’llbeabletodomy100kilometersperdayafterall.Fourdaysoutoffive,anyway.

According tomycalendar, theHermes resupplyprobe is being launched fromChina in twodays(if therewerenodelays). If thatscrewsup, thewholecrewwillbeindeepshit.I’mmorenervousaboutthatthananythingelse.I’vebeen inmortaldanger formonths; I’mkindofused to itnow.But I’m

nervous again. Dying would suck, but my crewmates dying would be wayworse.AndIwon’tfindouthowthelaunchwenttillIgettoSchiaparelli.Goodluck,guys.

CHAPTER19

“HEY,MELISSA…,”saidRobert.“AmIgettingthrough?Canyouseeme?”“Loudandclear,babe,”saidCommanderLewis.“Thevideolinkissolid.”“TheysayIhavefiveminutes,”Robertsaid.“Betterthannothing,”Lewissaid.Floatinginherquarters,shegentlytouched

thebulkheadtostopdrifting.“It’snicetoseeyouinreal-timeforachange.”“Yeah.”Robertsmiled.“Icanhardlynoticethedelay.Igottasay,Iwishyou

werecominghome.”Lewissighed.“Me,too,babe.”“Don’tgetmewrong,”Robertquicklyadded.“Iunderstandwhyyou’redoing

all this. Still, from a selfish point of view, I miss my wife. Hey, are youfloating?”“Huh?” Lewis said. “Oh, yeah. The ship isn’t spinning right now. No

centripetalgravity.”“Whynot?”“Becausewe’redockingwiththeTaiyangShen inafewdays.Wecan’tspin

whilewedockwiththings.”“Isee,”saidRobert.“Sohowarethingsupontheship?Anyonegivingyou

shit?”“No.”Lewisshookherhead.“They’reagoodcrew;I’mluckytohavethem.”“Ohhey!”Robertsaid.“Ifoundagreatadditiontoourcollection!”“Oh?What’dyouget?”“An original-production eight-track of Abba’s Greatest Hits. Still in the

originalpackaging.”Lewiswidenedhereyes.“Seriously?A1976oroneofthereprints?”“1976alltheway.”“Wow!Goodfind!”“Iknow,right!?”

•••

WITHAfinalshudder,thejetlinercametoastopatthegate.“Ohgods,”saidVenkat,massaginghisneck.“ThatwasthelongestflightI’ve

everbeenon.”“Mm,”saidTeddy,rubbinghiseyes.“At least we don’t have to go to Jiuquan till tomorrow,” Venkat moaned.

“Fourteenandahalfhoursofflyingisenoughforoneday.”“Don’t get too comfortable,” Teddy said. “We still have to go through

customs,andwe’llprobablyhavetofilloutabunchofformsbecausewe’reU.S.governmentofficials.…It’sgonnabehoursbeforewesleep.”“Craaaap.”Gathering theircarry-on luggage, they trudgedoff theplanewith the restof

thewearytravelers.BeijingCapitalInternationalAirport’sTerminal3echoedwiththecacophony

common to huge air terminals. Venkat and Teddy moved toward the longimmigration line as the Chinese citizens from their flight split off to go to asimplerpoint-of-entryprocess.AsVenkat tookhisplaceinline,Teddyfiledinbehindhimandscannedthe

terminalforaconveniencestore.Anyformofcaffeinewouldbewelcome.“Excuseme,gentlemen,”cameavoicefrombesidethem.TheyturnedtoseeayoungChinesemanwearingjeansandapoloshirt.“My

nameisSuBinBao,”hesaidinperfectEnglish.“IamanemployeeoftheChinaNationalSpaceAdministration. IwillbeyourguideandtranslatorduringyourstayinthePeople’sRepublicofChina.”“Nicetomeetyou,Mr.Su,”Teddysaid.“I’mTeddySanders,andthisisDr.

VenkatKapoor.”“Weneed sleep,”Venkat said immediately. “Just as soonasweget through

customs,pleasegetustoourhotel.”“Icandobetterthanthat,Dr.Kapoor.”Susmiled.“Youareofficialguestsof

thePeople’sRepublicofChina.Youhavebeenpreauthorizedtobypasscustoms.Icantakeyoutoyourhotelimmediately.”“Iloveyou,”Venkatsaid.“TellthePeople’sRepublicofChinawesaidthanks,”Teddyadded.“I’llpassthatalong.”SuBinsmiled.

•••

“HELENA,MYLOVE,”Vogelsaidtohiswife.“Itrustyouarewell?”

“Yes,”shesaid.“I’mfine.ButIdomissyou.”“Sorry.”“Can’tbehelped.”Sheshrugged.“Howareourmonkeys?”“Thechildrenarefine.”Shesmiled.“Elizahasacrushonanewboyinher

class,andVictorhasbeennamedgoalkeeperforhishighschool’steam.”“Excellent!”Vogelsaid.“IhearyouareatMissionControl.WasNASAunable

topipethesignaltoBremen?”“They could have,” she said. “But it was easier for them to bring me to

Houston.AfreevacationtotheUnitedStates.WhoamItoturnthatdown?”“Wellplayed.Andhowismymother?”“Aswellascanbeexpected,”Helenasaid.“Shehashergooddaysandbad

days. She did not recognizeme onmy last visit. In away, it’s a blessing. Shedoesn’thavetoworryaboutyoulikeIdo.”“Shehasn’tworsened?”heasked.“No,she’saboutthesameaswhenyouleft.Thedoctorsaresureshe’llstillbe

herewhenyoureturn.”“Good,”hesaid.“IwasworriedI’dseenherforthelasttime.”“Alex,”Helenasaid,“willyoubesafe?”“Assafeaswecanbe,”hesaid.“Theship is inperfectcondition,andafter

receiving the Taiyang Shen, we will have all the supplies we need for theremainderofthejourney.”“Becareful.”“Iwill,mylove,”Vogelpromised.

•••

“WELCOMETOJIUQUAN,”GuoMingsaid.“Ihopeyourflightwassmooth?”SuBintranslatedGuoMing’swordsasTeddytookthesecond-bestseatinthe

observation room. He looked through the glass to Jiuquan’s Mission ControlCenter.ItwasremarkablysimilartoHouston’s,thoughTeddycouldn’treadanyoftheChinesetextonthebigscreens.“Yes, thank you,” Teddy said. “The hospitality of your people has been

wonderful.Theprivatejetyouarrangedtobringusherewasanicetouch.”

“Mypeoplehaveenjoyedworkingwithyouradvanceteam,”GuoMingsaid.“The lastmonth has been very interesting. Attaching an American probe to aChinesebooster.Ibelievethisisthefirsttimeit’severbeendone.”“It just goes to show,” Teddy said. “Love of science is universal across all

cultures.”GuoMingnodded.“Mypeoplehaveespeciallycommentedontheworkethic

ofyourman,MitchHenderson.Heisverydedicated.”“He’sapainintheass,”Teddysaid.SuBinpausedbeforetranslatingbutpressedon.GuoMinglaughed.“Youcansaythat,”hesaid.“Icannot.”

•••

“SOEXPLAINitagain,”Beck’ssisterAmysaid.“WhydoyouhavetodoanEVA?”“Iprobablydon’t,”Beckexplained.“Ijustneedtobereadyto.”“Why?”“Incasetheprobecan’tdockwithus.Ifsomethinggoeswrong,it’llbemyjob

togooutandgrabit.”“Can’tyoujustmoveHermestodockwithit?”“Noway,”Beck said. “Hermes ishuge. It’s notmade for finemaneuvering

control.”“Whydoesithavetobeyou?”“’CauseI’mtheEVAspecialist.”“ButIthoughtyouwerethedoctor.”“Iam,”Becksaid.“Everyonehasmultipleroles.I’mthedoctor,thebiologist,

and the EVA specialist. Commander Lewis is our geologist. Johanssen is thesysopandreactortech.Andsoon.”“Howaboutthatgood-lookingguy…Martinez?”Amyasked.“Whatdoeshe

do?”“HepilotstheMDVandMAV,”Becksaid.“He’salsomarriedwithakid,you

lecheroushomewrecker.”“Ahwell.HowaboutWatney?Whatdidhedo?”“He’sourbotanistandengineer.Anddon’ttalkabouthiminthepasttense.”“Engineer?LikeScotty?”

“Kindof,”Becksaid.“Hefixesstuff.”“Ibetthat’scominginhandynow.”“Yeah,noshit.”

•••

THECHINESEhadarrangedasmallconferenceroomfortheAmericanstoworkin.The cramped conditions were luxurious by Jiuquan standards. Venkat wasworking on budget spreadsheetswhenMitch came in, so hewas glad for theinterruption.“They’reaweirdbunch, theseChinesenerds,”Mitchsaid,collapsing intoa

chair.“Buttheymakeagoodbooster.”“Good,”Venkatsaid.“How’sthelinkagebetweentheboosterandourprobe?”“Itallchecksout,”Mitchsaid.“JPLfollowedthespecsperfectly.Itfitslikea

glove.”“Anyconcernsorreservations?”Venkatasked.“Yeah.I’mconcernedaboutwhatIatelastnight.Ithinkithadaneyeballin

it.”“I’msuretherewasn’taneyeball.”“Theengineersheremadeitformespecial,”Mitchsaid.“Theremayhavebeenaneyeball,”Venkatsaid.“Theyhateyou.”“Why?”“’Causeyou’readick,Mitch,”Venkatsaid.“Atotaldick.Toeveryone.”“Fairenough.SolongastheprobegetstoHermes,theycanburnmeineffigy

forallIcare.”

•••

“WAVE TO DADDY!” Marissa said, waving David’s hand at the camera. “Wave toDaddy!”“He’stooyoungtoknowwhat’sgoingon,”Martinezsaid.“Justthinkoftheplaygroundcredhe’llhavelaterinlife,”shesaid.“‘Mydad

wenttoMars.What’syourdaddo?’”

“Yes,I’mprettyawesome,”heagreed.Marissa continued to wave David’s hand at the camera. David was more

interestedinhisotherhand,whichwasactivelyengagedinpickinghisnose.“So,”Martinezsaid,“you’repissed.”“Youcantell?”Marissaasked.“Itriedtohideit.”“We’vebeentogethersincewewerefifteen.Iknowwhenyou’repissed.”“Youvolunteered toextend themission fivehundredand thirty-threedays,”

shesaid,“asshole.”“Yeah,”Martinezsaid.“Ifiguredthat’dbethereason.”“Your son will be in kindergarten when you get back. He won’t have any

memoriesofyou.”“Iknow,”Martinezsaid.“Ihavetowaitanotherfivehundredandthirty-threedaystogetlaid!”“SodoI,”hesaiddefensively.“Ihavetoworryaboutyouthatwholetime,”sheadded.“Yeah,”hesaid.“Sorry.”Shetookadeepbreath.“We’llgetpastit.”“We’llgetpastit,”heagreed.

•••

“WELCOME TOCNN’sMarkWatney Report. Today, we have the director ofMarsoperations,VenkatKapoor.He’sspeakingtousliveviasatellitefromChina.Dr.Kapoor,thankyouforjoiningus.”“Happytodoit,”Venkatsaid.“So,Dr.Kapoor,tellusabouttheTaiyangShen.WhygotoChinatolauncha

probe?WhynotlaunchitfromtheUS?”“Hermes isn’tgoing toorbitEarth,”Venkatsaid.“It’s justpassingbyon its

way toMars.And itsvelocity ishuge.Weneedaboostercapableofnotonlyescaping Earth’s gravity but matching Hermes’s current velocity. Only theTaiyangShenhasenoughpowertodothat.”“Tellusabouttheprobeitself.”“Itwasarushjob,”Venkatsaid.“JPLonlyhadthirtydaystoputittogether.

Theyhad tobeassafeandefficientas theycould. It’sbasicallyashell fullof

food and other supplies. It has a standard satellite thruster package formaneuvering,butthat’sit.”“Andthat’senoughtoflytoHermes?”“TheTaiyangShenwill send it toHermes.The thrustersare for finecontrol

anddocking.AndJPLdidn’thave timetomakeaguidancesystem.So it’llberemote-controlledbyahumanpilot.”“Whowillbecontrollingit?”Cathyasked.“TheAres 3 pilot,MajorRickMartinez.As the probe approachesHermes,

he’lltakeoverandguideittothedockingport.”“Andwhatifthere’saproblem?”“HermeswillhavetheirEVAspecialist,Dr.ChrisBeck,suitedupandready

thewholetime.Ifnecessary,hewillliterallygrabtheprobewithhishandsanddragittothedockingport.”“Soundskindofunscientific.”Cathylaughed.“You want unscientific?” Venkat smiled. “If the probe can’t attach to the

dockingportforsomereason,Beckwillopentheprobeandcarryitscontentstotheairlock.”“Likebringinginthegroceries?”Cathyasked.“Exactly like that,”Venkat said. “Andwe estimate it would take four trips

back and forth.But that’s all an edge case.We don’t anticipate any problemswiththedockingprocess.”“Soundslikeyou’recoveringallyourbases.”Cathysmiled.“Wehaveto,”Venkatsaid.“Iftheydon’tgetthosesupplies…Well,theyneed

thosesupplies.”“Thanksfortakingthetimetoanswerourquestions,”Cathysaid.“Alwaysapleasure,Cathy.”

•••

JOHANSSEN’S FATHER fidgeted in the chair, unsurewhat to say.After amoment, hepulledahandkerchieffromhispocketandmoppedsweatfromhisbaldinghead.“Whatiftheprobedoesn’tgettoyou?”heasked.“Trynottothinkaboutthat,”Johanssensaid.“Yourmotherissoworriedshecouldn’tevencome.”

“I’msorry,”Johanssenmumbled,lookingdown.“Shecan’teat,shecan’tsleep,shefeelssickallthetime.I’mnotmuchbetter.

Howcantheymakeyoudothis?”“They’renot‘making’medoit,Dad.Ivolunteered.”“Whywouldyoudothattoyourmother?”hedemanded.“Sorry,” Johanssen mumbled. “Watney’s my crewmate. I can’t just let him

die.”Hesighed.“Iwishwe’draisedyoutobemoreselfish.”Shechuckledquietly.“HowdidIendupinthissituation?I’mthedistrictsalesmanagerofanapkin

factory.Whyismydaughterinspace?”Johanssenshrugged.“Youwere always scientificallyminded,” he said. “Itwas great! Straight-A

student.Hangingaroundnerdyguystooscaredtotryanything.Nowildsideatall.Youwereeveryfather’sdreamdaughter.”“Thanks,Dad,I—”“ButthenyougotonagiantbombthatblastedyoutoMars.AndImeanthat

literally.”“Technically,”shecorrected,“theboosteronlytookmeintoorbit.Itwasthe

nuclear-poweredionenginethattookmetoMars.”“Oh,muchbetter!”“Dad,I’llbeallright.TellMomI’llbeallright.”“Whatgoodwill thatdo?”hesaid.“She’sgoing tobe tiedup inknotsuntil

you’rebackhome.”“Iknow,”Johanssenmumbled.“But…”“What?Butwhat?”“Iwon’tdie.Ireallywon’t.Evenifeverythinggoeswrong.”“Whatdoyoumean?”Johanssenfurrowedherbrow.“JusttellMomIwon’tdie.”“How?Idon’tunderstand.”“Idon’twanttogetintothehow,”Johanssensaid.“Look,” he said, leaning toward the camera, “I’ve always respected your

privacy and independence. I never tried to pry into your life, never tried tocontrolyou.I’vebeenreallygoodaboutthat,right?”

“Yeah.”“Soinexchangeforalifetimeofstayingoutofyourbusiness,letmenosein

justthisonce.Whatareyounottellingme?”Shefellsilentforseveralseconds.Finally,shesaid,“Theyhaveaplan.”“Who?”“Theyalwayshaveaplan,”shesaid.“Theyworkouteverythinginadvance.”“Whatplan?”“Theypickedmetosurvive.I’myoungest.Ihavetheskillsnecessarytoget

homealive.AndI’mthesmallestandneedtheleastfood.”“Whathappensiftheprobefails,Beth?”herfatherasked.“Everyonewoulddiebutme,”shesaid.“They’dalltakepillsanddie.They’ll

doitrightawaysotheydon’tuseupanyfood.CommanderLewispickedmetobethesurvivor.Shetoldmeaboutityesterday.Idon’tthinkNASAknowsaboutit.”“AndthesupplieswouldlastuntilyougotbacktoEarth?”“No,”shesaid.“Wehaveenoughfoodlefttofeedsixpeopleforamonth.IfI

wastheonlyone,itwouldlastsixmonths.WithareduceddietIcouldstretchittonine.Butit’llbeseventeenmonthsbeforeIgetback.”“Sohowwouldyousurvive?”“Thesupplieswouldn’tbetheonlysourceoffood,”shesaid.Hewidenedhiseyes.“Oh…ohmygod…”“JusttellMomthesupplieswouldlast,okay?”

•••

AMERICANANDChineseengineerscheeredtogetheratJiuquanMissionControl.Themain screen showedTaiyangShen’s contrailwafting in the chillyGobi

sky.Theship,nolongervisibletothenakedeye,pressedonwardtowardorbit.Itsdeafeningroardwindledtoadistantrumblingthunder.“Perfectlaunch,”Venkatexclaimed.“Ofcourse,”saidZhuTao.“Youguysreallycamethroughforus,”Venkatsaid.“Andwe’regrateful!”“Naturally.”“Andhey,youguysgetaseatonAres5.Everyonewins.”

“Mmm.”VenkatlookedatZhuTaosideways.“Youdon’tseemtoohappy.”“IspentfouryearsworkingonTaiyangShen,”hesaid.“Sodidcountlessother

researchers, scientists, and engineers. Everyone poured their souls intoconstructionwhileIwagedaconstantpoliticalbattletomaintainfunding.“Intheend,webuiltabeautifulprobe.Thelargest,sturdiestunmannedprobe

inhistory.Andnowit’ssittinginawarehouse.It’llneverfly.TheStateCouncilwon’tfundanotherboosterlikethat.”He turned to Venkat. “It could have been a lasting legacy of scientific

research.Now it’s a delivery run.We’ll get aChinese astronaut onMars, butwhat sciencewillhebringback that someotherastronautcouldn’thave?Thisoperationisanetlossformankind’sknowledge.”“Well,”Venkatsaidcautiously,“it’sanetgainforMarkWatney.”“Mmm,”ZhuTaosaid.

•••

“DISTANCE61meters,velocity2.3meterspersecond,”Johanssensaid.“Noproblem,”Martinezsaid,hiseyesgluedtohisscreens.Oneshowedthe

camera feed from Docking Port A, the other a constant feed of the probe’stelemetry.LewisfloatedbehindJohanssen’sandMartinez’sstations.Beck’svoicecameovertheradio.“Visualcontact.”HestoodinAirlock3(via

magnetic boots), fully suited upwith the outer door open. The bulky SAFERunitonhisbackwouldallowhimfreemotioninspaceshouldtheneedarise.Anattachedtetherledtoaspoolonthewall.“Vogel,”Lewissaidintoherheadset.“Youinposition?”Vogelstoodinthestill-pressurizedAirlock2,suitedupsavehishelmet.“Ja,

inpositionandready,”hereplied.Hewas theemergencyEVAifBeckneededrescue.“Allright,Martinez,”Lewissaid.“Bringitin.”“Aye,Commander.”“Distance43meters,velocity2.3meterspersecond,”Johanssencalledout.“Allstatsnominal,”Martinezreported.“Slightrotationintheprobe,”Johanssensaid.“Relativerotationalvelocityis

0.05revolutionspersecond.”“Anything under 0.3 is fine,”Martinez said. “The capture system can deal

withit.”“Probeiswellwithinmanualrecoveryrange,”Beckreported.“Copy,”Lewissaid.“Distance22meters,velocity2.3meterspersecond,”Johanssensaid.“Angle

isgood.”“Slowingherdownalittle,”Martinezsaid,sendinginstructionstotheprobe.“Velocity 1.8…1.3…,” Johanssen reported. “0.9…stable at 0.9 meters per

second.”“Range?”Martinezasked.“Twelve meters,” Johanssen replied. “Velocity steady at 0.9 meters per

second.”“Angle?”“Angleisgood.”“Thenwe’reinlineforauto-capture,”Martinezsaid.“CometoPapa.”Theprobedriftedgently to thedockingport. Itscaptureboom,a longmetal

triangle, entered the port’s funnel, scraping slightly along the edge. Once itreachedtheport’sretractormechanism,theautomatedsystemclampedontotheboom and pulled it in, aligning and orienting the probe automatically. Afterseveralloudclanksechoedthroughtheship,thecomputerreportedsuccess.“Dockingcomplete,”Martinezsaid.“Sealistight,”Johanssensaid.“Beck,”Lewissaid,“yourserviceswon’tbeneeded.”“Rogerthat,Commander,”Becksaid.“Closingairlock.”“Vogel,returntointerior,”sheordered.“Copy,Commander,”hesaid.“Airlockpressure toonehundredpercent,”Beckreported.“Reenteringship.

…I’mbackin.”“Alsoinside,”Vogelsaid.Lewispressedabuttononherheadset.“Houst—er…Jiuquan,probedocking

complete.Nocomplications.”Mitch’svoicecameoverthecomm.“Gladtohearit,Hermes.Reportstatusof

allsuppliesonceyougetthemaboardandinspected.”“Roger,Jiuquan,”Lewissaid.

Taking off her headset, she turned toMartinez and Johanssen. “Unload theprobeandstowthesupplies.I’mgoingtohelpBeckandVogelde-suit.”MartinezandJohanssenfloateddownthehalltowardDockingPortA.“So,”hesaid,“whowouldyouhaveeatenfirst?”Sheglaredathim.“’CauseIthinkI’dbetastiest,”hecontinued,flexinghisarm.“Lookatthat.

Goodsolidmusclethere.”“You’renotfunny.”“I’mfree-range,youknow.Corn-fed.”Sheshookherheadandaccelerateddownthehall.“Comeon!IthoughtyoulikedMexican!”“Notlistening,”shecalledback.

CHAPTER20

LOGENTRY:SOL376

I’mfinallydonewiththerovermodifications!Thetrickypartwasfiguringouthowtomaintainlifesupport.Everythingelse

wasjustwork.Alotofwork.Ihaven’tbeengoodatkeepingtheloguptodate,sohere’sarecap:FirstIhadtofinishdrillingholeswiththePathfinder-murderin’drill.ThenI

chiseledoutabillionlittlechunksbetweentheholes.Okay,itwas759butitfeltlikeabillion.Then I had one big hole in the trailer. I filed down the edges to keep them

frombeingtoosharp.Remember the pop-tents? I cut the bottom out of one and the remaining

canvaswastherightsizeandshape.Iusedseal-stripstoattachittotheinsideofthetrailer.AfterpressurizingandsealingupleaksasIfoundthem,Ihadanicebigballoonbulgingoutofthetrailer.Thepressurizedareaiseasilybigenoughtofittheoxygenatorandatmosphericregulator.One hitch: I need to put the AREC outside. The imaginatively named

“atmospheric regulator external component” is how the regulator freeze-separates air.Why sink a bunch of energy into freezing stuff when you haveincrediblycoldtemperaturesrightoutside?TheregulatorpumpsairtotheARECtoletMarsfreezeit.Itdoesthisalonga

tube that runs through a valve in the Hab’s wall. The return air comes backthroughanothertubejustlikeit.Gettingthetubingthroughtheballooncanvaswasn’ttoohard.Ihaveseveral

spare valve patches. Basically they’re ten-by-ten-centimeter patches of Habcanvaswithavalveinthemiddle.WhydoIhavethese?Considerwhatwouldhappenonanormalmissioniftheregulatorvalvebroke.They’dhavetoscrubthewholemission.Easiertosendspares.The AREC is fairly small. I made a shelf for it just under the solar panel

shelves.Noweverything’s readyforwhenIeventuallymove theregulatorandARECover.There’sstillalottodo.I’mnot in any hurry; I’ve been taking it slow.One four-hourEVAper day

spentonwork,therestofthetimetorelaxintheHab.Plus,I’ll takeadayoffeverynowandthen,especiallyifmybackhurts.Ican’taffordtoinjuremyselfnow.

I’ll try to be better about this log. Now that I might actually get rescued,peoplewillprobablyreadit.I’llbemorediligentandlogeveryday.

LOGENTRY:SOL380

Ifinishedtheheatreservoir.Remember my experiments with the RTG and having a hot bath? Same

principle,butIcameupwithanimprovement:submergetheRTG.Noheatwillbewastedthatway.Istartedwitha largerigidsamplecontainer(or“plasticbox” topeoplewho

don’twork atNASA). I ran a tube through the open top and down the insidewall.ThenIcoileditinthebottomtomakeaspiral.Iglueditinplacelikethatandsealedtheend.Usingmysmallestdrillbit,Iputdozensoflittleholesinthecoil.Theideaisforthefreezingreturnairfromtheregulatortopassthroughthewaterasabunchof littlebubbles.The increasedsurfaceareawillget theheatintotheairbetter.ThenIgotamediumflexiblesamplecontainer(“Ziplocbag”)andtriedtoseal

theRTGinit.ButtheRTGhasanirregularshape,andIcouldn’tgetalltheairoutofthebag.Ican’tallowanyairinthere.Insteadofheatgoingtothewater,somewouldgetstoredintheair,whichcouldsuperheatandmeltthebag.Itriedabunchoftimes,buttherewasalwaysanairpocketIcouldn’tgetout.

IwasgettingprettyfrustrateduntilIrememberedIhaveanairlock.Suitingup,IwenttoAirlock2anddepressurizedtoafullvacuum.Iplopped

theRTGinthebagandclosedit.Perfectvacuumseal.Nextcamesometesting.IputthebaggedRTGatthebottomofthecontainer

andfilleditwithwater.Itholdstwentyliters,andtheRTGquicklyheatedit.Itwas gaining a degree perminute. I let it go until itwas a good 40°C.Then Ihooked up the regulator’s return air line to my contraption and watched theresults.Itworkedgreat!Theairbubbledthrough,justlikeI’dhoped.Evenbetter,the

bubblesagitatedthewater,whichdistributedtheheatevenly.Iletitrunforanhour,andtheHabstartedtogetcold.TheRTG’sheatcan’t

keep up with the total loss from the Hab’s impressive surface area. Not aproblem.I’vealreadyestablishedit’splentytokeeptheroverwarm.Ireattachedthereturnairlinetotheregulatorandthingsgotbacktonormal.

LOGENTRY:SOL381

I’vebeenthinkingaboutlawsonMars.Yeah,Iknow,it’sastupidthingtothinkabout,butIhavealotoffreetime.There’s an international treaty saying no country can lay claim to anything

that’snotonEarth.Andbyanothertreaty,ifyou’renotinanycountry’sterritory,maritimelawapplies.SoMarsis“internationalwaters.”NASA is an American nonmilitary organization, and it owns the Hab. So

while I’m in theHab,American lawapplies.Assoonas I stepoutside, I’m ininternationalwaters.ThenwhenIgetintherover,I’mbacktoAmericanlaw.Here’sthecoolpart:IwilleventuallygotoSchiaparelliandcommandeerthe

Ares4lander.Nobodyexplicitlygavemepermissiontodothis,andtheycan’tuntilI’maboardAres4andoperatingthecommsystem.AfterIboardAres4,before talking to NASA, I will take control of a craft in international waterswithoutpermission.Thatmakesmeapirate!Aspacepirate!

LOGENTRY:SOL383

Youmay bewonderingwhat else I dowithmy free time. I spend a lot of itsittingaroundonmylazyasswatchingTV.Butsodoyou,sodon’tjudge.Also,Iplanmytrip.Pathfinderwasacakerun.Flat, levelgroundall theway.Theonlyproblem

was navigating. But the trip to Schiaparelli will mean going over massiveelevationchanges.Ihavearoughsatellitemapofthewholeplanet.Itdoesn’thavemuchdetail,

but I’m lucky to have it at all. NASA didn’t expect me to wander 3200kilometersfromtheHab.Acidalia Planitia (where I am) has a relatively low elevation. So does

Schiaparelli.Butbetweenthemitgoesupanddownby10kilometers.There’sgoingtobealotofdangerousdriving.Things will be smooth while I’m in Acidalia, but that’s only the first 650

kilometers.Afterthatcomesthecrater-riddledterrainofArabiaTerra.Idohaveonethinggoingforme.AndIswearit’sagiftfromGod.Forsome

geologicalreason,there’savalleycalledMawrthVallisthat’sperfectlyplaced.Millionsofyearsagoitwasariver.Nowit’savalleythatjutsintothebrutal

terrainofArabia, almostdirectly towardSchiaparelli. It’smuchgentler terrainthantherestofArabiaTerra,andthefarendlookslikeasmoothascentoutofthevalley.Between Acidalia and Mawrth Vallis I’ll get 1350 kilometers of relatively

easyterrain.The other 1850 kilometers…well, that won’t be so nice. Especiallywhen I

havetodescendintoSchiaparelliitself.Ugh.Anyway.MawrthVallis.Awesome.

LOGENTRY:SOL385

TheworstpartofthePathfindertripwasbeingtrappedintherover.Ihadtoliveinacrampedenvironmentthatwasfullofjunkandreekedofbodyodor.Sameasmycollegedays.Rimshot!Seriouslythough,itsucked.Itwastwenty-twosolsofabjectmisery.I plan to leave for Schiaparelli 100 sols beforemy rescue (or death), and I

sweartoGodI’llripmyownfaceoffifIhavetoliveintheroverforthatlong.IneedaplacetostaywhereIcanstandupandtakeafewstepswithouthitting

things. And no, being outside in a goddamn EVA suit doesn’t count. I needpersonalspace,not50kilogramsofclothing.So today, Istartedmakinga tent.SomewhereIcanrelaxwhile thebatteries

recharge;somewhereIcanliedowncomfortablywhilesleeping.Irecentlysacrificedoneofmytwopop-tentstobethetrailerballoon,butthe

otherisinperfectshape.Evenbetter,ithasanattachmentfortherover’sairlock.BeforeImadeitapotatofarm,itsoriginalpurposewastobealifeboatfortherover.Icouldattachthepop-tenttoeithervehicle’sairlock.I’mgoingwiththerover

insteadofthetrailer.Theroverhasthecomputerandcontrols.IfIneedtoknowthestatusofanything(likelifesupportorhowwellthebatteryischarging),I’llneedaccess.Thisway,I’llbeabletowalkrightin.NoEVA.Also, while traveling, I’ll keep the tent folded up in the rover. In an

emergency,Icangettoitfast.Thepop-tentisthebasisofmy“bedroom,”butnotthewholething.Thetent’s

not very big; not much more space than the rover. But it has the airlockattachmentsoit’sagreatplacetostart.Myplanistodoublethefloorareaanddoubletheheight.That’llgivemeanicebigspacetorelaxin.Forthefloor,I’llusetheoriginalflooringmaterialfromthetwopop-tents.IfI

didn’t,my bedroomwould become a big hamster ball becauseHab canvas isflexible.Whenyoufillitwithpressure,itwantstobecomeasphere.That’snotausefulshape.To combat this, the Hab and pop-tents have special flooring material. It

unfoldsasabunchoflittlesegmentsthatwon’topenbeyond180degrees,soitremainsflat.The pop-tent base is a hexagon. I have another base left over fromwhat is

nowthetrailerballoon.WhenI’mdone,thebedroomwillbetwoadjacenthexeswithwallsaroundthemandacrudeceiling.It’sgonnatakealotofgluetomakethishappen.

LOGENTRY:SOL387

Thepop-tentis1.2meterstall.It’snotmadeforcomfort.It’smadeforastronautstocowerinwhiletheircrewmatesrescuethem.Iwanttwometers.Iwanttobeabletostand!Idon’tthinkthat’stoomuchtoask.On paper, it’s not hard to do. I just need to cut canvas pieces to the right

shapes,sealthemtogether,thensealthemtotheexistingcanvasandflooring.Butthat’salotofcanvas.IstartedthismissionwithsixsquaremetersandI’ve

usedupmostofthat.MostlyonsealingthebreachfromwhentheHabblewup.GoddamnAirlock1.Anyway,mybedroomwill take 30 squaremeters of the stuff.Way the hell

morethanIhaveleft.Fortunately,IhaveanalternatesupplyofHabcanvas:theHab.Problemis(followmecloselyhere,thescienceisprettycomplicated),ifIcut

aholeintheHab,theairwon’tstayinsideanymore.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’llneed. Ineed tonot fuck thisup, so I triple-checkedeverything. Ievenmadeamodeloutofpaper.The Hab is a dome. If I take canvas from near the floor, I can pull the

remainingcanvasdownandresealit.TheHabwillbecomealopsideddome,butthatshouldn’tmatter.Aslongasitholdspressure.Ionlyneedittolastanothersixty-twosols.I drew the shapes on thewallwith a Sharpie. Then I spent a long time re-

measuringthemandmakingsure,overandover,thattheywereright.ThatwasallIdidtoday.Mightnotseemlikemuch,butthemathanddesign

worktookallday.Nowit’stimefordinner.I’ve been eating potatoes for weeks. Theoretically, with my three-quarter

rationplan,Ishouldstillbeeatingfoodpacks.Butthree-quarterrationishardtomaintain,sonowI’meatingpotatoes.Ihaveenoughtolasttilllaunch,soIwon’tstarve.ButI’mprettydamnsickof

potatoes.Also,theyhavealotoffiber,so…let’sjustsayit’sgoodI’mtheonlyguyonthisplanet.Isavedfivemealpacksforspecialoccasions.Iwrotetheirnamesoneachone.

Igettoeat“Departure”thedayIleaveforSchiaparelli.I’lleat“Halfway”whenIreachthe1600-kilometermark,and“Arrival”whenIgetthere.

Thefourthoneis“SurvivedSomethingThatShouldHaveKilledMe”becausesomefucking thingwillhappen, I justknowit. Idon’tknowwhat it’llbe,butit’ll happen. The rover will break down, or I’ll come down with fatalhemorrhoids,orI’llrunintohostileMartians,orsomeshit.WhenIdo(ifIlive),Igettoeatthatmealpack.ThefifthoneisreservedforthedayIlaunch.It’slabeled“LastMeal.”Maybethat’snotsuchagoodname.

LOGENTRY:SOL388

I started the day with a potato. I washed it down with someMartian coffee.That’smynamefor“hotwaterwithacaffeinepilldissolvedinit.”Iranoutofrealcoffeemonthsago.MyfirstorderofbusinesswasacarefulinventoryoftheHab.Ineededtoroot

out anything thatwould have a problemwith losing atmospheric pressure.Ofcourse, everything in the Hab had a crash course in depressurization a fewmonthsback.Butthistimewouldbecontrolled,andImightaswelldoitright.Themainthingisthewater.Ilost300literstosublimationwhentheHabblew

up.Thistime,thatwon’thappen.Idrainedthewaterreclaimerandsealedallthetanks.The rest was just collecting knickknacks and dumping them in Airlock 3.

AnythingIcould thinkof thatdoesn’tdowell inanear-vacuum.All thepens,vitamin bottles (probably not necessary but I’m not taking chances), medicalsupplies,etc.Then I did a controlled shutdown of the Hab. The critical components are

designedtosurviveavacuum.HabdepressisoneofthemanyscenariosNASAaccountedfor.Onesystematatime,Icleanlyshutthemalldown,endingwiththemaincomputeritself.I suited up and depressurized theHab. Last time, the canvas collapsed and

madeamessofeverything.That’snotsupposedtohappen.ThedomeoftheHabis mostly supported by air pressure, but there are flexible reinforcing polesacrosstheinsidetoholdupthecanvas.It’showtheHabwasassembledinthefirstplace.I watched as the canvas gently settled onto the poles. To confirm the

depressurization, I opened both doors of Airlock 2. I left Airlock 3 alone. Itmaintainedpressureforitscargoofrandomcrap.ThenIcutshitup!I’mnotamaterialsengineer;mydesignforthebedroomisn’telegant.It’sjust

asix-meterperimeterandaceiling.No, itwon’thaverightanglesandcorners(pressurevesselsdon’tlikethose).It’llballoonouttoamoreroundshape.Anyway,itmeansIonlyneededtocuttwobig-assstripsofcanvas.Onefor

thewallsandonefortheceiling.Aftermangling theHab, Ipulled theremainingcanvasdownto theflooring

andresealedit.Eversetupacampingtent?Fromtheinside?Whilewearinga

suitofarmor?Itwasapainintheass.I repressurized to one-twentieth of an atmosphere to see if it could hold

pressure.Hahaha!Ofcourseitcouldn’t!Leaksgalore.Timetofindthem.OnEarth, tiny particles get attached towater orwear down to nothing.On

Mars,theyjusthangaround.Thetoplayerofsandisliketalcumpowder.Iwentoutsidewithabagandscrapedalong thesurface. Igotsomenormalsand,butplentyofpowder,too.IhadtheHabmaintaintheone-twentiethatmosphere,backfillingasairleaked

out.ThenI“puffed” thebag toget thesmallestparticles tofloataround.Theywerequicklydrawntowheretheleakswere.AsIfoundeachleak,Ispot-sealeditwithresin.It tookhours,but I finallygotagoodseal. I’ll tellya, theHab lookspretty

“ghetto” now. Onewhole side of it is lower than the rest. I’ll have to hunchdownwhenI’moverthere.Ipressurizedtoafullatmosphereandwaitedanhour.Noleaks.It’sbeenalong,physicallytaxingday.I’mtotallyexhaustedbutIcan’tsleep.

Every sound scares the shit outofme. Is that theHabpopping?No?Okay.…Whatwasthat!?Oh,nothing?Okay.…It’saterriblethingtohavemylifedependonmyhalf-assedhandiwork.Timetogetasleepingpillfromthemedicalsupplies.

LOGENTRY:SOL389

Whatthehellisinthosesleepingpills!?It’sthemiddleoftheday.AftertwocupsofMartiancoffee,Iwokeupalittle.Iwon’tbetakinganother

oneofthosepills.It’snotlikeIhavetogotoworkinthemorning.Anyway, as you can tell from how not dead I am, the Hab stayed sealed

overnight.Thesealissolid.Uglyashell,butsolid.Today’staskwasthebedroom.AssemblingthebedroomwaswayeasierthanresealingtheHab.Becausethis

time,Ididn’thavetowearanEVAsuit.ImadethewholethinginsidetheHab.Whynot? It’s just canvas. I can roll it upand take itout anairlockwhen I’mdone.First, I did some surgery on the remaining pop-tent. I needed to keep the

rover–airlockconnectorandsurroundingcanvas.The restof thecanvashad togo. Why hack off most of the canvas only to replace it with more canvas?Seams.NASAisgoodatmakingthings.Iamnot.Thedangerouspartofthisstructure

won’tbethecanvas.It’llbetheseams.AndIgetlesstotalseamlengthbynottryingtousetheexistingpop-tentcanvas.Afterhackingawaymostof the remaining tent, I seal-stripped the twopop-

tentfloorstogether.ThenIsealedthenewcanvaspiecesintoplace.ItwassomucheasierwithouttheEVAsuiton.Somucheasier!ThenIhadtotestit.Again,IdiditintheHab.IbroughtanEVAsuitintothe

tent withme and closed themini-airlock door. Then I fired up the EVA suit,leavingthehelmetoff.Itoldittobumpthepressureupto1.2atm.Ittookalittlewhiletobringituptopar,andIhadtodisablesomealarmson

thesuit.(“Hey,I’mprettysurethehelmet’snoton!”).ItdepletedmostoftheN2

tankbutwasfinallyabletobringupthepressure.Then I sat aroundandwaited. Ibreathed; the suit regulated theair.Allwas

well. Iwatchedthesuit readoutscarefully tosee if ithadtoreplaceany“lost”air.Afteranhourwithnonoticeablechange,Ideclaredthefirsttestasuccess.Irolledupthewholething(waddedup,really)andtookitouttotherover.You know, I suit up a lot these days. I bet that’s another record I hold. A

typicalMartianastronautdoes,what,fortyEVAs?I’vedoneseveralhundred.OnceIbroughtthebedroomtotherover,Iattachedittotheairlockfromthe

inside.ThenIpulledthereleasetoletitloose.IwasstillwearingmyEVAsuit,becauseI’mnotanidiot.Thebedroomfiredoutandfilledinthreeseconds.Theopenairlockhatchway

leddirectlytoit,anditappearedtobeholdingpressure.Just likebefore,I let itsitforanhour.Andjust likebefore, itworkedgreat.

Unlike the Hab canvas resealing, I got this one right on the first try.MostlybecauseIdidn’thavetodoitwithadamnEVAsuiton.Originally, Iplanned to letmybedroomsitovernightandcheckon it in the

morning.ButIranintoaproblem:Ican’tgetoutifIdothat.Theroverhasonlyoneairlock,andthebedroomwasattachedtoit.Therewasnowayformetogetout without detaching the bedroom, and no way to attach and pressurize thebedroomwithoutbeinginsidetherover.It’salittlescary.ThefirsttimeItestthethingovernightwillbewithmeinit.

Butthat’llbelater.I’vedoneenoughtoday.

LOGENTRY:SOL390

Ihave to facefacts. I’mdoneprepping therover. Idon’t“feel” likeI’mdone.Butit’sreadytogo:

Food:1692potatoes.Vitaminpills.Water:620liters.Shelter:Rover,trailer,bedroom.Air:Roverandtrailercombinedstorage:14litersliquidO2,14litersliquidN2.LifeSupport:Oxygenatorandatmosphericregulator.418hoursofuse-and-discardCO2filtersforemergencies.Power:36kilowatt-hoursofstorage.Carryingcapacityfor29solarcells.Heat:1400-wattRTG.Homemadereservoirtoheatregulator’sreturnair.Electricheaterinroverasabackup.Disco:Lifetimesupply.

I’mleavinghereonSol449.Thatgivesmefifty-ninesolstotesteverythingand fixwhatever isn’tworking right.Thendecidewhat’scomingwithmeandwhat’s stayingbehind.Andplot a route toSchiaparelli usingagrainy satellitemap.AndrackmybrainstryingtothinkofanythingimportantIforgot.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 someencouragement.Ineedtoaskmyself,“WhatwouldanApolloastronautdo?”He’ddrinkthreewhiskeysours,drivehisCorvettetothelaunchpad,thenfly

tothemooninacommandmodulesmallerthanmyRover.Manthoseguyswerecool.

CHAPTER21

LOGENTRY:SOL431

I’mworkingouthowtopack.It’sharderthanitsounds.I have twopressurevessels: the rover and the trailer.They’re connectedby

hoses,butthey’realsonotstupid.Ifonelosespressure,theotherwill instantlysealoffthesharedlines.There’s a grim logic to this: If the rover breaches, I’m dead. No point in

planningaroundthat.Butifthetrailerbreaches,I’llbefine.ThatmeansIshouldputeverythingimportantintherover.Everythingthatgoesinthetrailerhastobecomfortableinnear-vacuumand

freezing temperatures. Not that I anticipate that, but you know. Plan for theworst.The saddlebags Imade for thePathfinder tripwill come in handy for food

storage.Ican’tjuststorepotatoesintheroverortrailer.They’drotinthewarm,pressurizedenvironment.I’llkeepsomeintheroverforeasyaccess,buttherestwillbeoutsideinthegiantfreezerthatisthisplanet.Thetrailerwillbepackedpretty tight. It’ll have two bulkyHab batteries, the atmospheric regulator, theoxygenator, andmyhomemadeheat reservoir. Itwouldbemoreconvenient tohave the reservoir in the rover, but it has to be near the regulator’s return airfeed.Theroverwillbeprettypacked,too.WhenI’mdriving,I’llkeepthebedroom

foldedupnear theairlock, readyforemergencyegress.Also, I’llhave the twofunctional EVA suits in therewithme and anything thatmight be needed foremergencyrepairs: toolkits, spareparts,mynearlydepletedsupplyofsealant,the other rover’s main computer (just in case!), and all 620 glorious liters ofwater.Andaplasticboxtoserveasatoilet.Onewithagoodlid.

•••

“HOW’SWATNEYdoing?”Venkatasked.Mindylookedupfromhercomputerwithastart.“Dr.Kapoor?”“IhearyoucaughtapicofhimduringanEVA?”“Uh, yeah,” Mindy said, typing on her keyboard. “I noticed things would

alwayschangearound9a.m.localtime.Peopleusuallykeepthesamepatterns,

soIfiguredhelikestostartworkaroundthen.Ididsomeminorrealignmenttogetseventeenpicsbetween9and9:10.Heshowedupinoneofthem.”“Goodthinking.CanIseethepic?”“Sure.”Shebroughtuptheimageonherscreen.Venkatpeeredattheblurryimage.“Isthisasgoodasitgets?”“Well, it is aphoto taken fromorbit,”Mindy said. “TheNSAenhanced the

imagewiththebestsoftwaretheyhave.”“Wait,what?”Venkatstammered.“TheNSA?”“Yeah, they called and offered to help out. Same software they use for

enhancingspysatelliteimagery.”Venkatshrugged.“It’samazinghowmuchredtapegetscutwheneveryone’s

rootingforonemantosurvive.”Hepointedtothescreen.“What’sWatneydoinghere?”“Ithinkhe’sloadingsomethingintotherover.”“Whenwasthelasttimeheworkedonthetrailer?”Venkatasked.“Notforawhile.Whydoesn’thewriteusnotesmoreoften?”Venkat shrugged. “He’s busy. He works most of the daylight hours, and

arrangingrockstospellamessagetakestimeandenergy.”“So…,”Mindysaid.“Why’dyoucomehereinperson?Wecouldhavedone

allthisovere-mail.”“Actually, I came to talk toyou,”he said.“There’sgoing tobeachange in

your responsibilities. From now on, instead ofmanaging the satellites aroundMars,yoursoleresponsibilityiswatchingMarkWatney.”“What?”Mindysaid.“Whataboutcoursecorrectionsandalignment?”“We’ll assign that to other people,”Venkat said. “From now on, your only

focusisexaminingimageryofAres3.”“That’sademotion,”Mindysaid.“I’manorbitalengineer,andyou’returning

meintoaglorifiedPeepingTom.”“It’sshort-term,”Venkatsaid.“Andwe’llmakeituptoyou.Thingis,you’ve

beendoingitformonths,andyou’reanexpertatidentifyingelementsofAres3fromsatellitepics.Wedon’thaveanyoneelsewhocandothat.”“Whyisthissuddenlysoimportant?”“He’srunningoutoftime,”Venkatsaid.“Wedon’tknowhowfaralongheis

on the rovermodifications.Butwe do know he’s only got sixteen sols to getthemdone.Weneedtoknowexactlywhathe’sdoing.I’vegotmediaoutletsand

senatorsaskingforhisstatusallthetime.ThePresidentevencalledmeacoupleoftimes.”“But seeing his status doesn’t help,” Mindy said. “It’s not like we can do

anythingaboutitifhefallsbehind.Thisisapointlesstask.”“Howlonghaveyouworkedforthegovernment?”Venkatsighed.

LOGENTRY:SOL434

Thetimehascometotestthisbabyout.Thispresentsaproblem.UnlikeonmyPathfindertrip,Ihavetotakevitallife

supportelementsoutoftheHabifI’mgoingtodoarealdryrun.Whenyoutakethe atmospheric regulator and oxygenator out of theHab, you’re leftwith…atent.Abigroundtentthatcan’tsupportlife.It’snotasriskyasitseems.Asalways,thedangerouspartaboutlifesupportis

managingcarbondioxide.Whentheairgetsto1percentCO2,youstartgettingsymptomsofpoisoning.SoIneedtokeeptheHab’smixbelowthat.The Hab’s internal volume is about 120,000 liters. Breathing normally, it

would take me over two days to bring the CO2 level up to 1 percent (and Iwouldn’tevenputadentintheO2level).Soit’ssafetomovetheregulatorandoxygenatoroverforawhile.Both are way too big to fit through the trailer airlock. Lucky forme, they

cametoMarswith“someassemblyrequired.”Theyweretoobigtosendwhole,sothey’reeasytodismantle.Over several trips, Imovedall of their chunks to the trailer. I brought each

chunkinthroughtheairlock,oneatatime.Itwasapainintheassreassemblingthem inside, let me tell you. There’s barely enough room for all the shit thetrailer’sgottohold.Therewasn’tmuchleftforourintrepidhero.ThenIgottheAREC.ItsatoutsidetheHablikeanACunitmightonEarth.

Inaway,that’swhatitis.IhauleditovertothetrailerandlashedittotheshelfI’d made for it. Then I hooked it up to the feed lines that led through the“balloon”totheinsideofthetrailer’spressurevessel.The regulator needs to send air to the AREC, then the return air needs to

bubble through the heat reservoir. The regulator also needs a pressure tank tocontaintheCO2itpullsfromtheair.Whengutting the trailer tomake room, I leftone tank inplace for this. It’s

supposed toholdoxygen, but a tank’s a tank.ThankGodall the air lines andvalvesarestandardizedacrossthemission.That’snomistake.Itwasadeliberatedecisiontomakefieldrepairseasier.OnceIhadtheARECinplace,Ihookedtheoxygenatorandregulatorintothe

trailer’spowerandwatchedthempowerup.Iranboththroughfulldiagnosticsto confirm they were working correctly. Then I shut down the oxygenator.Remember,I’llonlyuseitonesoloutofeveryfive.

Imoved to the rover,whichmeant Ihad todoanannoying ten-meterEVA.Fromthere,Imonitoredthelifesupportsituation.It’sworthnotingthatIcan’tmonitortheactualsupportequipmentfromtherover(it’sall inthetrailer),buttherovercantellmeallabouttheair.Oxygen,CO2,temperature,humidity,etc.Everythingseemedokay.After getting back into the EVA suit, I released a canister of CO2 into the

rover’s air. Iwatched the rover computer have a shit fitwhen it saw theCO2

spike to lethal levels. Then, over time, the levels dropped to normal. Theregulatorwasdoingitsjob.Goodboy!IlefttheequipmentrunningwhenIreturnedtotheHab.It’llbeonitsownall

nightandI’llcheckitinthemorning.It’snotatruetest,becauseI’mnottheretobreatheuptheoxygenandmakeCO2,butonestepatatime.

LOGENTRY:SOL435

Lastnightwasweird.Iknewlogicallythatnothingbadwouldhappeninjustonenight, but it was a little unnerving to know I had no life support other thanheaters.MylifedependedonsomemathI’ddoneearlier.IfIdroppedasignoraddedtwonumberswrong,Imightneverwakeup.ButIdidwakeup,andthemaincomputershowedtheslightriseinCO2Ihad

predicted.LookslikeI’llliveanothersol.LiveAnotherSolwouldbeanawesomenameforaJamesBondmovie.I checked up on the rover.Everythingwas fine. If I don’t drive it, a single

chargeofthebatteriescouldkeeptheregulatorgoingforoveramonth(withtheheateroff).It’saprettygoodsafetymargintohave.Ifallhellbreakslooseonmytrip, I’ll have time to fix things. I’ll be limited by oxygen consumption ratherthanCO2removal,andIhaveplentyofoxygen.Idecideditwasagoodtimetotestthebedroom.Igotintheroverandattachedthebedroomtotheouterairlockdoorfromthe

inside.Like Imentionedbefore, this is theonlyway todo it.Then I turned itlooseonanunsuspectingMars.As intended, the pressure from the rover blasted the canvas outward and

inflated it. After that, chaos. The sudden pressure popped the bedroom like aballoon.Itquicklydeflated,leavingbothitselfandtheroverdevoidofair.IwaswearingmyEVAsuitatthetime;I’mnotafuckingidiot.SoIgetto…Live Another Sol! (Starring Mark Watney as…probably Q. I’m no James

Bond.)IdraggedthepoppedbedroomintotheHabandgaveitagoodgoing-over.It

failedattheseamwherethewallmettheceiling.Makessense.It’sarightangleinapressurevessel.Physicshatesthatsortofthing.First,Ipatcheditup,thenIcutstripsofsparecanvastoplaceovertheseam.

Nowithasdouble-thicknessanddoublesealingresinallaround.Maybethat’llbeenough.Atthispoint,I’mkindofguessing.Myamazingbotanyskillsaren’tmuchuseforthis.I’lltestitagaintomorrow.

LOGENTRY:SOL436

I’moutofcaffeinepills.NomoreMartiancoffeeforme.So it took a little longer for me to wake up this morning, and I quickly

developed a splitting headache. One nice thing about living in amultibillion-dollar mansion on Mars: access to pure oxygen. For some reason, a highconcentrationofO2willkillmostheadaches.Don’tknowwhy.Don’tcare.TheimportantthingisIdon’thavetosuffer.I tested out the bedroom again. I suited up in the rover and released the

bedroom,sameaslasttime.Butthistimeitheld.That’sgreat,buthavingseenthe fragile nature ofmyhandiwork, Iwanted a good long test of the pressureseal.AfterafewminutesstandingaroundinmyEVAsuit,Idecidedtomakebetter

useofmytime.Imaynotbeabletoleavetherover/bedroomuniversewhilethebedroomisattachedtotheairlock,butIcanstayintheroverandclosethedoor.OnceIdidthat,ItookofftheuncomfortableEVAsuit.Thebedroomwason

theothersideoftheairlockdoor,stillfullypressurized.SoI’mstillrunningmytest,butIdon’thavetoweartheEVAsuit.I arbitrarilypickedeighthours for the testduration, so Iwas trapped in the

roveruntilthen.Ispentmytimeplanningthetrip.Therewasn’tmuchtoaddtowhatIalready

knew. I’ll beeline out of Acidalia Planitia to Mawrth Vallis, then follow thevalleyuntil it ends. It’ll takemeon a zigzag routewhichwill dumpme in toArabiaTerra.Afterthat,thingsgetrough.UnlikeAcidaliaPlanitia,ArabiaTerraisriddledwithcraters.Andeachcrater

represents twobrutal elevation changes.First down, thenup. I didmybest tofindtheshortestpatharoundthem.I’msureI’llhavetoadjustthecoursewhenI’mactuallydrivingit.Noplansurvivesfirstcontactwiththeenemy.

•••

MITCH TOOKhis seat in theconference room.Theusualgangwaspresent:Teddy,Venkat,Mitch,andAnnie.ButthistimetherewasalsoMindyPark,aswellasamanMitchhadneverseenbefore.“What’sup,Venk?”Mitchasked.“Whythesuddenmeeting?”

“We’vegotsomedevelopments,”Venkatsaid.“Mindy,whydon’tyoubringthemuptodate?”“Uh,yeah,”Mindysaid.“LookslikeWatneyfinishedtheballoonadditionto

thetrailer.Itmostlyusesthedesignwesenthim.”“Anyideahowstableitis?”Teddyasked.“Prettystable,”shesaid.“It’sbeeninflatedforseveraldayswithnoproblems.

Also,hebuiltsomekindof…room.”“Room?”Teddyasked.“It’s made of Hab canvas, I think,” Mindy explained. “It attaches to the

rover’sairlock.IthinkhecutasectionoutoftheHabtomakeit.Idon’tknowwhatit’sfor.”TeddyturnedtoVenkat.“Whywouldhedothat?”“Wethinkit’saworkshop,”Venkatsaid.“There’llbealotofworktodoon

theMAVonce he gets to Schiaparelli. It’ll be easierwithout anEVA suit.Heprobablyplanstodoasmuchashecaninthatroom.”“Clever,”Teddysaid.“Watney’s a clever guy,” Mitch said. “How about getting life support in

there?”“Ithinkhe’sdoneit,”Mindysaid.“HemovedtheAREC.”“Sorry,”Annieinterrupted.“What’sanAREC?”“It’stheexternalcomponentoftheatmosphericregulator,”Mindysaid.“Itsits

outside theHab,so I sawwhen itdisappeared.Heprobablymounted iton therover.There’snootherreasontomoveit,soI’mguessinghe’sgotlifesupportonline.”“Awesome,”Mitchsaid.“Thingsarecomingtogether.”“Don’tcelebrateyet,Mitch,”Venkatsaid.Hegesturedtothenewcomer.“This

isRandallCarter,oneofourMartianmeteorologists.Randall,tellthemwhatyoutoldme.”Randall nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Kapoor.” He turned his laptop around to

show a map of Mars. “Over the past few weeks, a dust storm has beendevelopinginArabiaTerra.Notabigdealintermsofmagnitude.Itwon’thinderhisdrivingatall.”“Sowhat’stheproblem?”Annieasked.“It’s a low-velocity dust storm,” Randall explained. “Slow winds, but fast

enoughtopickupverysmallparticlesonthesurfaceandwhipthemintothickclouds. There are five or six of them every year. The thing is, they last for

months, theycoverhugesectionsof theplanet,and theymake theatmospherethickwithdust.”“Istilldon’tseetheproblem,”Anniesaid.“Light,”Randallsaid.“Thetotalsunlightreachingthesurfaceisverylowin

theareaof thestorm.Rightnow, it’s twentypercentofnormal.AndWatney’sroverispoweredbysolarpanels.”“Shit,”Mitchsaid,rubbinghiseyes.“Andwecan’twarnhim.”“Sohegetslesspower,”Anniesaid.“Can’thejustrechargelonger?”“Thecurrentplanalreadyhashimrechargingalldaylong,”Venkatexplained.

“Withtwentypercentofnormaldaylight,it’lltakefivetimesaslongtogetthesame energy. It’ll turnhis forty five-sol trip into twohundred and twenty-fivesols.He’llmisstheHermesflyby.”“Can’tHermeswaitforhim?”Annieasked.“It’saflyby,”Venkatsaid.“Hermesisn’tgoingintoMartianorbit.Iftheydid,

they wouldn’t be able to get back. They need their velocity for the returntrajectory.”Afterafewmomentsofsilence,Teddysaid,“We’lljusthavetohopehefinds

awaythrough.Wecantrackhisprogressand—”“No,wecan’t,”Mindyinterrupted.“Wecan’t?”Teddysaid.She shook her head. “The satellites won’t be able to see through the dust.

Onceheenterstheaffectedarea,wewon’tseeanythinguntilhecomesouttheotherside.”“Well…,”Teddysaid.“Shit.”

LOGENTRY:SOL439

BeforeIriskmylifewiththiscontraption,Ineedtotestit.And not the little tests I’ve been doing so far. Sure, I’ve tested power

generation,lifesupport,thetrailerbubble,andthebedroom.ButIneedtotestallaspectsofitworkingtogether.I’mgoingtoloaditupforthelongtripanddriveincircles.Iwon’teverbe

morethan500metersfromtheHab,soI’llbefineifshitbreaks.I dedicated today to loadingup the rover and trailer for the test. Iwant the

weight to match what it’ll be on the real trip. Plus if cargo is going to shiftaroundorbreakthings,Iwanttoknowaboutitnow.Imadeoneconcessiontocommonsense:Ileftmostofmywatersupplyinthe

Hab.I loadedtwentyliters;enoughforthetestbutnomore.Therearealotofways I could lose pressure in thismechanical abomination I’ve created, and Idon’twantallmywatertoboiloffifthathappens.Ontherealtrip,I’mgoingtohave620litersofwater.Imadeuptheweight

differencebyloading600kilogramsofrocksinwithmyothersupplies.BackonEarth,universitiesandgovernmentsarewillingtopaymillionstoget

theirhandsonMarsrocks.I’musingthemasballast.I’mdoingonemorelittletesttonight.Imadesurethebatteriesweregoodand

full,thendisconnectedtheroverandtrailerfromHabpower.I’llbesleepingintheHab,butIlefttherover’slifesupporton.It’llmaintaintheairovernight,andtomorrow I’ll see how much power it ate up. I’ve watched the powerconsumptionwhileit’sattachedtotheHab,andthereweren’tanysurprises.Butthis’llbethetrueproof.Icallitthe“plugs-outtest.”Maybethat’snotthebestname.

•••

THECREWofHermesgatheredintheRec.“Let’s get through status quickly,” Lewis said. “We’re all behind in our

scienceassignments.Vogel,youfirst.”“I repaired the bad cable on VASIMR 4,” Vogel reported. “It was our last

thick-gaugecable.Ifanothersuchproblemoccurs,wewillhavetobraidlower-gauge lines to carry the current. Also, the power output from the reactor is

declining.”“Johanssen,”Lewissaid,“what’sthedealwiththereactor?”“I had to dial it back,” Johanssen said. “It’s the cooling vanes. They aren’t

radiatingheataswellastheyusedto.They’retarnishing.”“How can that happen?” Lewis asked. “They’re outside the craft. There’s

nothingforthemtoreactwith.”“IthinktheypickedupdustorsmallairleaksfromHermesitself.Onewayor

another, they’redefinitely tarnishing.The tarnish is clogging themicro-lattice,andthatreducesthesurfacearea.Lesssurfaceareameanslessheatdissipation.SoIlimitedthereactorenoughthatweweren’tgettingpositiveheat.”“Anychanceofrepairingthecoolingvanes?”“It’s on themicroscopic scale,” Johanssen said. “We’d need a lab. Usually

theyreplacethevanesaftereachmission.”“Willwebeabletomaintainenginepowerfortherestofthemission?”“Yes,iftherateoftarnishingdoesn’tincrease.”“Allright,keepaneyeonit.Beck,how’slifesupport?”“Limping,”Becksaid.“We’vebeeninspacewaylongerthanitwasdesigned

to handle. There are a bunch of filters that would normally be replaced eachmission.IfoundawaytocleanthemwithachemicalbathImadeinthelab,butit eats away at the filters themselves.We’re okay right now, but who knowswhat’llbreaknext?”“Weknewthiswouldhappen,”Lewissaid.“ThedesignofHermesassumedit

wouldgetanoverhaulaftereachmission,butwe’veextendedAres3from396daysto898.Thingsaregoingtobreak.We’vegotallofNASAtohelpwhenthathappens.Wejustneedtostayontopofmaintenance.Martinez,what’sthedealwithyourbunkroom?”Martinezfurrowedhisbrow.“It’sstilltryingtocookme.Theclimatecontrol

justisn’tkeepingup.Ithinkit’sthetubinginthewallsthatbringsthecoolant.Ican’tgetatitbecauseit’sbuiltintothehull.Wecanusetheroomforstorageofnon-temperature-sensitivecargo,butthat’saboutit.”“SodidyoumoveintoMark’sroom?”“It’srightnexttomine,”hesaid.“Ithasthesameproblem.”“Wherehaveyoubeensleeping?”“InAirlock2.It’stheonlyplaceIcanbewithoutpeopletrippingoverme.”“Nogood,”Lewissaid,shakingherhead.“Ifonesealbreaks,youdie.”“Ican’tthinkofanywhereelsetosleep,”hesaid.“Theshipisprettycramped,

andifIsleepinahallwayI’llbeinpeople’sway.”“Okay,fromnowon,sleepinBeck’sroom.BeckcansleepwithJohanssen.”Johanssenblushedandlookeddownawkwardly.“So…,”Becksaid,“youknowaboutthat?”“YouthoughtIdidn’t?”Lewissaid.“It’sasmallship.”“You’renotmad?”“If itwere anormalmission, Iwouldbe,”Lewis said. “Butwe’rewayoff-

scriptnow.Justkeepitfrominterferingwithyourduties,andI’mhappy.”“Million-mile-highclub,”Martinezsaid.“Nice!”Johanssenblusheddeeperandburiedherfaceinherhands.

LOGENTRY:SOL444

I’mgettingprettygoodatthis.MaybewhenallthisisoverIcouldbeaproducttesterforMarsrovers.Thingswentwell.Ispentfivesolsdrivingincircles;Iaveraged93kilometers

per sol. That’s a little better than I’d expected. The terrain here is flat andsmooth, so it’s prettymuch a best-case scenario.Once I’mgoing up hills andaroundboulders,itwon’tbenearlythatgood.The bedroom is awesome. Large, spacious, and comfortable. On the first

night,Iranintoalittleproblemwiththetemperature.Itwasfuckingcold.Theroverandtrailerregulatetheirowntemperaturesjustfine,butthingsweren’thotenoughinthebedroom.Storyofmylife.Theroverhasanelectricheaterthatpushesairwithasmallfan.Idon’tusethe

heater itself for anything because the RTG provides all the heat I need, so Iliberated the fan andwired it into a power line near the airlock. Once it hadpower,allIhadtodowaspointitatthebedroom.It’s a low-tech solution, but itworked.There’s plentyof heat, thanks to the

RTG.Ijustneededtogetitevenlyspreadout.Foronce,entropywasonmyside.I’vediscoveredthatrawpotatoesaredisgusting.WhenI’mintheHab,Icook

mytatersusingasmallmicrowave.Idon’thaveanythinglikethatintherover.Icould easily bring theHab’smicrowave into the rover andwire it in, but theenergy required tocook tenpotatoesadaywouldactuallycut intomydrivingdistance.Ifell intoaroutineprettyquickly.Infact,itwashauntinglyfamiliar.Ididit

for twenty-twomiserable sols on thePathfinder trip. But this time, I had thebedroom and thatmakes all the difference. Instead of being cooped up in therover,IhavemyownlittleHab.Afterwakingup, I have apotato forbreakfast.Then, I deflate thebedroom

fromtheinside.It’skindoftricky,butIworkedouthow.First, I put on anEVAsuit.Then I close the inner airlockdoor, leaving the

outerdoor(whichthebedroomisattachedto)open.Thisisolatesthebedroom,withmeinit,fromtherestoftherover.ThenItelltheairlocktodepressurize.Itthinksit’sjustpumpingtheairoutofasmallarea,butit’sactuallydeflatingthewholebedroom.Once thepressure is gone, I pull the canvas in and fold it.Then I detach it

fromtheouterhatchandclosetheouterdoor.This is themostcrampedpart.Ihave to share the airlock with the entire folded-up bedroom while itrepressurizes.OnceIhavepressureagain,Iopentheinnerdoorandmoreorlessfall into the rover. Then I stow the bedroom and go back to the airlock for anormalegresstoMars.It’s a complicated process, but it detaches the bedroom without having to

depressurizetherovercabin.Remember,theroverhasallmystuffthatdoesn’tplaywellwithvacuum.ThenextstepistogatherupthesolarcellsIlaidoutthedaybeforeandstow

them on the rover and trailer. Then I do a quick check on the trailer. I go inthroughitsairlockandbasicallytakeaquicklookatall theequipment.Idon’teventakeoffmyEVAsuit.Ijustwanttomakesurenothing’sobviouslywrong.Then,backtotherover.Onceinside,ItakeofftheEVAsuitandstartdriving.

Idriveforalmostfourhours,andthenI’moutofpower.OnceIpark,it’sbackintotheEVAsuitforme,andouttoMarsagain.Ilay

thesolarpanelsoutandgetthebatteriescharging.ThenIsetupthebedroom.Prettymuchthereverseof thesequenceIuseto

stowit.Ultimately,it’stheairlockthatinflatesit.Inaway,thebedroomisjustanextensionoftheairlock.Eventhoughit’spossible,Idon’trapid-inflatethebedroom.Ididthattotestit

becauseIwantedtofindwhereit’llleak.Butit’snotagoodidea.Rapidinflationputsalotofshockandpressureonit.Itwouldeventuallyrupture.Ididn’tenjoythattimetheHablaunchedmelikeacannonball.I’mnoteagertorepeatit.Once the bedroom is set up again, I can take offmyEVA suit and relax. I

mostlywatch crappy seventiesTV. I’m indistinguishable from an unemployedguyformostoftheday.Ifollowedthatprocessforfoursols,andthenitwastimeforan“AirDay.”AnAirDayturnsouttobeprettymuchthesameasanyotherday,butwithout

thefour-hourdrive.OnceIsetupthesolarpanels,IfireduptheoxygenatorandletitworkthroughthebacklogofCO2thattheregulatorhadstoredup.ItconvertedalltheCO2tooxygenanduseduptheday’spowergenerationto

doit.Thetestwasasuccess.I’llbereadyontime.

LOGENTRY:SOL449

Today’sthebigday.I’mleavingforSchiaparelli.Theroverandtrailerareallpacked.They’vebeenmostlypackedsincethetest

run.ButnowIevenhavethewateraboard.Overthelastfewdays,IcookedallthepotatoeswiththeHab’smicrowave.It

tookquiteawhile,because themicrowavecanonlyhold fourat a time.Aftercooking,Iput thembackoutonthesurface tofreeze.Oncefrozen,Iput themback in the rover’s saddlebags. This may seem like a waste of time, but it’scritical. Instead of eating raw potatoes during my trip, I’ll be eating (cold)precooked potatoes. First off, they’ll taste a lot better. But more important,they’llbecooked.Whenyoucookfood,theproteinsbreakdown,andthefoodbecomeseasiertodigest.I’llgetmorecaloriesoutofit,andIneedeverycalorieIcangetmyhandson.I spent the last several days running full diagnostics on everything. The

regulator,oxygenator,RTG,AREC,batteries,roverlifesupport(incaseIneedabackup),solarcells,rovercomputer,airlocks,andeverythingelsewithamovingpart or electronic component. I even checked eachof themotors.Eight in all,one for eachwheel, four on the rover, four on the trailer.The trailer’smotorswon’tbepowered,butit’snicetohavebackups.It’sallgoodtogo.NoproblemsthatIcansee.TheHabisashellofitsformerself.I’verobbeditofallcriticalcomponents

andabigchunkofitscanvas.I’velootedthatpoorHabforeverythingitcouldgiveme,andinreturnit’skeptmealiveforayearandahalf.It’sliketheGivingTree.Iperformed the final shutdown today.Theheaters, lighting,maincomputer,

etc.AllthecomponentsIdidn’tstealforthetriptoSchiaparelli.I could have left themon. It’s not like anyonewould care.But the original

procedure for Sol 31 (which was supposed to be the last day of the surfacemission)was to completely shut down theHab and deflate it, becauseNASAdidn’t want a big tent full of combustible oxygen next to the MAV when itlaunched.I guess I did the shutdown as an homage to themissionAres 3 couldhave

been.AsmallpieceoftheSol31Inevergottohave.OnceI’dshuteverythingdown, the interiorof theHabwaseerilysilent. I’d

spent449solslisteningtoitsheaters,vents,andfans.Butnowitwasdeadquiet.

Itwasa creepykindofquiet that’shard todescribe. I’vebeenaway from thenoisesof theHabbefore,butalways ina roveroranEVAsuit,bothofwhichhavenoisymachineryoftheirown.Butnowtherewasnothing.IneverrealizedhowutterlysilentMarsis.It’sa

desertworldwithpracticallynoatmosphere toconveysound. Icouldhearmyownheartbeat.Anyway,enoughwaxingphilosophical.I’m in the rover right now. (That should be obvious, with the Hab main

computerofflineforever.)I’vegottwofullbatteries,allsystemsarego,andI’vegotforty-fivesolsofdrivingaheadofme.Schiaparelliorbust!

CHAPTER22

LOGENTRY:SOL458

MawrthVallis!I’mfinallyhere!Actually,it’snotanimpressiveaccomplishment.I’veonlybeentravelingten

sols.Butit’sagoodpsychologicalmilestone.Sofar,theroverandmyghettolifesupportareworkingadmirably.Atleast,as

wellascanbeexpectedforequipmentbeingusedtentimeslongerthanintended.Today ismy secondAirDay (the firstwas five sols ago).When I put this

schemetogether,IfiguredAirDayswouldbegodawfulboring.ButnowIlookforwardtothem.They’remydaysoff.Onanormalday, I getup, foldup thebedroom, stack the solar cells, drive

fourhours, setup the solarcells,unfurl thebedroom,checkallmyequipment(especiallytheroverchassisandwheels),thenmakeaMorsecodestatusreportforNASA,ifIcanfindenoughnearbyrocks.OnanAirDay, Iwakeupand turnon theoxygenator.The solarpanels are

alreadyoutfromthedaybefore.Everything’sreadytogo.ThenIchilloutinthebedroom or rover. I have the whole day to myself. The bedroom gives meenoughspacethatIdon’tfeelcoopedup,andthecomputerhasplentyofshittyTVrerunsformetoenjoy.Technically, I entered Mawrth Vallis yesterday. But I only knew that by

lookingatamap.TheentrancetothevalleyiswideenoughthatIcouldn’tseethecanyonwallsineitherdirection.ButnowI’mdefinitelyinacanyon.Andthebottomisniceandflat.Exactly

whatIwashopingfor. It’samazing; thisvalleywasn’tmadebyariverslowlycarvingitaway.Itwasmadebyamega-floodinasingleday.Itwouldhavebeenahellofathingtosee.Weird thought: I’mnot inAcidaliaPlanitiaanymore. I spent457sols there,

almost a year and a half, and I’ll never go back. Iwonder if I’ll be nostalgicaboutthatlaterinlife.If there is a “later in life,” I’ll behappy toendurea littlenostalgia.But for

now,Ijustwanttogohome.

•••

“WELCOMEBACKtoCNN’sMarkWatneyReport,”Cathysaidtothecamera.“We’re

speakingwithourfrequentguest,Dr.VenkatKapoor.Dr.Kapoor,Iguesswhatpeoplewanttoknowis,isMarkWatneydoomed?”“We hope not,” Venkat responded, “but he’s got a real challenge ahead of

him.”“According to your latest satellite data, the dust storm inArabiaTerra isn’t

abatingatall,andwillblockeightypercentofthesunlight?”“That’scorrect.”“AndWatney’sonlysourceofenergyishissolarpanels,correct?”“Yes,that’sright.”“Canhismakeshiftroveroperateattwentypercentpower?”“Wehaven’t foundanyway tomake thathappen,no.His lifesupportalone

takesmoreenergythanthat.”“Howlonguntilheentersthestorm?”“He’sjustenteredMawrthVallisnow.Athiscurrentrateoftravel,he’llbeat

theedgeofthestormonSol471.That’stwelvedaysfromnow.”“Surelyhe’llseesomethingiswrong,”Cathysaid.“Withsuchlowvisibility,

itwon’ttakelongforhimtorealizehissolarcellswillhaveaproblem.Couldn’thejustturnaroundatthatpoint?”“Unfortunately,everything’sworkingagainsthim,”Venkatsaid.“Theedgeof

the storm isn’t amagic line. It’s just an areawhere thedust gets a littlemoredense.It’llkeepgettingmoreandmoredenseashetravelsonward.It’llbereallysubtle;everydaywillbeslightlydarkerthanthelast.Toosubtletonotice.”Venkat sighed. “He’ll go hundreds of kilometers, wondering why his solar

panelefficiency isgoingdown,beforehenoticesanyvisibilityproblems.Andthestormismovingwestashemoveseast.He’llbetoodeepintogetout.”“Arewejustwatchingatragedyplayout?”Cathyasked.“There’salwayshope,”Venkatsaid.“Maybehe’llfigureitoutfasterthanwe

think and turn around in time. Maybe the storm will dissipate unexpectedly.Maybehe’ll find away tokeephis life support goingon less energy thanwethoughtwaspossible.MarkWatney is nowan expert at survivingonMars. Ifanyonecandoit,it’shim.”“Twelve days,” Cathy said to the camera. “All of Earth is watching but

powerlesstohelp.”

LOGENTRY:SOL462

Anotheruneventful sol.Tomorrow isanAirDay, so this iskindofmyFridaynight.I’mabouthalfway throughMawrthVallisnow. Just as I’dhoped, thegoing

hasbeeneasy.Nomajorelevationchanges.Hardlyanyobstacles. Just smoothsandwithrockssmallerthanhalfameter.YoumaybewonderinghowInavigate.WhenIwenttoPathfinder,Iwatched

Phobos transit the sky to figure out the east-west axis.ButPathfinderwas aneasytripcomparedtothis,andIhadplentyoflandmarkstonavigateby.I can’t get away with that this time. My “map” (such as it is) consists of

satellite images far too low-resolution to be of any use. I can only seemajorlandmarks,likecraters50kilometersacross.Theyjustneverexpectedmetobeout this far.Theonly reason Ihadhigh-res imagesof thePathfinder region isbecause theywere includedfor landingpurposes; incaseMartinezhad to landwaylongofourtarget.Sothistimearound,IneededareliablewaytofixmypositiononMars.Latitude and longitude. That’s the key. The first is easy.Ancient sailors on

Earthfiguredthatoneoutrightaway.Earth’s23.5-degreeaxispointsatPolaris.Marshasatiltofjustover25degrees,soit’spointedatDeneb.Makingasextantisn’thard.Allyouneedisatubetolookthrough,astring,a

weight,andsomethingwithdegreemarkings.Imademineinunderanhour.SoIgoouteverynightwithahomemadesextantandsightDeneb.It’skindof

sillyifyouthinkaboutit.I’minmyspacesuitonMarsandI’mnavigatingwithsixteenth-centurytools.Buthey,theywork.Longitude is a different matter. On Earth, the earliest way to work out

longitude required them to know the exact time, then compare it to the sun’spositioninthesky.Thehardpartforthembackthenwasinventingaclockthatwouldworkonaboat (pendulumsdon’tworkonboats).All the top scientificmindsoftheageworkedontheproblem.Fortunately, I have accurate clocks. There are four computers in my

immediatelineofsightrightnow.AndIhavePhobos.BecausePhobosisridiculouslyclosetoMars,itorbitstheplanetinlessthan

oneMartian day. It travelswest to east (unlike the sun andDeimos) and setseveryelevenhours.Andnaturally,itmovesinaverypredictablepattern.I spend thirteen hours every sol just sitting around while the solar panels

chargethebatteries.Phobosisguaranteedtosetatleastonceduringthattime.Inotethetimewhenitdoes.ThenIplugitintoanastyformulaIworkedoutandIknowmylongitude.So working out longitude requires Phobos to set, and working out latitude

requiresittobenightsoIcansightDeneb.It’snotaveryfastsystem.ButIonlyneeditonceaday.IworkoutmylocationwhenI’mparked,andaccountforitinthe next day’s travel. It’s kind of a successive approximation thing. So far, Ithink it’sbeenworking.Butwhoknows?Icansee itnow:meholdingamap,scratchingmyhead,tryingtofigureouthowIendeduponVenus.

•••

MINDY PARKzoomed inon the latest satellitephotowithpracticedease.Watney’sencampmentwasvisibleinthecenter,thesolarcellslaidoutinacircularpatternaswashishabit.Theworkshopwasinflated.Checkingthetimestampontheimage,shesawit

wasfromnoon local time.Shequicklyfound thestatus report;Watneyalwaysplaceditclosetotheroverwhenrockswereinabundance,usuallytothenorth.Tosavetime,MindyhadtaughtherselfMorsecode,soshewouldn’thaveto

lookeachletterupeverymorning.Sheopenedane-mailandaddressedittotheever-growinglistofpeoplewhowantedWatney’sdailystatusmessage.

“ONTRACKFORSOL494ARRIVAL.”

Shefrownedandadded“Note:fivesolsuntilduststormentry.”

LOGENTRY:SOL466

MawrthValliswasfunwhileitlasted.I’minArabiaTerranow.I just entered the edge of it, if my latitude and longitude calculations are

correct.Butevenwithoutthemath,it’sprettyobvioustheterrainischanging.Forthelasttwosols,I’vespentalmostallmytimeonanincline,workingmy

wayupthebackwallofMawrthVallis.Itwasagentlerise,butaconstantone.I’mat amuchhigher altitudenow.AcidaliaPlanitia (where the lonelyHab ishanging out) is 3000 meters below elevation zero, and Arabia Terra is 500metersbelow.SoI’vegoneuptwoandahalfkilometers.Wanttoknowwhatelevationzeromeans?OnEarth,it’ssealevel.Obviously,

thatwon’tworkonMars.Solab-coatedgeeksgottogetheranddecidedMars’selevation zero is wherever the air pressure is 610.5 pascals. That’s about 500metersupfromwhereIamrightnow.Now thingsget tricky.Back inAcidaliaPlanitia, if Igotoffcourse, I could

justpointintherightdirectionbasedonnewdata.Later,inMawrthVallis,itwasimpossibletoscrewup.Ijusthadtofollowthecanyon.Now I’m in a rougher neighborhood. The kind of neighborhoodwhere you

keepyourroverdoorslockedandnevercometoacompletestopatintersections.Well,notreally,butit’sbadtogetoffcoursehere.ArabiaTerrahaslarge,brutalcratersthatIhavetodrivearound.IfInavigate

poorly,I’llendupattheedgeofone.Ican’tjustdrivedownonesideanduptheother.Rising inelevationcostsa tonofenergy.Onflatground,Icanmake90kilometers per day.On a steep slope, I’d be lucky to get 40 kilometers. Plus,drivingonaslopeisdangerous.OnemistakeandIcouldrolltherover.Idon’tevenwanttothinkaboutthat.Yes,I’lleventuallyhavetodrivedownintoSchiaparelli.Nowayaroundthat.

I’llhavetobereallycareful.Anyway, if I end up at the edge of a crater, I’ll have to backtrack to

somewhereuseful.Andit’sadamnmazeofcratersouthere.I’llhavetobeonmyguard,observantatalltimes.I’llneedtonavigatewithlandmarksaswellaslatitudeandlongitude.MyfirstchallengeistopassbetweenthecratersRutherfordandTrouvelot.It

shouldn’tbe toohard.They’re100kilometersapart.EvenIcan’tfuckthatup,right?Right?

LOGENTRY:SOL468

I managed to thread the needle between Rutherford and Trouvelot nicely.Admittedly,theneedlewas100kilometerswide,buthey.I’mnow enjoyingmy fourthAirDay of the trip. I’ve been on the road for

twentysols.Sofar,I’mrightonschedule.Accordingtomymaps,I’vetraveled1440kilometers.Notquitehalfwaythere,butalmost.I’vebeengatheringsoilandrocksamplesfromeachplaceIcamp.Idid the

same thingonmyway toPathfinder.But this time, IknowNASA’swatchingme.SoI’mlabelingeachsamplebythecurrentsol.They’llknowmylocationahellofalotmoreaccuratelythanIdo.Theycancorrelatethesampleswiththeirlocationslater.It might be a wasted effort. The MAV isn’t going to have much weight

allowance when I launch. To intercept Hermes, it’ll have to reach escapevelocity,but itwasonlydesigned toget toorbit.Theonlyway toget itgoingfastenoughistolosealotofweight.At least that jury-riggingwillbeNASA’s job toworkout,notmine.Once I

get to theMAV, I’ll be back in contactwith them and they can tellmewhatmodificationstomake.They’llprobablysay,“Thanksforgatheringsamples.Butleavethembehind.

Andoneofyourarms,too.Whicheveroneyoulikeleast.”ButontheoffchanceIcanbringthesamples,I’mgatheringthem.Thenext fewdays’ travel shouldbeeasy.Thenextmajorobstacle isMarth

Crater. It’s right in my straight-line path toward Schiaparelli. It’ll cost me ahundredkilometersorsotogoaround,butitcan’tbehelped.I’lltrytoaimforthe southern edge. The closer I get to the rim the less time I’ll waste goingaroundit.

•••

“DID YOU read today’s updates?” Lewis asked, pulling her meal from themicrowave.“Yeah,”Martinezsaid,sippinghisdrink.She sat across the Rec table from him and carefully opened the steaming

package.Shedecided to let it cool abitbeforeeating. “Markentered thedust

stormyesterday.”“Yeah,Isawthat,”hesaid.“Weneedtofacethepossibilitythathewon’tmakeittoSchiaparelli,”Lewis

said.“Ifthathappens,weneedtokeepmoraleup.Westillhavealongwaytogobeforewegethome.”“He was dead before,” Martinez said. “It was rough on morale, but we

soldieredon.Besides,hewon’tdie.”“It’s pretty bleak,Rick,”Lewis said. “He’s already fifty kilometers into the

storm, andhe’ll go another ninetykilometers per sol.He’ll get in toodeep torecoversoon.”Martinezshookhishead.“He’llpullthrough,Commander.Havefaith.”Shesmiledforlornly.“Rick,youknowI’mnotreligious.”“Iknow,”hesaid.“I’mnottalkingaboutfaithinGod,I’mtalkingaboutfaith

inMarkWatney.LookatalltheshitMarshasthrownathim,andhe’sstillalive.He’llsurvivethis.Idon’tknowhow,buthewill.He’sacleversonofabitch.”Lewistookabiteofherfood.“Ihopeyou’reright.”“Wanttobetahundredbucks?”Martinezsaidwithasmile.“Ofcoursenot,”Lewissaid.“Damnright,”hesmiled.“I’d never bet on a crewmate dying,”Lewis said. “But that doesn’tmean I

thinkhe’ll—”“Blahblahblah,”Martinezinterrupted.“Deepdown,youthinkhe’llmakeit.”

LOGENTRY:SOL473

My fifth Air Day, and things are going well. I should be skimming south ofMarthCratertomorrow.It’llgeteasierafterthat.I’minthemiddleofabunchofcratersthatformatriangle.I’mcallingitthe

WatneyTrianglebecauseafterwhatI’vebeenthrough,stuffonMarsshouldbenamedafterme.Trouvelot, Becquerel, and Marth form the points of the triangle, with five

othermajorcratersalongthesides.Normallythiswouldn’tbeaproblematall,butwithmyextremelyroughnavigation,Icouldeasilyendupatthelipofoneofthemandhavetobacktrack.AfterMarth, I’ll be out of theWatneyTriangle (yeah, I’m liking that name

moreandmore).ThenIcanbeelinetowardSchiaparelliwithimpunity.There’llstillbeplentyofcratersintheway,butthey’recomparativelysmall,andgoingaroundthemwon’tcostmuchtime.Progress has been great. Arabia Terra is certainly rockier than Acidalia

Planitia,butnowherenearasbadasI’dfeared.I’vebeenabletodriveovermostoftherocks,andaroundtheonesthataretoobig.Ihave1435kilometerslefttogo.IdidsomeresearchonSchiaparelliandfoundsomegoodnews.Thebestway

inisrightinmydirect-linepath.Iwon’thavetodrivetheperimeteratall.Andthewayiniseasytofind,evenwhenyousuckatnavigating.Thenorthwestrimhas a smaller crater on it, and that’s the landmark I’ll be looking for. To thesouthwestofthatlittlecraterisagentleslopeintoSchiaparelliBasin.The littlecraterdoesn’thaveaname.At least,noton themapsIhave.SoI

dubit“EntranceCrater.”BecauseIcan.Inothernews,myequipmentisstartingtoshowsignsofage.Notsurprising,

considering it’sway thehellpast itsexpirationdate.For thepast twosols, thebatterieshavetakenlongertorecharge.Thesolarcells justaren’tproducingasmuchwattageasbefore.It’snotabigdeal,Ijustneedtochargealittlelonger.

LOGENTRY:SOL474

Well,Ifuckeditup.Itwasboundtohappeneventually.Inavigatedbadlyandendedupattheridge

ofMarthCrater.Becauseit’s100kilometerswide,Ican’tseethewholething,soIdon’tknowwhereonthecircleIam.Theridgerunsperpendicular tothedirectionIwasgoing.SoIhavenoclue

whichwayIshouldgo.AndIdon’twant to takethelongwayaroundifIcanavoidit.OriginallyIwantedtogoaroundtothesouth,butnorthisjustaslikelytobethebestpathnowthatI’moffcourse.I’llhavetowaitforanotherPhobostransittogetmylongitude,andI’llneed

towaitfornightfalltosightDenebformylatitude.SoI’mdonedrivingfortheday.LuckilyI’dmade70kilometersoutofthe90kilometersIusuallydo,soit’snottoomuchwastedprogress.Marth isn’t too steep. I couldprobably justdrivedownone side andup the

other. It’s big enough that I’d endup camping inside it onenight.But I don’twant to take unnecessary risks. Slopes are bad and should be avoided. I gavemyselfplentyofbuffertime,soI’mgoingtoplayitsafe.I’mending today’sdriveearlyand settingup for recharge.Probablyagood

ideaanywaywith the solar cells actingup; it’ll give themmore time towork.Theyunderperformedagain lastnight. Icheckedall theconnectionsandmadesuretherewasn’tanydustonthem,buttheystilljustaren’t100percent.

LOGENTRY:SOL475

I’mintrouble.I watched two Phobos transits yesterday and sighted Deneb last night. I

workedoutmylocationasaccuratelyasIcould,anditwasn’twhatIwantedtosee.AsfarasIcantell,IhitMarthCraterdead-on.Craaaaap.Icangonorthor south.Oneof themwillprobablybebetter than theother,

becauseit’llbeashorterpatharoundthecrater.I figuredIshouldputat leasta littleeffort intofiguringoutwhichdirection

wasbest,soItookalittlewalkthismorning.Itwasoverakilometertothepeakoftherim.That’sthesortofwalkpeopledoonEarthwithoutthinkingtwice,butinanEVAsuitit’sanordeal.Ican’twaittillIhavegrandchildren.“WhenIwasyounger,Ihadtowalkto

therimofacrater.Uphill!InanEVAsuit!OnMars,yalittleshit!Yahearme?Mars!”Anyway,Igotuptotherim,anddamn,it’sabeautifulsight.Frommyhigh

vantagepoint,Igotastunningpanorama.IfiguredImightbeabletoseethefarsideofMarthCrater,andmaybeworkoutthebestwayaround.ButIcouldn’tseethefarside.Therewasahazeintheair.It’snotuncommon;

Mars has weather and wind and dust, after all. But it seemed hazier than itshould. I’m accustomed to the wide-open expanses of Acidalia Planitia, myformerprairiehome.Then it gotweirder. I turned around and looked back toward the rover and

trailer.EverythingwaswhereI’dleftit(veryfewcarthievesonMars).Buttheviewseemedalotclearer.I lookedeast acrossMarthagain.Thenwest to thehorizon.Theneast, then

west.Eachturnrequiredmetorotatemywholebody,EVAsuitsbeingwhattheyare.Yesterday, I passed a crater. It’s about 50 kilometers west of here. It’s just

visibleonthehorizon.Butlookingeast,Ican’tseeanywherenearthatfar.MarthCrateris110kilometerswide.Withavisibilityof50kilometers,Ishouldatleastbeabletoseeadistinctcurvatureoftherim.ButIcan’t.Atfirst,Ididn’tknowwhattomakeofit.Butthelackofsymmetrybothered

me.And I’ve learned to be suspicious of everything. That’swhen a bunch ofstuffstartedtodawnonme:

1.Theonlyexplanationforasymmetricalvisibilityisaduststorm.

2.Duststormsreducetheeffectivenessofsolarcells.

3.Mysolarcellshavebeenslowlylosingeffectivenessforseveralsols.

Fromthis,Iconcludedthefollowing:

1.I’vebeeninaduststormforseveralsols.

2.Shit.

NotonlyamIinaduststorm,butitgetsthickerasIapproachSchiaparelli.Afewhoursago,IwasworriedbecauseIhadtogoaroundMarthCrater.NowI’mgoingtohavetogoaroundsomethingalotbigger.And I have to hustle. Dust storms move. Sitting still means I’ll likely get

overwhelmed.Butwhichway do I go? It’s no longer an issue of trying to beefficient.IfIgothewrongwaythistime,I’lleatdustanddie.Idon’thavesatelliteimagery.Ihavenowayofknowingthesizeorshapeof

thestorm,oritsheading.Man,I’dgiveanythingforafive-minuteconversationwithNASA.NowthatIthinkofit,NASAmustbeshittingbrickswatchingthisplayout.I’montheclock.IhavetofigureouthowtofigureoutwhatIneedtoknow

aboutthestorm.AndIhavetodoitnow.Andrightthissecondnothingcomestomind.

•••

MINDY TRUDGED to her computer. Today’s shift began at 2:10 p.m. Her schedulematchedWatney’s every day.She sleptwhenhe slept.Watney simply slept atnightonMars,whileMindyhadtodriftfortyminutesforwardeveryday,tapingaluminumfoiltoherwindowstogetanysleepatall.Shebroughtupthemostrecentsatelliteimages.Shecockedaneyebrow.He

hadnotbrokencampyet.Usuallyhedrove in theearlymorning,assoonas itwas light enough to navigate. Then he capitalized on the midday sun tomaximizerecharging.Buttoday,hehadnotmoved,anditwaswellpastmorning.Shecheckedaroundtheroversandthebedroomforamessage.Shefounditin

the usual place (northof the campsite).As she read theMorse code, her eyeswidened.“DUSTSTORM.MAKINGPLAN.”Fumblingwithhercellphone,shedialedVenkat’spersonalnumber.

CHAPTER23

LOGENTRY:SOL476

IthinkIcanworkthisout.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 advantageof. I don’t have towanderaroundexploringit.It’llcometome.Thestormisjustdustintheair;it’snotdangeroustotherovers.Icanthinkof

itas“percentpowerloss.”Icheckedyesterday’spowergeneration,anditwas97percentofoptimal.Sorightnow,it’sa3percentstorm.IneedtomakeprogressandIneedtoregenerateoxygen.Thosearemytwo

maingoals.Iuse20percentofmyoverallpowertoreclaimoxygen(whenIstopfor Air Days). If I end up in an 81 percent part of the storm, I’ll be in realtrouble.I’llrunoutofoxygenevenifIdedicateallavailablepowertoproducingit.That’s the fatal scenario.But really, it’s fatalmuch earlier than that. I needpowertomoveorI’llbestrandeduntilthestormpassesordissipates.Thatcouldbemonths.ThemorepowerIgenerate,themoreI’llhaveformovement.Withclearskies,

Idedicate80percentofmytotalpowertowardmovement.Iget90kilometerspersolthisway.Sorightnow,at3percentloss,I’mgetting2.7kilometerslessthanIshould.It’s okay to lose somedriving distance per sol. I have plenty of time, but I

can’tletmyselfgettoodeepinthestormorI’llneverbeabletogetout.Attheveryleast,Ineedtotravelfasterthanthestorm.IfIcangofaster,Ican

maneuverarounditwithoutbeingenveloped.SoIneedtofindouthowfastit’smoving.Icando thatbysittinghere fora sol. Icancompare tomorrow’swattage to

today’s.AllIhavetodoismakesuretocompareatthesametimesofday.ThenI’llknowhowfastthestormismoving,atleastintermsofpercentpowerloss.ButIneedtoknowtheshapeofthestorm,too.Duststormsarebig.Theycanbethousandsofkilometersacross.SowhenI

workmywayaroundit, I’llneedtoknowwhichwaytogo.I’llwant tomoveperpendiculartothestorm’smovement,andinwhateverdirectionhaslessstorm.Sohere’smyplan:Right now, I can go 86 kilometers (because I couldn’t get a full battery

yesterday). Tomorrow, I’m going to leave a solar cell here and drive 40kilometersduesouth.ThenI’lldropoffanothersolarcellanddriveanother40

kilometers due south. That’ll give me three points of reference across 80kilometers.Thenextday,I’llgobacktocollectthecellsandgetthedata.Bycomparing

thewattageatthesametimeofdayinthosethreelocations,I’lllearntheshapeofthestorm.Ifthestormisthickertothesouth,I’llgonorthtogetaroundit.Ifit’sthickernorth,I’llgosouth.I’mhoping to go south.Schiaparelli is southeast ofme.Goingnorthwould

addalotoftimetomytotaltrip.There’soneslightproblemwithmyplan:Idon’thaveanywayto“record”the

wattagefromanabandonedsolarcell.Icaneasilytrackandlogwattagewiththerovercomputer,butIneedsomethingIcandropoffandleavebehind.Ican’tjusttake readings as I drive along. I need readings at the same time in differentplaces.SoI’mgoing tospend todayworkingonsomemadscience. Ihave tomake

somethingthatcanlogwattage.SomethingIcanleavebehindwithasinglesolarcell.SinceI’mstuckhereforthedayanyway,I’llleavethesolarcellsout.Imayas

wellgetafullbatteryoutofit.

LOGENTRY:SOL477

Ittookalldayyesterdayandtoday,butIthinkI’mreadytomeasurethisstorm.Ineededawaytologthetimeofdayandthewattageofeachsolarcell.One

ofthecellswouldbewithme,buttheothertwowouldbedroppedoffandleftfaraway.AndthesolutionwastheextraEVAsuitIbroughtalong.EVA suits have cameras recording everything they see. There’s one on the

right arm (or the left if the astronaut is left-handed) and another above thefaceplate.A time stamp is burned into the lower left cornerof the image, justlikeontheshakyhomevideosDadusedtotake.Myelectronicskithasseveralpowermeters.SoIfigured,whymakemyown

loggingsystem?Icanjustfilmthepowermeteralldaylong.Sothat’swhatIsetup.WhenIpackedforthisroadtrip,Imadesuretobring

allmykitsandtools.JustincaseIhadtorepairtheroverenroute.First,IharvestedthecamerasfrommyspareEVAsuit.Ihadtobecareful;I

didn’twanttoruinthesuit.It’smyonlyspare.Iextractedthecamerasandthelinesleadingtotheirmemorychips.Iputapowermeterintoasmallsamplecontainer,thengluedacameratothe

undersideof the lid.When I sealedup the container, the camerawasproperlyrecordingthereadoutofthepowermeter.Fortesting,Iusedroverpower.HowwillmyloggergetpoweronceIabandon

it on the surface? It’ll be attached to a two-square-meter solar cell! That’llprovideplentyofpower.AndIputasmallrechargeablebatteryinthecontainertotideitoverduringnighttime(again,harvestedfromthespareEVAsuit).Thenextproblemwasheat,orthelackthereof.AssoonasItakethisthingout

of the rover, it’ll start cooling down mighty fast. If it gets too cold, theelectronicswillstopworking.So I needed a heat source. And my electronics kit provided the answer:

resistors.Lotsandlotsofthem.Resistorsheatup.It’swhattheydo.Thecameraandthepowermeteronlyneedatinyfractionofwhatasolarcellcanmake.Sotherestoftheenergygoesthroughresistors.Imadeand tested two“power loggers”andconfirmed that the imageswere

beingproperlyrecorded.ThenIhadanEVA.Idetachedtwoofmysolarcellsandhookedthemupto

thepowerloggers.Iletthemloghappilyforanhour,thenbroughtthembackintochecktheresults.Theyworkedgreat.

It’s getting toward nightfall now. Tomorrowmorning, I’ll leave one powerloggerbehindandheadsouth.While I was working, I left the oxygenator going (why not?). So I’m all

stockeduponO2andgoodtogo.Thesolarcellefficiencyfortodaywas92.5percent.Comparedtoyesterday’s

97percent.Thisprovesthestormismovingeasttowest,becausethedenserpartofthestormwastotheeastyesterday.Sorightnow,thesunlightinthisareaisdroppingby4.5percentpersol.IfI

weretostayhereanothersixteensols,itwouldgetdarkenoughtokillme.JustaswellI’mnotgoingtostayhere.

LOGENTRY:SOL478

Everythingwentasplannedtoday.Nohiccups.Ican’ttellifI’mdrivingdeeperintothestormoroutofit.It’shardtotelliftheambientlightislessormorethanitwasyesterday.Thehumanbrainworkshardtoabstractthatout.I left a power logger behindwhen I started out. Then, after 40 kilometers’

travelduesouth,IhadaquickEVAtosetupanother.NowI’vegonethefull80kilometers,setupmysolarcellsforcharging,andI’mloggingthewattage.Tomorrow,I’llhavetoreversecourseandpickupthepowerloggers.Itmay

bedangerous;I’llbedrivingrightbackintoaknownstormarea.Buttheriskisworththegain.Also,haveImentionedI’msickofpotatoes?Because,byGod,Iamsickof

potatoes.IfIeverreturntoEarth,I’mgoingtobuyanicelittlehomeinWesternAustralia. Because Western Australia is on the opposite side of Earth fromIdaho.IbringitupbecauseIdinedonamealpacktoday.Ihadsavedfivepacksfor

special occasions. I ate the first of them twenty-nine sols agowhen I left forSchiaparelli, but I totally forgot to eat the secondwhen I reached the halfwaypointafewsolsago.SoI’menjoyingmybelatedhalfwayfeast.It’sprobablymoreaccuratetoeatittodayanyway.Whoknowshowlongit’ll

takemetogoaroundthisstorm?AndifIendupstuckinthestormanddoomedtodie,I’mtotallyeatingtheotherearmarkedmeals.

LOGENTRY:SOL479

Haveyouevertakenthewrongfreewayentrance?Youjustneedtodrivetothenextexittoturnaround,butyouhateeveryinchoftravelbecauseyou’regoingawayfromyourgoal.Ifeltlikethatallday.I’mnowbackwhereIstartedyesterdaymorning.Yuk.Along theway, I pickedup thepower logger I’d left behind at thehalfway

point.JustnowIbroughtintheoneI’dlefthereyesterday.Both loggers worked theway I’d hoped. I downloaded each of their video

recordingstoalaptopandadvancedthemtonoon.FinallyIhadsolarefficiencyreadingsfromthreelocationsalongan80-kilometerline,allfromthesametimeofday.Asofnoonyesterday,thenorthernmostloggershowed12.3percentefficiency

loss,themiddleonehada9.5percentloss,andtheroverrecordeda6.4percentloss at its southernmost location. It paints a pretty clear picture: The storm’snorthofme.AndIalreadyworkedoutit’stravelingwest.SoIshouldbeabletoavoiditbyheadingsouthaways,lettingitpassmeto

thenorth,thenheadingeastagain.Finally,somegoodnews!SoutheastiswhatIwanted.Iwon’tlosemuchtime.Sigh…Ihavetodrivethesamegoddamnedpathathirdtimetomorrow.

LOGENTRY:SOL480

IthinkI’mgettingaheadofthestorm.HavingtraveledalongMarsHighway1allday,I’mbackatmycampsitefrom

yesterday.Tomorrow, I’ll finallymake realheadwayagain. Iwasdonedrivingand had the camp set up by noon. The efficiency loss here is 15.6 percent.Comparedtothe17percentlossatyesterday’scamp,thismeansIcanoutrunthestormaslongasIkeepheadingsouth.Hopefully.Thestormisprobablycircular.Theyusuallyare.ButIcould justbedriving

intoanalcove. If that’s thecase, I’m just fuckingdead,okay?There’sonlysomuchIcando.I’llknowsoonenough.Ifthestormiscircular,Ishouldgetbetterandbetter

efficiency everydayuntil I’mback to 100percent.Once I reach100percent,thatmeansI’mcompletelysouthof thestormandIcanstartgoingeastagain.We’llsee.Iftherewerenostorm,I’dbegoingdirectlysoutheasttowardmygoal.Asit

is,goingonlysouth,I’mnotnearlyasfast.I’mtraveling90kilometersperdayasusual,butIonlyget37kilometersclosertoSchiaparellibecausePythagorasisadick.Idon’tknowwhenI’ll finallyclear thestormandbeable tobeeline toSchiaparelli again. But one thing’s for sure:My plan to arrive on Sol 494 isboned.Sol549.That’swhentheycomeforme.IfImissit,I’llspendtherestofmy

veryshortlifehere.AndIstillhavetheMAVtomodifybeforethen,too.Sheesh.

LOGENTRY:SOL482

AirDay.Atimeforrelaxationandspeculation.For relaxation, I read eighty pages ofAgathaChristie’sEvilUnder the Sun

courtesy of Johanssen’s digital book collection. I think LindaMarshall is themurderer.Asforspeculation,IspeculatedonwhenthehellI’llgetpastthisstorm.I’m still going due south every day; and still dealing with efficiency loss

(though I’m keeping ahead of it). Every day of this crap I’m only getting 37kilometersclosertotheMAVinsteadof90.Pissingmeoff.IconsideredskippingtheAirDay.IcouldgoanothercoupleofdaysbeforeI

ranoutof oxygen, andgetting away from the storm ispretty important.But Idecidedagainstit.I’mfarenoughaheadofthestormthatIcanaffordonedayofnomovement.AndIdon’tknowifacouplemoredayswouldhelp.Whoknowshowfarsouththestormgoes?Well, NASA probably knows. And the news stations back on Earth are

probably showing it. And there’s probably a website like www.watch-mark-watney-die.com. So there’s like a hundred million people or so who knowexactlyhowfarsouthitgoes.ButI’mnotoneofthem.

LOGENTRY:SOL484

Finally!I am FINALLY past the god damned storm. Today’s power regenwas 100

percent.Nomore dust in the air.With the stormmoving perpendicular tomydirection of travel, itmeans I’m south of the southernmost point of the cloud(presumingit’sacircularstorm.Ifit’snot,thenfuck).Starting tomorrow, I can go directly toward Schiaparelli. Which is good,

’causeIlostalotoftime.Iwent540kilometersduesouthwhileavoidingthatstorm.I’mcatastrophicallyoffcourse.Mindyou,ithasn’tbeenthatbad.I’mwellintoTerraMeridianinow,andthe

drivingisalittleeasierherethantherugged,ass-kickingterrainofArabiaTerra.Schiaparelli is almost due east, and ifmy sextant andPhobos calculations arecorrect,I’vegotanother1030kilometerstogetthere.Accounting for Air Days and presuming 90 kilometers of travel per sol, I

should arrive on Sol 498. Not too bad, really. TheNearly-Mark-Killin’ stormonlyendedupdelayingmebyfoursols.I’llstillhaveforty-foursolstodowhateverMAVmodificationsNASAhasin

mind.

LOGENTRY:SOL487

I have an interesting opportunity here. And by “opportunity” I meanOpportunity.Igotpushedsofaroffcourse,I’mactuallynotfarfromtheMarsexploration

roverOpportunity.It’sabout300kilometersaway.Icouldgetthereinaboutfoursols.Damnit’stempting.IfIcouldgetOpportunity’sradioworking,I’dbeintouch

with humanity again.NASAwould continually tellmemy exact position andbest course,warnme if another stormwas on itsway, and generally be therewatchingoverme.ButifI’mbeinghonest,that’snottherealreasonI’minterested.I’msickof

beingonmyown,damnit!OnceIgotPathfinderworking,IgotusedtotalkingtoEarth.AllthatwentawaybecauseIleanedadrillagainstthewrongtable,andnowI’maloneagain.Icouldendthatinjustfoursols.But it’s an irrational, stupid thought. I’m only eleven sols away from the

MAV.Why go out ofmyway to dig up another broken-ass rover to use as amakeshift radio when I’ll have a brand-new, fully functional communicationssystemwithinacoupleofweeks?So,while it’s really tempting that I’mwithinstrikingrangeofanother rover

(man, we really littered this planet with them, didn’t we?), it’s not the smartmove.Besides,I’vedefiledenoughfuturehistoricalsitesfornow.

LOGENTRY:SOL492

Ineedtoputsomethoughtintothebedroom.Rightnow,IcanonlyhaveitsetupwhenI’minsidetherover.Itattachesto

theairlock,soIcan’tgetoutifit’sthere.Duringmyroadtripthatdoesn’tmatter,becauseIhavetofurliteverydayanyway.ButonceIgettotheMAV,Iwon’thave to drive around anymore. Each decompress/recompress of the bedroomstressestheseams(IlearnedthatlessonthehardwaywhentheHabblewup),soit’sbestifIcanfindawaytoleaveitout.Holyshit.IjustrealizedIactuallybelieveI’llgettotheMAV.SeewhatIdid

there? I casually talked aboutwhat I’ll do after I get to theMAV.Like itwasnothing.Nobigdeal. I’mjustgoingtopopover toSchiaparelliandhangwiththeMAVthere.Nice.Anyway,Idon’thaveanotherairlock.I’vegotoneontheroverandoneonthe

trailerandthat’sit.They’refirmlyfixedinplace,soit’snotlikeIcandetachoneandattachittothebedroom.ButIcansealthebedroomentirely.Idon’tevenhavetodoanyhatchetjobs

onit.TheairlockattachmentpointhasaflapIcanunrollandsealtheopeningwith. Remember, I stole the airlock attachment from a pop-tent, which is anemergencyfeatureforpressurelosswhileintherover.It’dbeprettyuselessifitcouldn’tsealitselfoff.Unfortunately,asanemergencydevice,itwasneverintendedtobereusable.

The ideawas that people seal themselves in the pop-tent, then the rest of thecrewdrivestowherevertheyareintheotherroverandrescuesthem.Thecrewofthegoodroverdetachesthepop-tentfromthebreachedroverandreattachesitto theirs. Then they cut through the seal from their side to recover theircrewmates.Tomakesurethiswouldalwaysbeanoption,missionrulesdictatednomore

than threepeople couldbe in a rover at once, andboth rovershad tobe fullyfunctionalorwecouldn’tuseeither.Sohere’smybrilliantplan: Iwon’tuse thebedroomasabedroomanymore

once I get to the MAV. I’ll use it to house the oxygenator and atmosphericregulator.ThenI’llusethetrailerasmybedroom.Neat,eh?Thetrailerhastonsofspace.Iputashitloadofworkintomakingthathappen.

Theballoongivesplentyofheadroom.Notalotoffloorspace,butstilllotsof

verticalarea.Also,thebedroomhasseveralvalveaperturesinitscanvas.IhavetheHab’s

design to thank for that.Thecanvas I stole from ithasvalveapertures (triple-redundantones,actually).NASAwantedtomakesuretheHabcouldberefilledfromtheoutsideifnecessary.Intheend,I’llhavethebedroomsealedwiththeoxygenatorandatmospheric

regulator inside. It’ll be attached to the trailer via hoses to share the sameatmosphere,andI’ll runapower line throughoneof thehoses.Theroverwillserveasstorage(becauseIwon’tneedtoget to thedrivingcontrolsanymore),and the trailerwillbecompletelyempty.ThenI’llhaveapermanentbedroom.I’llevenbeabletouseitasaworkshopforwhateverMAVmodificationsIneedtodoonpartsthatcanfitthroughthetrailer’sairlock.Ofcourse,iftheatmosphericregulatororoxygenatorhaveproblems,I’llneed

tocutintothebedroomtogettothem.ButI’vebeenhere492solsandthey’veworkedfinethewholetime,soI’lltakethatrisk.

LOGENTRY:SOL497

I’llbeattheentrancetoSchiaparellitomorrow!Presuming nothing goes wrong, that is. But hey, everything else has gone

smoothlythismission,right?(Thatwassarcasm.)Today’sanAirDay,andforonce,Idon’twantit.I’msoclosetoSchiaparelli,

Icantasteit.Iguessitwouldtastelikesand,mostly,butthat’snotthepoint.Ofcourse,thatwon’tbetheendofthetrip.It’lltakeanotherthreesolstoget

fromtheentrancetotheMAV,buthotdamn!I’malmostthere!I think I can even see the rim of Schiaparelli. It’s way the hell off in the

distanceanditmightjustbemyimagination.It’s62kilometersaway,soifI’mseeingit,I’monlyjustbarelyseeingit.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-napkinmath,andtheslopeshouldbeprettysafe.Theelevationchangefromtherimtothe basin is 1.5 kilometers, and the ramp is at least 45 kilometers long. Thatmakesforatwo-degreegrade.Noproblem.Tomorrownight,I’llsinktoanall-newlow!Lemmerephrasethat.…Tomorrownight,I’llbeatrockbottom!No,thatdoesn’tsoundgoodeither.…Tomorrownight,I’llbeinGiovanniSchiaparelli’sfavoritehole!Okay,IadmitI’mjustplayingaroundnow.

•••

FOR MILLIONSof years, the rimof the crater hadbeenunder constant attack fromwind. Iteroded therockycrest thewaya rivercuts throughamountainrange.Aftereons,itfinallybreachedtheedge.Thehigh-pressurezonecreatedbythewindnowhadanavenuetodrain.The

breachwidenedmore andmorewith eachpassingmillennium.As itwidened,dustandsandparticlescarriedalongwiththeattacksettledinthebasinbelow.Eventually,abalancepointwasreached.Thesandhadpileduphighenough

to be flush with the land outside the crater. It no longer built upward but

outward. The slope lengthened until a new balance point was reached, onedefinedbythecomplexinteractionsofcountlesstinyparticlesandtheirabilitytomaintainanangledshape.EntranceRamphadbeenborn.Theweatherbroughtdunesanddesertterrain.Nearbycraterimpactsbrought

rocksandboulders.Theshapebecameuneven.Gravitydiditswork.Therampcompressedovertime.Butitdidnotcompress

evenly.Differingdensitiesshrunkatdifferentrates.Someareasbecamehardasrockwhileothersremainedassoftastalc.While providing a small average slope into the crater, the ramp itself was

ruggedandbitterlyuneven.On reachingEntranceCrater, the lone inhabitant ofMars turnedhis vehicle

towardtheSchiaparelliBasin.Thedifficultterrainoftherampwasunexpected,butitlookednoworsethanotherterrainheroutinelynavigated.Hewent around the smaller dunes and carefully crested the larger ones.He

tookcarewitheveryturn,everyriseorfallinelevation,andeveryboulderinhispath.Hethoughtthrougheverycourseandconsideredallalternatives.Butitwasn’tenough.The rover,whiledescendingdowna seeminglyordinary slope,droveoff an

invisibleridge.Thedense,hardsoilsuddenlygavewaytosoftpowder.Withtheentiresurfacecoveredbyatleastfivecentimetersofdust, therewerenovisualhintstothesuddenchange.Therover’sleftfrontwheelsank.Thesuddentiltbroughttherightrearwheel

completelyofftheground.Thisinturnputmoreweightontheleftrearwheel,whichslippedfromitsprecariouspurchaseintothepowderaswell.Before the traveler could react, the rover rolled onto its side.As it did, the

solarcellsneatlystackedontheroofflewoffandscatteredlikeadroppeddeckofcards.The trailer, attached to the roverwitha towclamp,wasdraggedalong.The

torsionontheclampsnappedthestrongcompositelikeabrittletwig.Thehosesconnectingthetwovehiclesalsosnapped.Thetrailerplungedheadlongintothesoftsoilandflippedoverontoitsballoon-roof,shudderingtoanabrupthalt.Theroverwasnotsolucky.Itcontinuedtumblingdownthehill,bouncingthe

traveleraroundlikeclothesinadryer.Aftertwentymeters,thesoftpowdergavewaytomoresolidsandandtherovershudderedtoahalt.Ithadcometorestonitsside.Thevalvesleadingtothenow-missinghoses

had detected the sudden pressure drop and closed. The pressure seal was notbreached.

Thetravelerwasalive,fornow.

CHAPTER24

THEDEPARTMENTheadsstaredatthesatelliteimageontheprojectionscreen.“Jesus,”Mitchsaid.“Whatthehellhappened?”“The rover’s on its side,”Mindy said, pointing to the screen. “The trailer’s

upsidedown.Thoserectanglesscatteredaroundaresolarcells.”Venkatputahandonhischin.“Dowehaveanyinformationonthestateof

theroverpressurevessel?”“Nothingobvious,”Mindysaid.“AnysignsofWatneydoingsomethingaftertheaccident?AnEVAmaybe?”“NoEVA,”Mindy said. “Theweather’s clear. If he’d come out, there’d be

visiblefootsteps.”“Isthistheentirecrashsite?”BruceNgasked.“I think so,”Mindy said. “Up toward the top of the photo,which is north,

thereareordinarywheeltracks.Righthere,”shepointedtoalargedisturbanceinthesoil,“iswhereIthinkthingswentwrong.Judgingbywherethatditchis,I’dsaytheroverrolledandslidfromthere.Youcanseethetrenchitleftbehind.Thetrailerflippedforwardontoitsroof.”“I’mnotsayingeverything’sokay,”Brucesaid,“butIdon’tthinkit’sasbad

asitlooks.”“Goon,”Venkatsaid.“Therover’sdesignedtohandlearoll,”Bruceexplained.“Andifthere’dbeen

pressureloss,there’dbeastarburstpatterninthesand.Idon’tseeanythinglikethat.”“Watneymaystillbehurtinside,”Mitchsaid.“Hecouldhavebangedhishead

orbrokenanarmorsomething.”“Sure,”Brucesaid.“I’mjustsayingtheroverisprobablyokay.”“Whenwasthistaken?”Mindy checked her watch. “We got it seventeen minutes ago. We’ll get

anotherpicinnineminuteswhenMGS4’sorbitbringsitintoview.”“Firstthinghe’lldoisanEVAtoassessdamage,”Venkatsaid.“Mindy,keep

uspostedonanychanges.”

LOGENTRY:SOL498

Hmm.Yeah.Things didn’t go well on the descent into Schiaparelli Basin. To give you

some indicationofhowunwell theywent, I’m reachingup to thecomputer totypethis.Becauseit’sstillmountednearthecontrolpanel,andtheroverisonitsside.Igotbouncedaroundalot,butI’mawell-honedmachineintimesofcrisis.

Assoonastherovertoppled,Icurledintoaballandcowered.That’sthekindofactionheroIam.Itworked,too.’CauseI’mnothurt.Thepressurevesselisintact,sothat’saplus.Thevalvesthatleadtothetrailer

hoses are shut. Probably means the hoses disconnected. And that means thetrailerjunctionsnapped.Wonderful.Lookingaroundtheinteriorhere,Idon’tthinkanythingisbroken.Thewater

tanksstayedsealed.Therearen’tanyvisibleleaksintheairtanks.Thebedroomcameunfolded,and it’sallover theplace,but it’s justcanvas, so itcan’thavegottentoohurt.Thedrivingcontrolsareokay,andthenavcomputeristellingmetheroveris

atan“unacceptablydangeroustilt.”Thanks,Nav!SoIrolled.That’snottheendoftheworld.I’maliveandtherover’sfine.I’m

moreworriedaboutthesolarcellsIprobablyrolledover.Also,sincethetrailerdetached,there’sagoodchanceit’sfuckedup,too.Theballoonroofithasisn’texactly durable. If it popped, the shit inside will have been flung out in alldirectionsandI’llhavetogofindit.That’smycriticallifesupport.Speakingoflifesupport,theroverswitchedovertothelocaltankswhenthe

valvesshut.Goodboy,Rover!Here’saScoobySnack.I’vegottwentylitersofoxygen(enoughtokeepmebreathingforfortydays),

but without the regulator (which is in the trailer) I’m back to chemical CO2

absorption.Ihave312hoursoffiltersleft.PlusIhaveanother171hoursofEVAsuit CO2 filters as well. All told, that gives me 483 hours, which is close totwentysols.SoIhavetimetogetthingsworkingagain.I’mreallydamnclosetotheMAVnow.About220kilometers.I’mnotgoing

to let something like this stop me from getting there. And I don’t need

everything toworkat topformanymore. I justneed therover toworkfor220morekilometersandthelifesupporttoworkforfifty-onemoresols.That’sit.Timetosuitupandlookforthetrailer.

LOGENTRY:SOL498(2)

IhadanEVAandthingsaren’ttoobad.Mindyou,they’renotgood.I trashed three solar cells. They’re under the rover and cracked all to hell.

Theymightstillbeable topissoutafewwatts,butI’mnotholdingoutmuchhope.Luckily, I did come into thiswithoneextra solar cell. I needed twenty-eightformydailyoperationsandIbroughttwenty-nine(fourteenontherover’sroof,sevenonthetrailer’sroof,andeightonthemakeshiftshelvesIinstalledonthesidesofbothvehicles).I tried pushing the rover over, but I wasn’t strong enough. I’ll need to rig

somethingtogetaleverageadvantage.Otherthanbeingonitsside,Idon’tseeanyrealproblems.Well,that’snottrue.Thetowhookisruinedbeyondrepair.Halfofitripped

cleanoff.Fortunately,thetraileralsohasatowhook,soIhaveaspare.The trailer’s in a precarious situation. It’s upside down and sitting on the

inflatedroof.I’mnotsurewhichgodsmileddownonmeandkeptthatballoonfrompopping,butI’mgrateful.Myfirstprioritywillberightingit.Thelongeritputsweightonthatballoon,thelargerthechancesit’llpop.While Iwas out, I collected the twenty-six solar cells that aren’t under the

roverandsetthemuptorechargemybatteries.Mayaswell,right?Sorightnow,Ihaveafewproblemstotackle:First,Ineedtorightthetrailer.

Oratleastgettheweightofftheballoon.Next,Ineedtorighttherover.Finally,Ineedtoreplacetherover’stowhookwiththeoneonthetrailer.Also,IshouldspelloutamessageforNASA.They’reprobablyworried.

•••

MINDYREADtheMorsecodealoud.“ROLLED.FIXINGNOW.”“What?That’sit?”Venkatsaidoverthephone.“That’sallhe said,” she reported,cradling thephoneas she typedoutane-

mailtothelistofinterestedparties.“Just three words? Nothing about his physical health? His equipment? His

supplies?”“Yougotme,”shesaid.“Heleftadetailedstatusreport.Ijustdecidedtolie

fornoreason.”“Funny,”Venkatsaid.“Beasmart-asstoaguysevenlevelsaboveyouatyour

company.Seehowthatworksout.”“Oh no,”Mindy said. “I might lose my job as an interplanetary voyeur? I

guessI’dhavetousemymaster’sdegreeforsomethingelse.”“Irememberwhenyouwereshy.”“I’mspacepaparazzinow.Theattitudecomeswiththejob.”“Yeah,yeah,”Venkatsaid.“Justsendthee-mail.”“Alreadysent.”

LOGENTRY:SOL499

Ihadabusydaytoday,andIgotalotdone.Istartedoutprettysore.Ihadtosleeponthewalloftherover.Thebedroom

won’t work when the airlock is facing up. I did get to use the bedroom,somewhat.Ifoldeditupanduseditasabed.Anyway,sufficeit tosay,thewalloftheroverwasn’tmadeforsleepingon.

ButafteramorningpotatoandVicodin,Iwasfeelingmuchbetter.At first I figuredmy top prioritywas the trailer. Then I changedmymind.

Aftertakingagoodlookatit,IdecidedI’dneverbeabletorightitbymyself.I’dneedtherover.Sotodaywasfocusedongettingtheroverrighted.Ibroughtallmytoolsalongonthistrip,figuringI’dneedthemfortheMAV

modifications.AndalongwiththemIbroughtcabling.OnceIgetsetupattheMAV,my solar cells and batterieswill be in a fixed position. I don’twant tomovetheroveraroundeverytimeIuseadrillonthefarsideoftheMAV.SoIbroughtalltheelectricalcablingIcouldfit.Goodthing,too.Becauseitdoublesasrope.I dug upmy longest cable. It’s the same one I used to power the drill that

destroyedPathfinder.Icallitmy“luckycable.”Ipluggedoneendintothebatteryandtheotherintotheinfamoussampledrill,

thenwalkedoffwiththedrilltofindsolidground.OnceIfoundit,Ikeptgoinguntil I’dgoneas faras theelectrical linewould reach. Idroveaone-meterbithalfameterintoarock,unpluggedthepowerline,andtieditaroundthebaseofthebit.ThenIwentbacktotheroverandtiedoffthecordtotheroof-rackbaronthe

highside.NowIhadalong,tautlinerunningperpendiculartotherover.I walked to the middle of the cord and pulled it laterally. The leverage

advantage on the roverwas huge. I only hoped itwouldn’t break the drill bitbeforeittippedtherover.Ibackedaway,pullingthelinemoreandmore.Somethinghadtogive,andit

wasn’tgoingtobeme.IhadArchimedesonmyside.Theroverfinallytipped.It fell onto itswheels, kicking up a large cloud of soft dust. Itwas a silent

affair.Iwasfarenoughawaythatthethinatmospherehadnohopeofcarryingthesoundtome.

Iuntiedthepowerline,liberatedthedrillbit,andreturnedtotherover.Igaveitafullsystem’scheck.That’saboring-as-helltask,butIhadtodoit.Everysystemandsubsystemwasworkingcorrectly.JPLdidadamngoodjob

makingtheserovers.IfIgetbacktoEarth,I’mbuyingBruceNgabeer.ThoughIguessIshouldbuyalltheJPLguysabeer.BeersforeveryoneifIgetbacktoEarth.Anyway,withtheroverbackonitswheelsitwastimetoworkonthetrailer.

Problemis,Iranoutofdaylight.Remember,I’minacrater.IhadgottenmostofthewaydowntheRampwhenIrolledtherover.Andthe

Ramp isupagainst thewesternedgeof thecrater.So the sunsets reallyearlyfrommypointofview.I’mintheshadowofthewesternwall.Andthatroyallysucks.MarsisnotEarth.Itdoesn’thaveathickatmospheretobendlightandcarry

particles that reflect light aroundcorners. It’sdamnnearavacuumhere.Oncethesunisn’tvisible,I’minthedark.Phobosgivesmesomemoonlight,butnotenoughtoworkwith.Deimosisalittlepieceofcrapthat’snogoodtoanyone.Ihatetoleavethetrailersittingonitsballoonforanothernight,butthere’snot

much else I can do. I figure it’s survived awhole day like that. It’s probablystablefornow.Andhey,withtheroverrighted,Igettousethebedroomagain!It’sthesimple

thingsinlifethatmatter.

LOGENTRY:SOL500

WhenIwokeupthismorning,thetrailerhadn’tpoppedyet.Sothatwasagoodstart.Thetrailerwasabiggerchallengethantherover.Ionlyhadtotiptherover.

I’d need to completely flip the trailer. That requires a lot more force thanyesterday’slittleleveragetrick.Thefirststepwastodrivetherovertonearthetrailer.Thencamethedigging.OhGod,thedigging.Thetrailerwasupsidedown,withitsnosepointeddownhill.Idecidedthebest

way to right itwas to take advantage of the slope and roll the trailer over itsnose.Basicallytomakeitdoasomersaulttolandonitswheels.I canmake this happen by tying off the cable to the rear of the trailer and

towingwiththerover.ButifItriedthatwithoutdiggingaholefirst,thetrailerwouldjustslidealongtheground.Ineededittotipup.Ineededaholeforthenosetofallinto.SoIdugahole.Aholeonemeteracross, threemeterswide,andonemeter

deep.Ittookmefourmiserablehoursofhardlabor,butIgotitdone.Ihoppedintheroveranddroveitdownhill,draggingthetrailerwithme.As

I’dhoped,thetrailernosedintotheholeandtippedup.Fromthere,itfellontoitswheelswithahugeplumeofdust.ThenIsatforamoment,dumbstruckthatmyplanhadactuallyworked.And now I’m out of daylight again. I can’t wait to get out of this damn

shadow.AllIneedisonedayofdrivingtowardtheMAVandI’llbeawayfromthewall.Butfornowit’sanotherearlynight.I’ll spend tonight without the trailer tomanagemy life support. It may be

righted,butIhavenoideaiftheshitinsidestillworks.Theroverstillhasamplesuppliesforme.I’llspendtherestoftheeveningenjoyingapotato.Andby“enjoying”Imean

“hatingsomuchIwanttokillpeople.”

LOGENTRY:SOL501

I started thedaywith somenothin’ tea.Nothin’ tea is easy tomake.First, getsome hot water, then add nothin’. I experimented with potato skin tea a fewweeksago.Thelesssaidaboutthatthebetter.Iventuredintothetrailertoday.Notaneasytask.It’sprettycrampedinthere;

IhadtoleavemyEVAsuitintheairlock.The first thing I noticedwas that itwas really hot inside. It tookme a few

minutestoworkoutwhy.The atmospheric regulator was still in perfect working order, but it had

nothing todo.Withoutbeingconnected to the rover, itno longerhadmyCO2

productiontodealwith.Theatmosphereinthetrailerwasperfect—whychangeanything?Withnoregulationnecessary,theairwasnotbeingpumpedouttotheAREC

forfreeze-separation.Andthus itwasn’tcomingbackinasa liquid inneedofheating.Butremember, theRTGgivesoffheatall thetime.Youcan’tstopit.Sothe

heatjustbuiltup.Eventually,thingsreachedabalancepointwheretheheatbledthroughthehullasfastastheRTGcouldaddit.Ifyou’recurious,thatbalancepointwasasweltering41°C.Ididafulldiagnosticontheregulatorandtheoxygenator,andI’mhappyto

reportbothareworkingperfectly.TheRTG’swatertankwasempty,whichisnosurprise.Ithasanopentop,not

intendedtobeturnedupsidedown.Thefloorofthetrailerhasalotofpuddledwaterthattookmequiteawhiletosopupwithmyjumpsuit.Itoppedthetankoffwith somemorewater froma sealedcontainer that I’d stored in the trailerearlier.Remember, Ineed thatwater tohavesomethingfor thereturningair tobubblethrough.That’smyheatingsystem.But all things considered, it was good news. The critical components are

workingfine,andbothvehiclesarebackontheirwheels.The hoses that connected the rover and trailer were designed well, and

released without breaking. I simply snapped them back into place and thevehiclesweresharinglifesupportagain.Theoneremainingthingtofixwasthetowhook.Itwasabsolutelyruined.It

took the full forceof thecrash.But as I suspected, the trailer’s towhookwasunscathed.SoI transferredit totheroverandreconnectedthetwovehiclesfor

travel.All told, that little fender bender cost me four sols. But now I’m back in

action!Sortof.WhatifIrunintoanotherpowderpit?Igotluckythistime.NexttimeImight

notgetoffsoeasy.Ineedawaytoknowifthegroundinfrontofmeissafe.Atleast for the duration of my time on the Ramp. Once I’m in the SchiaparelliBasinproper,IcancountonthenormalsandyterrainI’musedto.IfIcouldhaveanything,itwouldbearadiotoaskNASAthesafepathdown

theRamp.Well,ifIcouldhaveanything,itwouldbeforthegreen-skinnedyetbeautifulQueen ofMars to rescueme so she can learnmore about thisEarththingcalled“lovemaking.”It’sbeenalongtimesinceI’veseenawoman.Justsayin’.Anyway, to ensure I don’t crash again, I’ll—Seriously…nowomen in like,

years. I don’t ask for much. Believe me, even back on Earth abotanist/mechanical engineer doesn’t exactly have ladies lined up at the door.Butstill,c’mon.Anyway.I’lldriveslower.Like…acrawl.Thatshouldgivemeenoughtimeto

reactifonewheelstartstosink.Also,thelowerspeedwillgivememoretorque,makingitlesslikelyI’lllosetraction.UptillnowI’vebeendriving25kph,soI’mgoingtocutthatto5kph.I’m

stilltowardthetopoftheRamp,butthewholethingisonly45kilometers.Icantakemytimeandgetsafelytothebottominabouteighthours.I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m already out of daylight again today. That’s another

bonus:OnceIcleartheramp,IcanstartbeeliningtowardtheMAV,whichwilltake me away from the crater wall. I’ll be back to enjoying the entire day’ssunlightinsteadofjusthalfofit.IfIgetbacktoEarth,I’llbefamous,right?Afearlessastronautwhobeatall

theodds,right?Ibetwomenlikethat.Moremotivationtostayalive.

•••

“SO, IT looks like he’s fixed everything,” Mindy explained. “And his messagetodaywas‘ALLBETTERNOW,’soIguesshe’sgoteverythingworking.”

Shesurveyedthesmilingfacesinthemeetingroom.“Awesome,”Mitchsaid.“Greatnews.”Bruce’svoicecameinthroughthespeakerphone.Venkat leaned forward to thephone. “Howare theMAVmodificationplans

coming,Bruce?IsJPLgoingtohavethatproceduresoon?”“We’reworkingaroundtheclockonit,”Brucesaid.“We’repastmostofthe

bighurdles.Workingoutthedetailsnow.”“Good,good,”Venkatsaid.“AnysurprisesIshouldknowabout?”“Um…,”Brucesaid.“Yeah,afew.Thismightnotbethebestvenueforit.I’ll

beback inHoustonwith theprocedure in adayor two.Wecango through itthen.”“Ominous,”Venkatsaid.“Butokay,we’llpickituplater.”“CanI spread theword?”Annieasked.“It’dbenice toseesomethingother

thantherovercrashsiteonthenewstonight.”“Definitely,”Venkatsaid.“It’llbenicetohavesomegoodnewsforachange.

Mindy,howlonguntilhegetstotheMAV?”“Athisusualrateof90kilometerspersol,”Mindysaid,“heshouldgetthere

onSol504.Sol505ifhetakeshistime.Healwaysdrivesintheearlymorning,finishingaroundnoon.”Shecheckedanapplicationonherlaptop.“NoononSol504willbe11:41a.m.thisWednesdayhereinHouston.NoononSol505willbe12:21p.m.onThursday.”“Mitch,who’shandlingAres4MAVcommunications?”“TheAres3MissionControlteam,”Mitchreplied.“It’llbeinControlRoom

2.”“Iassumeyou’llbethere?”“BetyourassI’llbethere.”“SowillI.”

LOGENTRY:SOL502

Every Thanksgiving, my family used to drive from Chicago to Sandusky, aneight-hourdrive. It’swhereMom’ssister lived.Dadalwaysdrove,andhewastheslowest,mostcautiousdriverwhoevertookthewheel.Seriously. He drove like he was taking a driver’s test. Never exceeded the

speed limit,alwayshadhishandsat tenand two,adjustedmirrorsbeforeeachouting,younameit.It was infuriating.We’d be on the freeway, cars blowing by left and right.

Someofthemwouldblaretheirhornsbecause,honestly,drivingthespeedlimitmakesyouaroadhazard.Iwantedtogetoutandpush.Ifeltthatwayalldamndaytoday.Fivekphisliterallyawalkingpace.AndI

drovethatspeedforeighthours.But the slow speed ensured that I wouldn’t fall into anymore powder pits

along theway.And of course I didn’t encounter any. I could have driven fullspeedandhadnoproblems.Butbettersafethansorry.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 gofurther, I still have 15percent battery power or so, but Iwant to get asmuchdaylightonmysolarcellsasIcan.I’mintheSchiaparelliBasinatlast!Farfromthecraterwall,too.Igetafull

dayofsunlighteverydayfromnowon.Idecideditwastimeforaveryspecialoccasion.Iatethemealpacklabeled

“SurvivedSomethingThatShouldHaveKilledMe.”Ohmygod,Iforgothowgoodrealfoodtastes.Withluck,I’llgettoeat“Arrival”inafewsols.

LOGENTRY:SOL503

I didn’t get as much recharge as I usually would yesterday. Because of myextendeddrivingtime,Ionlygotupto70percentbeforenightfell.Sotoday’sdrivingwasabbreviated.I got 63kilometers before I had to campout again.But I don’t evenmind.

BecauseI’monly148kilometersfromtheMAV.ThatmeansI’llgettherethesolaftertomorrow.Holyhell,I’mreallygoingtomakeit!

LOGENTRY:SOL504

Holyshit,thisisawesome!Holyshit!Holyshit!Okaycalm.Calm.I made 90 kilometers today. By my estimate, I’m 50 kilometers from the

MAV.Ishouldgettheresometimetomorrow.I’mexcitedaboutthat,buthere’swhatI’mreallystokedabout:IcaughtablipfromtheMAV!NASA has the MAV broadcasting the Ares 3 Hab homing signal. Why

wouldn’tthey?Itmakesperfectsense.TheMAVisasleek,perfectlyfunctionalmachine,readytodowhatit’stold.AndtheyhaveitpretendingtobetheAres3Hab,somyroverwillseethesignalandtellmewhereitis.Thatisanexceptionallygoodidea!Iwon’thavetowanderaroundlookingfor

thething.I’mgoingstraighttoit.Ionlycaughtablip. I’llgetmoreas Igetcloser. It’s strange to think thata

sanddunewillstopmefromhearingwhattheMAVhastosaywhenitcantalktoEarthnoproblem.TheMAVhasthreeredundantmethodsofcommunicatingwithEarth,butthey’reallextremelydirectedandaredesignedforline-of-sightcommunication.Andtherearen’tanysanddunesbetweenitandEarthwhentheytalk.Somehowtheymessedwith things tomakea radialsignal,howeverweak it

maybe.AndIheardit!Mymessagefor thedaywas“GOTBEACONSIGNAL.”If I’dhadenough

rocks,Iwouldhaveadded,“AWESOMEIDEA!!!”Butit’sareallysandyarea.

•••

THEMAVwaitedinsouthwesternSchiaparelli.Itstoodanimpressivetwenty-sevenmeterstall,itsconicalbodygleaminginthemiddaysun.The rover crestedanearbydunewith the trailer in tow. It slowed for a few

moments,thencontinuedtowardtheshipattopspeed.Itcametoastoptwentymetersaway.Thereitremainedfortenminuteswhiletheastronautinsidesuitedup.Hestumbledexcitedlyoutoftheairlock,fallingtothegroundthenscrambling

to his feet. Beholding the MAV, he gestured to it with both arms, as if indisbelief.

Heleapedintotheairseveraltimes,armsheldhighwithfistsclenched.Thenhekneltononekneeandfist-pumpedrepeatedly.Runningtothespacecraft,hehuggedLandingStrutB.Afterafewmoments,

hebrokeofftheembracetoperformanotherroundofleapingcelebrations.Nowfatigued,theastronautstoodwitharmsakimbo,lookingupatthesleek

linesoftheengineeringmarvelbeforehim.Climbing the ladder on the landing stage, he reached the ascent stage and

enteredtheairlock.Hesealedthedoorbehindhim.

CHAPTER25

LOGENTRY:SOL505

Ifinallymadeit!I’mattheMAV!Well,rightthissecond,I’mbackintherover.IdidgointotheMAVtodoa

systems check and boot-up. I had to keep my EVA suit on the whole timebecausethere’snolifesupportintherejustyet.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. Itdoesn’t bring air along.Whywould it? That’s a needlessweightwhen you’llhaveaHabfullofairrightnextdoor.I’mguessing folksatNASAarepoppingchampagne rightnowandsending

melotsofmessages.I’llreadtheminabit.Firstthingsfirst:GettheMAVsomelifesupport.ThenI’llbeabletoworkinsidecomfortably.AndthenI’llhaveaboringconversationwithNASA.Well, thecontentmay

beinteresting,butthefourteen-minutetransmissiontimebetweenhereandEarthwillbeabitdull.

•••

[13:07]HOUSTON:CongratulationsfromallofushereatMissionControl!Welldone!What’syourstatus?[13:21]MAV:Thanks!Nohealthorphysicalproblems.Theroverandtraileraregettingprettywornout,butstill

functional.Oxygenatorandregulatorbothworkingfine.Ididn’tbringthewaterreclaimer.Justbroughtthewater.Plentyofpotatoesleft.I’mgoodtolasttill549.

[13:36]HOUSTON:Gladtohearit.HermesisstillontrackforaSol549flyby.Asyouknow,theMAVwillneedtolosesomeweighttomaketheintercept.We’regoingtogetyouthoseprocedureswithintheday.Howmuchwaterdoyouhave?Whatdidyoudowithurine?

[13:50]MAV:Ihave550litersofremainingwater.I’vebeendumpingurineoutsidealongtheway.[14:05]HOUSTON:Preserveallwater.Don’tdoanymoreurinedumps.Storeitsomewhere.Turntherover’sradioon

andleaveiton.WecancontactitthroughtheMAV.

•••

BRUCETRUDGEDintoVenkat’sofficeandunceremoniouslyploppeddowninachair.Hedroppedhisbriefcaseandlethisarmshanglimp.“Haveagoodflight?”Venkatasked.“Ionlyhaveapassingmemoryofwhatsleepis,”Brucesaid.“Soisitready?”Venkatasked.

“Yes,it’sready.Butyou’renotgoingtolikeit.”“Goon.”Brucesteeledhimselfandstood,pickinguphisbriefcase.Hepulledabooklet

from it. “Bear in mind, this is the end result of thousands of hours of work,testing,andlateralthinkingbyallthebestguysatJPL.”“I’msureitwashardtotrimdownashipthat’salreadydesignedtobeaslight

aspossible,”Venkatsaid.BruceslidthebookletacrossthedesktoVenkat.“Theproblemistheintercept

velocity.TheMAVisdesignedtogettolowMarsorbit,whichonlyrequires4.1kps.ButtheHermesflybywillbeat5.8kps.”Venkatflippedthroughthepages.“Caretosummarize?”“First,we’regoingtoaddfuel.TheMAVmakesitsownfuelfromtheMartian

atmosphere,butit’slimitedbyhowmuchhydrogenithas.Itbroughtenoughtomake19,397kilogramsoffuel,asitwasdesignedtodo.Ifwecangiveitmorehydrogen,itcanmakemore.”“Howmuchmore?”“For every kilogram of hydrogen, it can make thirteen kilograms of fuel.

Watneyhasfivehundredandfiftylitersofwater.We’llhavehimelectrolyzeittogetsixtykilogramsofhydrogen.”Brucereachedoverthedeskandflippedafewpages,pointingtoadiagram.“Thefuelplantcanmakesevenhundredandeightykilogramsoffuelfromthat.”“Ifheelectrolyzeshiswater,what’llhedrink?”“Heonlyneeds fifty liters for the timehehas left.Andahumanbodyonly

borrows water. We’ll have him electrolyze his urine, too. We need all thehydrogenwecangetourhandson.”“Isee.Andwhatdoessevenhundredandeightykilogramsoffuelbuyus?”

Venkatasked.“Itbuysus300kilogramsofpayload.It’sallaboutfuelversuspayload.The

MAV’slaunchweightisover12,600kilograms.Evenwiththebonusfuel,we’llneedtoget thatdownto7,300kilograms.Sotherestof thisbooklet ishowtoremoveover5,000kilogramsfromtheship.”Venkatleanedback.“Walkmethroughit.”Bruce pulled another copy of the booklet from his briefcase. “There were

somegimmesrightoffthebat.ThedesignpresumesfivehundredkilogramsofMartian soil and rock samples.Obviouslywewon’t do that.Also, there’s justone passenger instead of six. That saves five hundred kilograms when you

consider theirweightplus their suits andgear.Andwecan lose theother fiveaccelerationchairs.Andofcourse,we’llremoveallnonessentialgear—themedkit,toolkit,internalharnessing,straps,andanythingelsethatisn’tnaileddown.Andsomestuffthatis.“Nextup,”hecontinued,“We’reditchingall lifesupport.Thetanks,pumps,

heaters,airlines,CO2absorptionsystem,eventheinsulationontheinnersideofthehull.Wedon’tneedit.We’llhaveWatneywearhisEVAsuitforthewholetrip.”“Won’tthatmakeitawkwardforhimtousethecontrols?”Venkatasked.“Hewon’tbeusing them,”Brucesaid.“MajorMartinezwillpilot theMAV

remotelyfromHermes.It’salreadydesignedforremotepiloting.Itwasremotelylanded,afterall.”“Whatifsomethinggoeswrong?”Venkatasked.“Martinezisthebesttrainedpilot,”Brucesaid.“Ifthereisanemergency,he’s

theguyyouwantcontrollingtheship.”“Hmm,”Venkatsaidcautiously.“We’veneverhadamannedshipcontrolled

remotelybefore.Butokay,goon.”“SinceWatneywon’tbeflyingtheship,”Brucecontinued,“hewon’tneedthe

controls.We’llditchthecontrolpanelsandallthepoweranddatalinesthatleadtothem.”“Wow,”Venkatsaid.“We’rereallyguttingthisthing.”“I’mjustgettingstarted,”Brucesaid.“Thepowerneedswillbedramatically

reducednowthatlifesupportisgone,sowe’lldumpthreeofthefivebatteriesand the auxiliary power system. The orbital maneuvering system has threeredundant thrusters. We’ll get rid of those. Also, the secondary and tertiarycommsystemscango.”“Wait, what?” Venkat said, shocked. “You’re going to have a remote-

controlledascentwithnobackupcommsystems?”“Nopoint,”Brucesaid.“Ifthecommsystemgoesoutduringascent,thetime

ittakestoreacquirewillbetoolongtodoanygood.Thebackupsdon’thelpus.”“Thisisgettingreallyrisky,Bruce.”Bruce sighed. “I know.There’s just no otherway.And I’mnot even to the

nastystuffyet.”Venkatrubbedhisforehead.“Byallmeans,tellmethenastystuff.”“We’llremovethenoseairlock,thewindows,andHullPanelNineteen.”Venkatblinked.“You’retakingthefrontoftheshipoff?”

“Sure,”Bruce said. “Thenose airlock alone is fourhundredkilograms.Thewindows are pretty damn heavy, too. And they’re connected by Hull PanelNineteen,somayaswelltakethat,too.”“Sohe’sgoingtolaunchwithabigholeinthefrontoftheship?”“We’llhavehimcoveritwithHabcanvas.”“Habcanvas?Foralaunchtoorbit!?”Bruce shrugged. “The hull’s mostly there to keep the air in. Mars’s

atmosphereissothinyoudon’tneedalotofstreamlining.Bythetimetheship’sgoing fast enough for air resistance tomatter, it’ll behigh enough that there’spracticallynoair.We’verunallthesimulations.Shouldbegood.”“You’resendinghimtospaceunderatarp.”“Prettymuch,yeah.”“Likeahastilyloadedpickuptruck.”“Yeah.CanIgoon?”“Sure,can’twait.”“We’ll also have him remove the back panel of the pressure vessel. It’s the

onlyotherpanelhecanremovewiththetoolsonhand.Also,we’regettingridofthe auxiliary fuel pump. Sad to see it go, but it weighs too much for itsusefulness.Andwe’renixingaStageOneengine.”“Anengine?”“Yeah.TheStageOneboosterworksfineifoneenginegoesout.It’llsaveus

a huge amount of weight. Only during the Stage One ascent, but still. Prettygoodfuelsavings.”Brucefellsilent.“Thatit?”Venkatasked.“Yeah.”Venkatsighed.“You’veremovedmostofthesafetybackups.What’sthisdoto

theestimatedoddsoffailure?”“It’saboutfourpercent.”“JesusChrist,”Venkat said.“Normallywe’dneverevenconsider something

thatrisky.”“It’s all we’ve got, Venk,” Bruce said. “We’ve tested it all out and run

simulationsgalore.Weshouldbeokayifeverythingworksthewayit’ssupposedto.”“Yeah.Great,”Venkatsaid.

•••

[08:41]MAV:Youfuckingkiddingme?[09:55]HOUSTON:Admittedly,theyareveryinvasivemodifications,buttheyhavetobedone.Theproceduredocwe

senthasinstructionsforcarryingouteachofthesestepswithtoolsyouhaveonhand.Also,you’llneedtostartelectrolyzingwatertogetthehydrogenforthefuelplant.We’llsendyouproceduresforthatshortly.

[09:09]MAV:You’resendingmeintospaceinaconvertible.[09:24]HOUSTON:TherewillbeHabcanvascoveringtheholes.ItwillprovideenoughaerodynamicsinMars’s

atmosphere.[09:38]MAV:Soit’saragtop.Muchbetter.

LOGENTRY:SOL506

Onthewayhere,inmycopiousfreetime,Idesigneda“workshop.”IfiguredI’dneed space towork on stuffwithout having towear an EVA suit. I devised abrilliantplanwherebythecurrentbedroomwouldbecomethenewhomeoftheregulator and the oxygenator, and the now-empty trailer would become myworkshop.It’sastupididea,andI’mnotdoingit.All I need is a pressurized area that I can work in. I somehow convinced

myselfthatthebedroomwasn’tanoptionbecauseit’sahassletogetstuffintoit.Butitwon’tbethatbad.Itattachestotheroverairlock,sothegettingstuffinisgoingtobeannoying.

Bringthestuffintotherover,attachthebedroomtotheairlockfromtheinside,inflateit,bringthestuffintothebedroom.I’llalsohavetoemptythebedroomofalltoolsandequipmenttofolditupanytimeIneedtodoanEVA.Soyeah,it’llbeannoying,butallitcostsmeistime.AndI’mactuallydoing

well on that front. I have forty-three more sols beforeHermes flies by. Andlooking at the procedureNASA has inmind for themodifications, I can takeadvantageoftheMAVitselfasaworkspace.ThelunaticsatNASAhavemedoingallkindsofrapetotheMAV,butIdon’t

havetoopenthehulltilltheend.SothefirstthingI’lldoisclearoutabunchofclutter,likechairsandcontrolpanelsandthelike.Oncethey’reout,I’llhavealotofroomintheretowork.ButIdidn’tdoanything to thesoon-to-be-mutilatedMAVtoday.Todaywas

allaboutsystemchecks.NowthatI’mbackincontactwithNASA,Ihavetogobacktobeingall“safetyfirst.”Strangely,NASAdoesn’thavetotalfaithinmykludged-togetherroverormymethodofpilingeverythingintothetrailer.Theyhadmedoafullsystemscheckoneverysinglecomponent.Everything’sstillworkingfine, thoughit’swearingdown.Theregulatorand

theoxygenatorareatless-than-peakefficiency(tosaytheleast),andthetrailerleakssomeaireveryday.Notenough tocauseproblems,but it’snotaperfectseal.NASA’sprettyuncomfortablewithit,butwedon’thaveanyotheroptions.Then, theyhadme run a full diagnosticon theMAV.That’s inmuchbetter

shape. Everything’s sleek and pristine and perfectly functional. I’d almostforgottenwhatnewhardwareevenlookslike.PityI’mgoingtotearitapart.

•••

“YOUKILLEDWatney,”Lewissaid.“Yeah,”Martinez said, scowling at hismonitor. Thewords “Collisionwith

Terrain”blinkedaccusingly.“Ipulledanastytrickonhim,”Johanssensaid.“Igavehimamalfunctioning

altitude readout and made Engine Three cut out too early. It’s a deadlycombination.”“Shouldn’thavebeenamissionfailure,”Martinezsaid.“Ishouldhavenoticed

thereadoutwaswrong.Itwaswayoff.”“Don’tsweatit,”Lewissaid.“That’swhywedrill.”“Aye,Commander,”Martinezsaid.Hefurrowedhisbrowandfrownedatthe

screen.Lewiswaitedforhimtosnapoutofit.Whenhedidn’t,sheputahandonhis

shoulder.“Don’tbeatyourselfup,”shesaid.“Theyonlygaveyoutwodaysofremote

launchtraining.Itwasonlysupposedtohappenifweabortedbeforelanding;acut-our-losses scenario where we’d launch the MAV to act as a satellite. Itwasn’tmission-criticalsotheydidn’tdrillyoutoohardonit.NowthatMark’slifedependsonit,you’vegotthreeweekstogetitright,andIhavenodoubtyoucandoit.”“Aye,Commander,”Martinezsaid,softeninghisscowl.“Resettingthesim,”Johanssensaid.“Anythingspecificyouwanttotry?”“Surpriseme,”Martinezsaid.Lewisleftthecontrolroomandmadeherwaytothereactor.Assheclimbed

“up”theladdertothecenteroftheship,thecentripetalforceonherdiminishedtozero.Vogellookedupfromacomputerconsole.“Commander?”“How are the engines?” she asked, grabbing awall-mounted handle to stay

attachedtotheslowlyturningroom.“Allworkingwithintolerance,”Vogelsaid.“Iamnowdoingadiagnosticon

thereactor.IamthinkingthatJohanssenisbusywiththelaunchingtraining.SoperhapsIdothisdiagnosticforher.”“Goodidea,”Lewissaid.“Andhow’sourcourse?”“Alliswell,”Vogelsaid.“Noadjustmentsnecessary.Wearestillontrackto

plannedtrajectorywithinfourmeters.”

“Keepmepostedifanythingchanges.”“Ja,Commander.”Floatingtotheothersideof thecore,Lewistooktheotherladderout,again

gaininggravityasshewent“down.”Shemadeherwayto theAirlock2readyroom.Beckheldacoilofmetalwire inonehandandapairofworkgloves in the

other.“Heya,Commander.What’sup?”“I’dliketoknowyourplanforrecoveringMark.”“Easyenoughiftheinterceptisgood,”Becksaid.“Ijustfinishedattachingall

thetetherswehaveintoonelongline.It’stwohundredandfourteenmeterslong.I’llhavetheMMUpackon,somovingaroundwillbeeasy.Icangetgoinguptoaroundtenmeterspersecondsafely.Anymore,andIriskbreakingthetetherifIcan’tstopintime.”“OnceyougettoMark,howfastarelativevelocitycanyouhandle?”“IcangrabtheMAVeasilyatfivemeterspersecond.Tenmeterspersecond

iskindoflikejumpingontoamovingtrain.AnythingmorethanthatandImightmiss.”“So, including theMMUsafe speed,weneed to get the shipwithin twenty

meterspersecondofhisvelocity.”“Andtheintercepthastobewithintwohundredandfourteenmeters,”Beck

said.“Prettynarrowmarginoferror.”“We’ve got a lot of leeway,” Lewis said. “The launch will be fifty-two

minutesbeforetheintercept,andittakestwelveminutes.AssoonasMark’sS2enginecutsout,we’llknowourinterceptpointandvelocity.Ifwedon’tlikeit,we’ll have forty minutes to correct. Our engine’s twomillimeters per secondmay not seem like much, but in forty minutes it can move us up to 5.7kilometers.”“Good,”Becksaid.“Andtwohundredandfourteenmetersisn’tahardlimit,

perse.”“Yesitis,”Lewissaid.“Nah,”Becksaid.“IknowI’mnotsupposedtogountethered,butwithoutmy

leashIcouldgetwayoutthere—”“Notanoption.”Lewissaid.“Butwecoulddoubleoreventripleoursafeinterceptrange—”“We’redonetalkingaboutthis,”Lewissaidsharply.“Aye,Commander.”

LOGENTRY:SOL526

Therearen’tmanypeoplewhocansaythey’vevandalizedathree-billion-dollarspacecraft,butI’moneofthem.I’vebeenpullingcriticalhardwareoutoftheMAVleftandright.It’sniceto

know thatmy launch toorbitwon’thaveanypeskybackup systemsweighingmedown.First thing I didwas remove the small stuff. Then came the things I could

disassemble,likethecrewseats,severalofthebackupsystems,andthecontrolpanels.I’mnot improvising anything. I’m following a script sent byNASA,which

wassetuptomakethingsaseasyaspossible.SometimesImissthedayswhenImadeall thedecisionsmyself.ThenIshakeitoffandrememberI’minfinitelybetteroffwithabunchofgeniusesdecidingwhatIdothanIammakingshitupasIgoalong.Periodically, I suitup,crawl into theairlockwithasmuch junkas Ican fit,

anddumpitoutside.TheareaaroundtheMAVlookslikethesetofSanfordandSon.I learned about Sanford and Son from Lewis’s collection. Seriously, that

womanneedstoseesomeoneaboutherseventiesproblem.

LOGENTRY:SOL529

I’mturningwaterintorocketfuel.It’seasierthanyou’dthink.Separating hydrogen and oxygen only requires a couple of electrodes and

some current. The problem is collecting the hydrogen. I don’t have anyequipmentforpullinghydrogenoutoftheair.Theatmosphericregulatordoesn’tevenknowhow.ThelasttimeIhadtogethydrogenoutoftheair(backwhenIturned the Hab into a bomb) I burned it to turn it into water. Obviously thatwouldbecounterproductive.But NASA thought everything through and gave me a process. First, I

disconnectedtheroverandtrailerfromeachother.Then,whilewearingmyEVAsuit,Idepressurizedthetrailerandback-filleditwithpureoxygenatone-fourthofanatmosphere.ThenIopenedaplasticboxfullofwaterandputacoupleofelectrodesin.That’swhyIneededtheatmosphere.Withoutit,thewaterwouldjustboilimmediatelyandI’dbehangingaroundinasteamyatmosphere.Theelectrolysisseparatedthehydrogenandoxygenfromeachother.Nowthe

trailer was full of even more oxygen and also hydrogen. Pretty dangerous,actually.Then I fired up the atmospheric regulator. I know I just said it doesn’t

recognizehydrogen,butitdoesknowhowtoyankoxygenoutoftheair.Ibrokeallthesafetiesandsetittopull100percentoftheoxygenout.Afteritwasdone,all thatwas left in the trailerwas hydrogen. That’swhy I started outwith anatmosphereofpureoxygen,sotheregulatorcouldseparateitlater.Then I cycled the rover’s airlock with the inner door open. The airlock

thoughtitwasevacuatingitself,butitwasactuallyevacuatingthewholetrailer.Theairwasstoredintheairlock’sholdingtank.Andthereyouhaveit,atankofpurehydrogen.Icarriedtheairlock’sholdingtanktotheMAVandtransferredthecontentsto

theMAV’s hydrogen tanks. I’ve said thismany times before, but: Hurray forstandardizedvalvesystems!Finally,Ifiredupthefuelplant,anditgottoworkmakingtheadditionalfuel

I’dneed.I’ll need to go through this process several more times as the launch date

approaches.I’mevengoingtoelectrolyzemyurine.That’llmakeforapleasantsmellinthetrailer.

IfIsurvivethis,I’lltellpeopleIwaspissingrocketfuel.

•••

[19:22]JOHANSSEN:Hello,Mark.[19:23]MAV:Johanssen!?Holycrap!Theyfinallylettingyoutalktomedirectly?[19:24]JOHANSSEN:Yes,NASAgavetheOKfordirectcommunicationanhourago.We’reonly35light-secondsapart,

sowecantalkinnear-realtime.IjustsetupthesystemandI’mtestingitout.[19:24]MAV:Whattookthemsolongtoletustalk?[19:25]JOHANSSEN:Thepsychteamwasworriedaboutpersonalityconflicts.[19:25]MAV:What?Just’causeyouguysabandonedmeonagodforsakenplanetwithnochanceofsurvival?[19:26]JOHANSSEN:Funny.Don’tmakethatkindofjokewithLewis.[19:27]MAV:Roger.Souh…thanksforcomingbacktogetme.[19:27]JOHANSSEN:It’stheleastwecoulddo.HowistheMAVretrofitgoing?[19:28]MAV:Sofar,sogood.NASAputalotofthoughtintotheprocedures.Theywork.That’snottosaythey’reeasy.I

spentthelast3daysremovingHullPanel19andthefrontwindow.EveninMars-gthey’reheavymotherfuckers.[19:29]JOHANSSEN:Whenwepickyouup,Iwillmakewild,passionatelovetoyou.Prepareyourbody.[19:29]JOHANSSEN:Ididn’ttypethat!ThatwasMartinez!Isteppedawayfromtheconsoleforlike10seconds![19:29]MAV:I’vereallymissedyouguys.

LOGENTRY:SOL543

I’m…done?IthinkI’mdone.Idideverythingon the list.TheMAVisready tofly.Andinsixsols, that’s

justwhatit’lldo.Ihope.It might not launch at all. I did remove an engine, after all. I could have

fuckedupallsortsofthingsduringthatprocess.Andthere’snowaytotesttheascentstage.Onceyoulightit,it’slit.Everythingelse,however,willgothroughtestsfromnowuntillaunch.Some

donebyme,somedoneremotelybyNASA.They’renot tellingmethefailureodds,butI’mguessingthey’rethehighest inhistory.YuriGagarinhadamuchmorereliableandsafeshipthanIdo.AndSovietshipsweredeathtraps.

•••

“ALLRIGHT,”Lewissaid,“tomorrow’sthebigday.”The crew floated in the Rec. They had halted the rotation of the ship in

preparationfortheupcomingoperation.“I’m ready,”Martinez said. “Johanssen threweverything she could atme. I

gotallscenariostoorbit.”“Everythingotherthancatastrophicfailures,”Johanssencorrected.“Well yeah,” Martinez said. “Kind of pointless to simulate an ascent

explosion.Nothingwecando.”“Vogel,”Lewissaid.“How’sourcourse?”“Itisperfect,”Vogelsaid.“Wearewithinonemeterofprojectedpathandtwo

centimeterspersecondofprojectedvelocity.”“Good,”shesaid.“Beck,howaboutyou?”“Everything’sallsetup,Commander,”Becksaid.“Thetethersarelinkedand

spooledinAirlock2.MysuitandMMUarepreppedandready.”“Okay,thebattleplanisprettyobvious,”Lewissaid.Shegrabbedahandhold

on thewall tohalt a slowdrift shehadacquired. “Martinezwill fly theMAV,Johanssenwillsysoptheascent.BeckandVogel,IwantyouinAirlock2with

theouterdooropenbeforetheMAVevenlaunches.You’llhavetowaitfifty-twominutes,butIdon’twanttoriskanytechnicalglitcheswiththeairlockoryoursuits.Oncewereachintercept,it’llbeBeck’sjobtogetWatney.”“HemightbeinbadshapewhenIgethim,”Becksaid.“Thestripped-down

MAVwillgetuptotwelveg’sduringthelaunch.Hecouldbeunconsciousandmayevenhaveinternalbleeding.”“Justaswellyou’reourdoctor,”Lewissaid.“Vogel,ifallgoesaccordingto

plan,you’repullingBeckandWatneybackaboardwiththetether.Ifthingsgowrong,you’reBeck’sbackup.”“Ja,”Vogelsaid.“Iwishtherewasmorewecoulddorightnow,”Lewissaid.“Butallwehave

leftisthewait.Yourworkschedulesarecleared.Allscientificexperimentsaresuspended.Sleepifyoucan,rundiagnosticsonyourequipmentifyoucan’t.”“We’ll get him, Commander,” Martinez said as the others floated out.

“Twenty-fourhoursfromnow,MarkWatneywillberighthereinthisroom.”“Let’shopeso,Major,”Lewissaid.

•••

“FINAL CHECKS for this shift are complete,” Mitch said into his headset.“Timekeeper.”“Go,Flight,”saidthetimekeeper.“TimeuntilMAVlaunch?”“Sixteenhours,nineminutes,fortyseconds…mark.”“Copythat.Allstations:Flightdirectorshiftchange.”Hetookhisheadsetoff

andrubbedhiseyes.BrendanHutchtooktheheadsetfromhimandputiton.“Allstations,Flight

directorisnowBrendanHutch.”“Callmeifanythinghappens,”Mitchsaid.“Ifnot,I’llseeyoutomorrow.”“Getsomesleep,Boss,”Brendansaid.Venkatwatched from the observation booth. “Why ask the timekeeper?” he

mumbled.“It’sonthehugemissionclockinthecenterscreen.”“He’s nervous,” Annie said. “You don’t often see it, but that’s whatMitch

Henderson looks like when he’s nervous. He double- and triple-checkseverything.”

“Fairenough,”Venkatsaid.“They’recampingoutonthelawn,bytheway,”Anniesaid.“Reportersfrom

allovertheworld.Ourpressroomsjustdon’thaveenoughspace.”“Themedia lovesadrama.”Hesighed.“It’llbeover tomorrow,onewayor

another.”“What’sourroleinallthis?”Anniesaid.“Ifsomethinggoeswrong,whatcan

MissionControldo?”“Nothing,”Venkatsaid.“Notadamnedthing.”“Nothing?”“It’sallhappeningtwelvelight-minutesaway.Thatmeansittakestwenty-four

minutesforthemtogettheanswertoanyquestiontheyask.Thewholelaunchistwelveminuteslong.They’reontheirown.”“Sowe’recompletelyhelpless?”“Yes,”Venkatsaid.“Sucks,doesn’tit?”

LOGENTRY:SOL549

I’dbelyingifIsaidIwasn’tshittingmyself.Infourhours,I’mgoingtorideagiantexplosion intoorbit.This issomethingI’vedonea fewtimesbefore,butneverwithajury-riggedmesslikethis.Rightnow,I’msittingintheMAV.I’msuitedupbecausethere’sabigholein

the front of the ship where the window and part of the hull used to be. I’m“awaitinglaunchinstructions.”Really,I’mjustawaitinglaunch.Idon’thaveanypartinthis.I’mjustgoingtositintheaccelerationcouchandhopeforthebest.Lastnight,Iatemyfinalmealpack.It’sthefirstgoodmealI’vehadinweeks.

I’mleavingforty-onepotatoesbehind.That’showcloseIcametostarvation.Icarefullycollectedsamplesduringmyjourney.ButIcan’tbringanyofthem

withme.SoIputtheminacontainerafewhundredmetersfromhere.Maybesomeday they’ll sendaprobe tocollect them.Mayaswellmake themeasy topickup.Thisisit.There’snothingafterthis.Thereisn’tevenanabortprocedure.Why

makeone?Wecan’t delay the launch.Hermes can’t stop andwait.Nomatterwhat,we’relaunchingonschedule.IfacetheveryrealpossibilitythatI’lldietoday.Can’tsayIlikeit.Itwouldn’tbesobadiftheMAVblewup.Iwouldn’tknowwhathitme,butif

Imisstheintercept,I’lljustfloataroundinspaceuntilIrunoutofair.Ihaveacontingencyplanforthat.I’lldroptheoxygenmixturetozeroandbreathepurenitrogenuntilIsuffocate.Itwouldn’tfeelbad.Thelungsdon’thavetheabilitytosenselackofoxygen.I’djustgettired,fallasleep,thendie.I still can’t quitebelieve that this is really it. I’m really leaving.This frigid

deserthasbeenmyhomeforayearandahalf.Ifiguredouthowtosurvive,atleastforawhile,andIgotusedtohowthingsworked.Myterrifyingstruggletostayalivebecamesomehowroutine.Getupin themorning,eatbreakfast, tendmycrops,fixbrokenstuff,eatlunch,answere-mail,watchTV,eatdinner,gotobed.Thelifeofamodernfarmer.Then I was a trucker, doing a long haul across the world. And finally, a

constructionworker, rebuilding a ship inways no one ever considered beforethis.I’vedonealittleofeverythinghere,becauseI’mtheonlyonearoundtodoit.That’sallovernow.Ihavenomorejobstodo,andnomorenaturetodefeat.

I’vehadmylastMartianpotato.I’vesleptintheroverforthelasttime.I’veleft

my last footprints in the dusty red sand. I’m leavingMars today, oneway oranother.Aboutfuckingtime.

CHAPTER26

THEYGATHERED.

EverywhereonEarth,theygathered.InTrafalgarSquareandTiananmenSquareandTimesSquare, theywatched

on giant screens. In offices, they huddled around computermonitors. In bars,they stared silentlyat theTV in thecorner. Inhomes, they satbreathlesslyontheircouches,theireyesgluedtothestoryplayingout.In Chicago, a middle-aged couple clutched each other’s hands as they

watched.Themanheldhiswifegentlyassherockedbackandforthoutofsheerterror.TheNASA representative knewnot to disturb them, but stood ready toansweranyquestions,shouldtheyask.“Fuel pressure green,” Johanssen’s voice said from a billion televisions.

“Engine alignment perfect. Communications five by five. We are ready forpreflightchecklist,Commander.”“Copy.”Lewis’svoice.“CAPCOM.”“Go,”Johanssenresponded.“Guidance.”“Go,”Johanssensaidagain.“RemoteCommand.”“Go,”saidMartinez.“Pilot.”“Go,”saidWatneyfromtheMAV.Amildcheercoruscatedthroughthecrowdsworldwide.

•••

MITCHSATathisstationinMissionControl.Thecontrollersmonitoredeverythingandwere ready tohelp inanyway theycould,but thecommunication latencybetweenHermesandEarthrenderedthempowerlesstodoanythingbutwatch.“Telemetry,”Lewis’svoicesaidoverthespeakers.“Go,”Johanssenresponded.“Recovery,”shecontinued.“Go,”saidBeckfromtheairlock.

“SecondaryRecovery.”“Go,”saidVogelfrombesideBeck.“Mission Control, this isHermes Actual,” Lewis reported. “We are go for

launchandwillproceedonschedule.WeareTminusfourminutes,tensecondstolaunch…mark.”“Didyougetthat,Timekeeper?”Mitchsaid.“Affirmative,Flight”wastheresponse.“Ourclocksaresynchedwiththeirs.”“Not that we can do anything,” Mitch mumbled, “but at least we’ll know

what’ssupposedlyhappening.”

•••

“ABOUT FOURminutes, Mark,” Lewis said into her mic. “How you doing downthere?”“Eagertogetupthere,Commander,”Watneyresponded.“We’regoingtomakethathappen,”Lewissaid.“Remember,you’llbepulling

someprettyheavyg’s.It’sokaytopassout.You’reinMartinez’shands.”“Tellthatassholenobarrelrolls.”“Copythat,MAV,”Lewissaid.“Fourmoreminutes,”Martinez said, cracking his knuckles. “You ready for

someflying,Beth?”“Yeah,”Johanssensaid.“It’llbestrangetosysopalaunchandstayinzero-g

thewholetime.”“Ihadn’tthoughtofitthatway,”Martinezsaid,“butyeah.I’mnotgoingtobe

squashedagainstthebackofmyseat.Weird.”

•••

BECKFLOATEDintheairlock,tetheredtoawall-mountedspool.Vogelstoodbesidehim,hisbootsclampedtothefloor.Bothstaredthroughtheopenouterdoorattheredplanetbelow.“Didn’tthinkI’dbebackhereagain,”Becksaid.“Yes,”Vogelsaid.“Wearethefirst.”

“Firstwhat?”“WearethefirsttovisitMarstwice.”“Ohyeah.EvenWatneycan’tsaythat.”“Hecannot.”TheylookedatMarsinsilenceforawhile.“Vogel,”Becksaid.“Ja.”“IfIcan’treachMark,Iwantyoutoreleasemytether.”“Dr.Beck,”Vogelsaid,“thecommanderhassaidnotothis.”“Iknowwhat thecommander said,but if Ineeda fewmoremeters, Iwant

youtocutmeloose.IhaveanMMU,Icangetbackwithoutatether.”“Iwillnotdothis,Dr.Beck.”“It’smyownlifeatrisk,andIsayit’sokay.”“Youarenotthecommander.”BeckscowledatVogel,butwith their reflectivevisorsdown, theeffectwas

lost.“Fine,” Beck said. “But I bet you’ll change your mind if push comes to

shove.”Vogeldidnotrespond.

•••

“T-MINUSTEN,”saidJohanssen,“nine…eight…”“Mainenginesstart,”saidMartinez.“…seven…six…five…Mooringclampsreleased…”“Aboutfiveseconds,Watney,”Lewissaidtoherheadset.“Hangon.”“Seeyouinafew,Commander,”Watneyradioedback.“…four…three…two…”

•••

WATNEYLAYintheaccelerationcouchastheMAVrumbledinanticipationofliftoff.

“Hmm,”hesaidtonobody.“Iwonderhowmuchlonger—”TheMAV launchedwith incredible force.More than anymanned ship had

accelerated in the history of space travel. Watney was shoved back into hiscouchsohardhecouldn’tevengrunt.Havinganticipatedthis,hehadplacedafoldedupshirtbehindhisheadinthe

helmet.Ashisheaddroveeverdeeperintothemakeshiftcushion,theedgesofhisvisionbecameblurry.Hecouldneitherbreathenormove.Directly in his field of view, theHab canvas patch flapped violently as the

shipexponentiallygainedspeed.Concentrationbecamedifficult,butsomethinginthebackofhismindtoldhimthatflappingwasbad.

•••

“VELOCITY SEVENhundred and forty-onemeters per second,” Johanssen calledout.“Altitudethirteenhundredandfiftymeters.”“Copy,”Martinezsaid.“That’slow,”Lewissaid.“Toolow.”“Iknow,”Martinezsaid.“It’s sluggish; fightingme.What the fuck isgoing

on?”“Velocityeighthundredandfifty,altitudeeighteenhundredandforty-three,”

Johanssensaid.“I’mnotgettingthepowerIneed!”Martinezsaid.“Enginepoweratahundredpercent,”Johanssensaid.“I’mtellingyouit’ssluggish,”Martinezinsisted.“Watney,”Lewissaidtoherheadset.“Watney,doyouread?Canyoureport?”

•••

WATNEYHEARDLewis’svoiceinthedistance.Likesomeonetalkingtohimthroughalong tunnel.Hevaguelywonderedwhat shewanted.His attentionwas brieflydrawntotheflutteringcanvasaheadofhim.Ariphadappearedandwasrapidlywidening.Butthenhewasdistractedbyaboltinoneofthebulkheads.Itonlyhadfive

sides.HewonderedwhyNASAdecided that bolt needed five sides insteadof

six.Itwouldrequireaspecialwrenchtotightenorloosen.The canvas tore even further, the tatteredmaterial flappingwildly.Through

theopening,Watneysawredskystretchingout infinitelyahead.“That’snice,”hethought.As the MAV flew higher, the atmosphere grew thinner. Soon, the canvas

stoppedflutteringandsimplystretchedtowardMark.Theskyshiftedfromredtoblack.“That’snice,too,”Markthought.Asconsciousnessslippedaway,hewonderedwherehecouldgetacoolfive-

sidedboltlikethat.

•••

“I’MGETTINGmoreresponsenow,”Martinezsaid.“Backontrackwithfullacceleration,”Johanssensaid.“Musthavebeendrag.

MAV’soutoftheatmospherenow.”“It was like flying a cow,” Martinez grumbled, his hands racing over his

controls.“Canyougethimup?”Lewisasked.“He’ll get to orbit,” Johanssen said, “but the intercept course may be

compromised.”“Gethimupfirst,”Lewissaid.“Thenwe’llworryaboutintercept.”“Copy.Mainenginecutoffinfifteenseconds.”“Totallysmoothnow,”Martinezsaid.“It’snotfightingmeatallanymore.”“Wellbelowtargetaltitude,”Johanssensaid.“Velocityisgood.”“Howfarbelow?”Lewissaid.“Can’tsayforsure,”Johanssensaid.“AllIhaveisaccelerometerdata.We’ll

needradarpingsatintervalstoworkouthistruefinalorbit.”“Backtoautomaticguidance,”Martinezsaid.“Mainshutdowninfour,”Johanssensaid,“…three…two…one…Shutdown.”“Confirmshutdown,”Martinezsaid.“Watney,youthere?”Lewissaid.“Watney?Watney,doyouread?”“Probably passed out, Commander,” Beck said over the radio. “He pulled

twelveg’sontheascent.Givehimafewminutes.”

“Copy,”Lewissaid.“Johanssen,gothisorbityet?”“Ihaveintervalpings.Workingoutourinterceptrangeandvelocity…”Martinez and Lewis stared at Johanssen as she brought up the intercept

calculationsoftware.Normally,orbitswouldbeworkedoutbyVogel,buthewasotherwiseengaged.Johanssenwashisbackupfororbitaldynamics.“Interceptvelocitywillbeelevenmeterspersecond…,”shebegan.“Icanmakethatwork,”Becksaidovertheradio.“Distanceatinterceptwillbe—”Johanssenstoppedandchoked.Shakily,she

continued. “We’ll be sixty-eight kilometers apart.” She buried her face in herhands.“Didshesaysixty-eightkilometers!?”Becksaid.“Kilometers!?”“Goddamnit,”Martinezwhispered.“Keep it together,” Lewis said. “Work the problem.Martinez, is there any

juiceintheMAV?”“Negative,Commander,”Martinezresponded.“TheyditchedtheOMSsystem

tolightenthelaunchweight.”“Thenwe’llhavetogotohim.Johanssen,timetointercept?”“Thirty-nineminutes,twelveseconds,”Johanssensaid,tryingnottoquaver.“Vogel,”Lewiscontinued,“howfarcanwedeflectinthirty-nineminuteswith

theionengines?”“Perhapsfivekilometers,”heradioed.“Notenough,”Lewissaid.“Martinez,what ifwepointourattitudethrusters

allthesamedirection?”“Dependsonhowmuchfuelwewanttosaveforattitudeadjustmentsonthe

triphome.”“Howmuchdoyouneed?”“Icouldgetbywithmaybetwentypercentofwhat’sleft.”“Allright,ifyouusedtheothereightypercent—”“Checking,”Martinezsaid,runningthenumbersonhisconsole.“We’dgeta

delta-vofthirty-onemeterspersecond.”“Johanssen,”Lewissaid.“Math.”“In thirty-nineminuteswe’d deflect…,” Johanssen quickly typed, “seventy-

twokilometers!”“Therewego,”Lewissaid.“Howmuchfuel—”“Use seventy-five point five percent of remaining attitude adjust fuel,”

Johanssensaid.“That’llbringtheinterceptrangetozero.”“Doit,”Lewissaid.“Aye,Commander,”Martinezsaid.“Hold on,” Johanssen said. “That’ll get the intercept range to zero, but the

interceptvelocitywillbeforty-twometerspersecond.”“Thenwehave thirty-nineminutes to figureouthow to slowdown,”Lewis

said.“Martinez,burnthejets.”“Aye,”Martinezsaid.

•••

“WHOA,”ANNIEsaidtoVenkat.“Alotofshitjusthappenedreallyfast.Explain.”Venkat strained to hear the audio feed over themurmur of theVIPs in the

observation booth. Through the glass, he saw Mitch throw his hands up infrustration.“The launchmissed badly,” Venkat said, looking pastMitch to the screens

beyond.“Theinterceptdistancewasgoingtobewaytoobig.Sothey’reusingtheattitudeadjusterstoclosethegap.”“Whatdoattitudeadjustersusuallydo?”“Theyrotatetheship.They’renotmadeforthrustingit.Hermesdoesn’thave

quick-reactionengines.Justtheslow,steadyionengines.”“So…problemsolved?”Anniesaidhopefully.“No,”Venkatsaid.“They’llgettohim,butthey’llbegoingforty-twometers

persecondwhentheygetthere.”“Howfastisthat?”Annieasked.“About ninety miles per hour,” Venkat said. “There’s no hope of Beck

grabbingWatneyatthatspeed.”“Cantheyusetheattitudeadjusterstoslowdown?”“Theyneededalotofvelocitytoclosethegapintime.Theyusedallthefuel

theycouldsparetogetgoingfastenough.Butnowtheydon’thaveenoughfueltoslowdown.”Venkatfrowned.“Sowhatcantheydo?”“Idon’tknow,”hesaid.“AndevenifIdid,Icouldn’ttellthemintime.”“Wellfuck,”Anniesaid.

“Yeah,”Venkatagreed.

•••

“WATNEY,”LEWISsaid“Doyouread?…Watney?”sherepeated.“Commander,”Beckradioed.“He’swearingasurfaceEVAsuit,right?”“Yeah.”“Itshouldhaveabio-monitor,”Becksaid.“Andit’llbebroadcasting.It’snot

astrongsignal;it’sonlydesignedtogoacouplehundredmeterstotheroverorHab.Butmaybewecanpickitup.”“Johanssen,”Lewissaid.“Onit,”Johanssensaid.“Ihavetolookupthefrequenciesinthetechspecs.

Gimmeasecond.”“Martinez,”Lewiscontinued.“Anyideahowtoslowdown?”He shook his head. “I got nothin’,Commander.We’re just going too damn

fast.”“Vogel?”“Theiondriveissimplynotstrongenough,”Vogelreplied.“There’sgottobesomething,”Lewissaid.“Somethingwecando.Anything.”“Gothisbio-monitordata,”Johanssensaid.“Pulsefifty-eight,bloodpressure

ninety-eightoversixty-one.”“That’s not bad,” Beck said. “Lower than I’d like, but he’s been in Mars

gravityforeighteenmonths,soit’sexpected.”“Timetointercept?”Lewisasked.“Thirty-twominutes,”Johanssenreplied.

•••

BLISSFULunconsciousnessbecamefoggyawarenesswhichtransitionedintopainfulreality.Watneyopenedhiseyes,thenwincedatthepaininhischest.Littleremainedofthecanvas.Tattersfloatedalongtheedgeoftheholeitonce

covered.ThisgrantedWatneyanunobstructedviewofMarsfromorbit.Theredplanet’s crater-pocked surface stretched out seemingly forever, its thin

atmosphere a slight blur along the edge. Only eighteen people in history hadpersonallyseenthisview.“Fuckyou,”hesaidtotheplanetbelow.Reaching toward the controls on his arm, he winced. Trying again, more

slowlythistime,heactivatedhisradio.“MAVtoHermes.”“Watney!?”camethereply.“Affirmative.Thatyou,Commander?”Watneysaid.“Affirmative.What’syourstatus?”“I’monashipwithnocontrolpanel,”hesaid.“That’sasmuchasIcantell

you.”“Howdoyoufeel?”“Mychesthurts.IthinkIbrokearib.Howareyou?”“We’reworkingongettingyou,”Lewissaid.“Therewasacomplicationinthe

launch.”“Yeah,”Watney said, looking out the hole in the ship. “The canvas didn’t

hold.Ithinkitrippedearlyintheascent.”“That’sconsistentwithwhatwesawduringthelaunch.”“Howbadisit,Commander?”heasked.“WewereabletocorrecttheinterceptrangewithHermes’sattitudethrusters.

Butthere’saproblemwiththeinterceptvelocity.”“Howbigaproblem.”“Forty-twometerspersecond.”“Wellshit.”

•••

“HEY,ATleasthe’sokayforthemoment,”Martinezsaid.“Beck,”Lewissaid,“I’mcomingaround toyourwayof thinking.Howfast

canyougetgoingifyou’reuntethered?”“Sorry,Commander,”Becksaid.“Ialreadyranthenumbers.AtbestIcould

get twenty-fivemeters per second. Even if I could get to forty-two, I’d needanotherforty-twotomatchHermeswhenIcameback.”“Copy,”Lewissaid.“Hey,”Watneysaidovertheradio,“I’vegotanidea.”

“Ofcourseyoudo,”Lewissaid.“Whatdoyougot?”“IcouldfindsomethingsharpinhereandpokeaholeinthegloveofmyEVA

suit.Icouldusetheescapingairasathrusterandflymywaytoyou.Thesourceofthrustwouldbeonmyarm,soI’dbeabletodirectitprettyeasily.”“Howdoeshecomeupwiththisshit?”Martinezinterjected.“Hmm,”Lewissaid.“Couldyougetforty-twometerspersecondthatway?”“Noidea,”Watneysaid.“I can’t seeyouhaving any control if youdid that,”Lewis said. “You’dbe

eyeballingtheinterceptandusingathrustvectoryoucanbarelycontrol.”“Iadmitit’sfatallydangerous,”Watneysaid.“Butconsiderthis:I’dgettofly

aroundlikeIronMan.”“We’llkeepworkingonideas,”Lewissaid.“IronMan,Commander.IronMan.”“Standby,”Lewissaid.Shefurrowedherbrow.“Hmm…Maybeit’snotsuchabadidea.…”“Youkidding,Commander?”Martinez said. “It’s a terrible idea.He’d shoot

offintospace—”“Not thewhole idea, but part of it,” she said. “Using atmosphere as thrust.

Martinez,getVogel’sstationupandrunning.”“Okay,”Martinezsaid,typingathiskeyboard.ThescreenchangedtoVogel’s

workstation.Martinez quickly changed the language fromGerman toEnglish.“It’sup.Whatdoyouneed?”“Vogel’sgotsoftwareforcalculatingcourseoffsetscausedbyhullbreaches,

right?”“Yeah,”Martinezsaid.“Itestimatescoursecorrectionsneededintheeventof

—”“Yeah,yeah,”Lewissaid.“Fireitup.Iwanttoknowwhathappensifweblow

theVAL.”JohanssenandMartinezlookedateachother.“Um.Yes,Commander,”Martinezsaid.“Thevehicularairlock?”Johanssensaid.“Youwantto…openit?”“Plentyofairintheship,”Lewissaid.“It’dgiveusagoodkick.”“Ye-es…,”Martinezsaidashebroughtupthesoftware.“Anditmightblow

thenoseoftheshipoffintheprocess.”“Also,alltheairwouldleave,”Johanssenfeltcompelledtoadd.

“We’llsealthebridgeandreactorroom.Wecanleteverywhereelsegovacuo,butwedon’twantexplosivedecompressioninhereornearthereactor.”Martinez entered the scenario into the software. “I thinkwe’ll just have the

sameproblemasWatney,butonalargerscale.Wecan’tdirectthatthrust.”“Wedon’thaveto,”Lewissaid.“TheVALisinthenose.Escapingairwould

makeathrustvectorthroughourcenterofmass.Wejustneedtopointtheshipdirectlyawayfromwherewewanttogo.”“Okay, Ihave thenumbers,”Martinez said. “Abreachat theVAL,with the

bridgeandreactorroomsealedoff,wouldaccelerateustwenty-ninemeterspersecond.”“We’d have a relative velocity of thirteen meters per second afterward,”

Johanssensupplied.“Beck,”Lewisradioed.“Haveyoubeenhearingallthis?”“Affirmative,Commander,”Becksaid.“Canyoudothirteenmeterspersecond?”“It’ll be risky,” Beck replied. “Thirteen to match the MAV, then another

thirteentomatchHermes.Butit’sahellofalotbetterthanforty-two.”“Johanssen,”Lewissaid.“Timetointercept?”“Eighteenminutes,Commander.”“Whatkindofjoltwillwefeelwiththatbreach?”LewisaskedMartinez.“Theairwill takefoursecondstoevacuate,”hesaid.“We’llfeelalittleless

thanoneg.”“Watney,”shesaidtoherheadset,“wehaveaplan.”“Yay!Aplan!”Watneyreplied.

•••

“HOUSTON,”LEWIS’SvoicerangthroughMissionControl.“BeadvisedwearegoingtodeliberatelybreachtheVALtoproducethrust.”“What?”Mitchsaid.“What!?”“Oh…mygod,”Venkatsaidintheobservationroom.“Fuckmeraw,”Anniesaid,gettingup.“Ibetterget to thepress room.Any

partingknowledgebeforeIgo?”“They’regoingtobreachtheship,”Venkatsaid,stilldumbfounded.“They’re

goingtodeliberatelybreachtheship.Ohmygod…”“Gotit,”Anniesaid,joggingtothedoor.

•••

“HOWWILLweopentheairlockdoors?”Martinezasked.“There’snowaytoopenthemremotely,andifanyone’snearbywhenitblows—”“Right,”Lewissaid.“Wecanopenonedoorwiththeothershut,buthowdo

weopentheother?”Shethoughtforamoment.“Vogel,”sheradioed.“Ineedyoutocomebackin

andmakeabomb.”“Um.Again,please,Commander?”Vogelreplied.“Abomb,”Lewisconfirmed.“You’reachemist.Canyoumakeabomboutof

stuffonboard?”“Ja,”Vogelsaid.“Wehaveflammablesandpureoxygen.”“Soundsgood,”Lewissaid.“It is of course dangerous to set off an explosive device on a spacecraft,”

Vogelpointedout.“So make it small,” Lewis said. “It just needs to poke a hole in the inner

airlockdoor.Anyholewilldo.Ifitblowsthedooroff,that’sfine.Ifitdoesn’t,theairwillgetoutslower,but for longer.Themomentumchange is thesame,andwe’llgettheaccelerationweneed.”“PressurizingAirlock2,”Vogelreported.“Howwillweactivatethisbomb?”“Johanssen?”Lewissaid.“Uh…,” Johanssen said. She picked up her headset and quickly put it on.

“Vogel,canyourunwiresintoit?”“Ja,”Vogelsaid.“Iwillusethreadedstopperwithasmallholeforthewires.

Itwillhavelittleeffectontheseal.”“WecouldrunthewiretoLightingPanel41,”Johanssensaid.“It’snexttothe

airlock,andIcanturnitonandofffromhere.”“There’s our remote trigger,”Lewis said. “Johanssen, go set up the lighting

panel.Vogel, get in here andmake the bomb.Martinez, go close and seal thedoorstothereactorroom.”“Yes,Commander,”Johanssensaid,kickingoffherseattowardthehallway.

“Commander,”Martinezsaid,pausingattheexit,“youwantmetobringbacksomespacesuits?”“No point,” Lewis said. “If the seal on the bridge doesn’t hold, we’ll get

suckedout at close to the speedof sound.We’llbe jellywithorwithout suitson.”“Hey, Martinez,” said Beck over the radio. “Can you move my lab mice

somewheresafe?They’reinthebiolab.It’sjustonecage.”“Copy,Beck,”saidMartinez.“I’llmovethemtothereactorroom.”“Areyoubackinyet,Vogel?”Lewisasked.“Iamjustreenteringnow,Commander.”“Beck,”Lewissaidtoherheadset.“I’llneedyoubackin,too.Butdon’ttake

yoursuitoff.”“Okay,”Becksaid.“Why?”“We’regoingtohavetoliterallyblowuponeofthedoors,”Lewisexplained.

“I’dratherwekilltheinnerone.Iwanttheouterdoorunharmed,sowekeepoursmoothaerobrakingshape.”“Makessense,”Beckrespondedashefloatedbackintotheship.“Oneproblem,”Lewis said. “Iwant theouterdoor locked in the fullyopen

positionwith themechanical stopper inplace tokeep it frombeing trashedbythedecompress.”“Youhave tohavesomeone in theairlock todo that,”Becksaid.“Andyou

can’topentheinnerdooriftheouterdoorislockedopen.”“Right,” Lewis said. “So I need you to come back inside, depressurize the

VAL,andlocktheouterdooropen.Thenyou’llneedtocrawlalongthehulltogetbacktoAirlock2.”“Copy,Commander,”Becksaid.“Therearelatchpointsalloverthehull.I’ll

movemytetheralong,mountainclimberstyle.”“Gettoit,”Lewissaid.“AndVogel,you’reinahurry.Youhavetomakethe

bomb,setitup,getbacktoAirlock2,suitup,depressurizeit,andopentheouterdoor,soBeckcangetbackinwhenhe’sdone.”“He’s taking his suit off right now and can’t reply,”Beck reported, “but he

heardtheorder.”“Watney,howyoudoing?”Lewis’svoicesaidinhisear.“Finesofar,Commander,”Watneyreplied.“Youmentionedaplan?”“Affirmative,”shesaid.“We’regoingtoventatmospheretogetthrust.”

“How?”“We’regoingtoblowaholeintheVAL.”“What!?”Watneysaid.“How!?”“Vogel’smakingabomb.”“Iknewthatguywasamadscientist!”Watneysaid.“Ithinkweshouldjustgo

withmyIronManidea.”“That’stoorisky,andyouknowit,”shereplied.“Thingis,”Watneysaid,“I’mselfish.Iwantthememorialsbackhometobe

justforme.Idon’twanttherestofyoulosersinthem.Ican’tletyouguysblowtheVAL.”“Oh,”Lewis said, “well if youwon’t let us then—Wait…wait aminute.…

I’mlookingatmyshoulderpatchanditturnsoutI’mthecommander.Sittight.We’recomingtogetyou.”“Smart-ass.”

•••

ASAchemist,Vogelknewhowtomakeabomb.Infact,muchofhistrainingwastoavoidmakingthembymistake.Theshiphadfewflammablesaboard,duetothefataldangeroffire.Butfood,

byitsverynature,containedflammablehydrocarbons.Lackingtimetositdownanddothemath,heestimated.Sugarhas4000food-caloriesperkilogram.Onefood-calorie is4184Joules.

Sugarinzero-gwillfloatandthegrainswillseparate,maximizingsurfacearea.In a pure-oxygen environment, 16.7 million joules will be released for everykilogramofsugarused,releasingtheexplosiveforceofeightsticksofdynamite.Suchisthenatureofcombustioninpureoxygen.Vogelmeasuredthesugarcarefully.Hepoureditintothestrongestcontainer

he could find, a thick glass beaker. The strength of the container was asimportant as the explosive. A weak container would simply cause a fireballwithoutmuchconcussiveforce.Astrongcontainer,however,wouldcontainthepressureuntilitreachedtruedestructivepotential.He quickly drilled a hole in the beaker’s stopper, then stripped a section of

wire.Heranthewirethroughthehole.“Sehrgefährlich,” hemumbled as he poured liquid oxygen from the ship’s

supply into the container, then quickly screwed the stopper on. In just a fewminutes,hehadmadearudimentarypipebomb.“Sehr,sehr,gefährlich.”Hefloatedoutofthelabandmadehiswaytowardthenoseoftheship.

•••

JOHANSSENWORKEDonthelightingpanelasBeckfloatedtowardtheVAL.Shegrabbedhisarm.“Becarefulcrawlingalongthehull.”Heturnedtofaceher.“Becarefulsettingupthebomb.”She kissed his faceplate then looked away, embarrassed. “That was stupid.

Don’ttellanyoneIdidthat.”“Don’ttellanyoneIlikedit.”Becksmiled.He entered the airlock and sealed the inner door. After depressurizing, he

openedtheouterdoorandlockeditinplace.Grabbingahandrailonthehull,hepulledhimselfout.Johanssen watched until he was no longer in view, then returned to the

lightingpanel.Shehaddeactivateditearlierfromherworkstation.Afterpullinga length of the cable out and stripping the ends, she fiddled with a roll ofelectricaltapeuntilVogelarrived.He showed up just aminute later, carefully floating down the hallwith the

bombheldinbothhands.“Ihaveusedasinglewireforigniting,”heexplained.“Ididnotwanttorisk

twowiresforaspark.Itwouldbedangeroustousifwehadstaticwhilesettingup.”“Howdowesetitoff?”Johanssensaid.“Thewiremustreachahightemperature.Ifyoushortpowerthroughit,that

willbesufficient.”“I’llhavetopinthebreaker,”Johanssensaid,“butit’llwork.”Shetwistedthelightingwiresontothebomb’sandtapedthemoff.“Excuseme,”Vogelsaid.“IhavetoreturntoAirlock2toletDr.Beckback

in.”“Mm,”Johanssensaid.

•••

MARTINEZFLOATEDbackinto thebridge.“Ihadafewminutes,soIranthroughtheaerobrake lockdown checklist for the reactor room. Everything’s ready foraccelerationandthecompartment’ssealedoff.”“Goodthinking,”Lewissaid.“Preptheattitudecorrection.”“Roger,Commander,”Martinezsaid,driftingtohisstation.“TheVAL’sproppedopen,”Beck’svoicesaidover thecomm.“Startingmy

traverseacrossthehull.”“Copy,”Lewissaid.“Thiscalculationistricky,”Martinezsaid.“Ineedtodoeverythingbackward.

The VAL’s in front, so the source of thrust will be exactly opposite to ourengines.Oursoftwarewasn’texpectingustohaveanenginethere.IjustneedtotellitweplantothrusttowardMark.”“Takeyour timeandget it right,”Lewissaid.“Anddon’texecute till Igive

youtheword.We’renotspinningtheshiparoundwhileBeck’soutonthehull.”“Roger,”hesaid.Afteramoment,headded“Okay,theadjustment’sreadyto

execute.”“Standby,”Lewissaid.

•••

VOGEL,BACKinhissuit,depressurizedAirlock2andopenedtheouterdoor.“’Bouttime,”Becksaid,climbingin.“Sorryforthedelay,”Vogelsaid.“Iwasrequiredtomakeabomb.”“Thishasbeenkindofaweirdday,”Becksaid.“Commander,VogelandIare

inposition.”“Copy”wasLewis’sresponse.“Getupagainsttheforewalloftheairlock.It’s

goingtobeaboutonegforfourseconds.Makesureyou’rebothtetheredin.”“Copy,”Becksaidasheattachedhistether.Thetwomenpressedthemselves

againstthewall.

•••

“OKAY,MARTINEZ,”Lewissaid,“pointustherightdirection.”“Copy,”saidMartinez,executingtheattitudeadjustment.Johanssenfloatedintothebridgeastheadjustmentwasperformed.Theroom

rotatedaroundher as she reached for ahandhold. “Thebomb’s ready, and thebreaker’s jammed closed,” she said. “I can set it off by remotely turning onLightingPanel41.”“Sealthebridgeandgettoyourstation,”Lewissaid.“Copy,” Johanssen said. Unstowing the emergency seal, she plugged the

entrance to the bridge.With a few turns of the crank, the jobwas done. Shereturnedtoherstationandranaquicktest.“Increasingbridgepressureto1.03atmospheres.…Pressureissteady.Wehaveagoodseal.”“Copy,”Lewissaid.“Timetointercept?”“Twenty-eightseconds,”Johanssensaid.“Wow,”Martinezsaid.“Wecutthatprettyclose.”“Youready,Johanssen?”Lewisasked.“Yes,”Johanssensaid.“AllIhavetodoishitenter.”“Martinez,how’sourangle?”“Dead-on,Commander,”Martinezreported.“Strapin,”Lewissaid.Thethreeofthemtightenedtherestraintsoftheirchairs.“Twentyseconds,”Johanssensaid.

•••

TEDDYTOOKhisseatintheVIProom.“What’sthestatus?”“Fifteen seconds till they blow the VAL,” Venkat said. “Where have you

been?”“OnthephonewiththePresident,”Teddysaid.“Doyouthinkthiswillwork?”“Ihavenoidea,”Venkatsaid.“I’veneverfeltthishelplessinmylife.”“Ifit’sanyconsolation,”Teddysaid,“prettymucheveryoneintheworldfeels

thesameway.”Ontheothersideoftheglass,Mitchpacedtoandfro.

•••

“…FIVE…four…three…,”Johanssensaid.“Braceforacceleration,”Lewissaid.“…two…one…,”Johanssencontinued.“ActivatingLightingPanel41.”Shepressedenter.Inside Vogel’s bomb, the full current of the ship’s internal lighting system

flowedthroughathin,exposedwire.Itquicklyreachedtheignitiontemperatureofthesugar.WhatwouldhavebeenaminorfizzleinEarth’satmospherebecamean uncontrolled conflagration in the container’s pure oxygen environment. Inunder one hundred milliseconds, the massive combustion pressure burst thecontainer,andtheresultingexplosionrippedtheairlockdoortoshreds.TheinternalairofHermesrushedthroughtheopenVAL,blastingHermesin

theotherdirection.VogelandBeckwerepressedagainstthewallofAirlock2.Lewis,Martinez,

and Johanssen endured the acceleration in their seats. It was not a dangerousamountofforce.InfactitwaslessthantheforceofEarth’ssurfacegravity.Butitwasinconsistentandjerky.After four seconds, the shaking died down and the ship returned to

weightlessness.“Reactorroomstillpressurized,”Martinezreported.“Bridgesealholding,”Johanssensaid.“Obviously.”“Damage?”Martinezsaid.“Notsureyet,”Johanssensaid.“IhaveExternalCamera4pointedalongthe

nose.Idon’tseeanyproblemswiththehullneartheVAL.”“Worry about that later,” Lewis said. “What’s our relative velocity and

distancetoMAV?”Johanssen typed quickly. “We’ll getwithin twenty-twometers andwe’re at

twelvemeterspersecond.Weactuallygotbetterthanexpectedthrust.”“Watney,”Lewissaid,“itworked.Beck’sonhisway.”“Score!”Watneyresponded.“Beck,”Lewissaid,“you’reup.Twelvemeterspersecond.”“Closeenough!”Beckreplied.

•••

“I’MGOINGtojumpout,”Becksaid.“Shouldgetmeanothertwoorthreemeterspersecond.”“Understood,” Vogel said, loosely gripping Beck’s tether. “Good luck, Dr.

Beck.”Placinghisfeetonthebackwall,Beckcoiledandleapedoutoftheairlock.Oncefree,hegothisbearings.Aquicklooktohisrightshowedhimwhathe

couldnotseefrominsidetheairlock.“Ihavevisual!”Becksaid.“IcanseetheMAV!”TheMAVbarelyresembledaspacecraftasBeckhadcometoknowthem.The

oncesleek lineswerenowa jaggedmessofmissinghull segmentsandemptyanchorpointswherenoncriticalcomponentsusedtobe.“Jesus,Mark,whatdidyoudotothatthing?”“YoushouldseewhatIdidtotherover,”Watneyradioedback.Beck thrust on an intercept course. He had practiced thismany times. The

presumption in those practice sessions was that he’d be rescuing a crewmatewhosetetherhadbroken,buttheprinciplewasthesame.“Johanssen,”hesaid,“yougotmeonradar?”“Affirmative,”shereplied.“CalloutmyrelativevelocitytoMarkeverytwosecondsorso.”“Copy.Fivepointtwometerspersecond.”“Hey Beck,”Watney said, “the front’s wide open. I’ll get up there and be

readytograbatyou.”“Negative,” interrupted Lewis. “No untetheredmovement. Stay strapped to

yourchairuntilyou’relatchedtoBeck.”“Copy,”Watneysaid.“Threepointonemeterspersecond,”Johanssenreported.“Goingtocoastforabit,”Becksaid.“GottacatchupbeforeIslowitdown.”

Herotatedhimselfinpreparationforthenextburn.“Elevenmeterstotarget,”Johanssensaid.“Copy.”“Sixmeters,”Johanssensaid.“Aaaaandcounter-thrusting,”Becksaid,firingtheMMUthrustersagain.The

MAVloomedbeforehim.“Velocity?”heasked.“Onepointonemeterspersecond,”Johanssensaid.“Goodenough,”hesaid,reachingfortheship.“I’mdriftingtowardit.Ithink

Icangetmyhandonsomeofthetorncanvas.…”Thetatteredcanvasbeckonedas theonlyhandholdontheotherwisesmooth

ship.Beckreached,extendingasbesthecould,andmanagedtograbhold.“Contact,”Becksaid.Strengtheninghisgrip,hepulledhisbodyforwardand

lashedoutwithhisotherhandtograbmorecanvas.“Firmcontact!”“Dr.Beck,”Vogelsaid,“wehavepassedclosestapproachpointandyouare

nowgettingfurtheraway.Youhaveonehundredandsixty-ninemetersoftetherleft.Enoughforfourteenseconds.”“Copy,”Becksaid.Pulling his head to the opening, he looked inside the compartment to see

Watneystrappedtohischair.“VisualonWatney!”hereported.“VisualonBeck!”Watneyreported.“Howyadoin’,man?”Becksaid,pullinghimselfintotheship.“I…I just…”Watney said. “Giveme aminute.You’re the first person I’ve

seenineighteenmonths.”“Wedon’thaveaminute,”Becksaid,kickingoffthewall.“We’vegoteleven

secondsbeforewerunoutoftether.”Beck’scoursetookhimtothechair,whereheclumsilycollidedwithWatney.

Thetwogrippedeachother’sarmstokeepBeckfrombouncingaway.“ContactwithWatney!”Becksaid.“Eightseconds,Dr.Beck,”Vogelradioed.“Copy,”Beck said as he hastily latched the front of his suit to the front of

Watney’swithtetherclips.“Connected,”hesaid.Watneyreleasedthestrapsonhischair.“Restraintsoff.”“We’reoutahere,”Becksaid,kickingoffthechairtowardtheopening.ThetwomenfloatedacrosstheMAVcabintotheopening.Beckreachedout

hisarmandpushedofftheedgeastheypassedthrough.“We’reout,”Beckreported.“Fiveseconds,”Vogelsaid.“RelativevelocitytoHermes:twelvemeterspersecond,”Johanssensaid.“Thrusting,”Becksaid,activatinghisMMU.

The two accelerated toward Hermes for a few seconds. Then the MMUcontrolsonBeck’sheads-updisplayturnedred.“That’sitforthefuel,”Becksaid.“Velocity?”“Fivemeterspersecond,”Johanssenreplied.“Stand by,”Vogel said.Throughout the process, he had been feeding tether

outoftheairlock.Nowhegrippedtheever-shrinkingremainderoftheropewithbothhands.Hedidn’tclampdownonit;thatwouldpullhimoutoftheairlock.Hesimplyclosedhishandsoverthetethertocreatefriction.Hermes was now pulling Beck andWatney along, with Vogel’s use of the

tetheractingasashockabsorber.IfVogelusedtoomuchforce,theshockofitwouldpullthetetherfreefromBeck’ssuitclips.Ifheusedtoolittle,thetetherwouldrunoutbefore theymatchedspeeds, then jerk toahardstopat theend,whichwouldalsoripitoutofBeck’ssuitclips.Vogel managed to find the balance. After a few seconds of tense, gut-feel

physics,hefelttheforceonthetetherabate.“Velocityzero!”Johanssenreportedexcitedly.“Reel’emin,Vogel,”Lewissaid.“Copy,”Vogelsaid.Handoverhand,heslowlypulledhiscrewmatestoward

theairlock.Afterafewseconds,hestoppedactivelypullingandsimplytookinthelineastheycoastedtowardhim.Theyfloatedintotheairlock,andVogelgrabbedthem.BeckandWatneyboth

reached for handholds on thewall asVogelworked hisway around them andclosedtheouterdoor.“Aboard!”Becksaid.“Airlock2outerdoorclosed,”Vogelsaid.“Yes!”Martinezyelled.“Copy,”Lewissaid.

•••

LEWIS’SVOICEechoedacrosstheworld:“Houston,thisisHermesActual.Sixcrewsafelyaboard.”The control room exploded with applause. Leaping from their seats,

controllerscheered,hugged,andcried.Thesamesceneplayedoutallover theworld,inparks,bars,civiccenters,livingrooms,classrooms,andoffices.

The couple in Chicago clutched each other in sheer relief, then pulled theNASArepresentativeinforagrouphug.MitchslowlypulledoffhisheadsetandturnedtofacetheVIProom.Through

the glass, he saw various well-suited men and women cheering wildly. HelookedatVenkatandletoutaheavysighofrelief.Venkatputhisheadinhishandsandwhispered,“Thankthegods.”Teddy pulled a blue folder from his briefcase and stood. “Annie will be

wantingmeinthepressroom.”“Guessyoudon’tneedtheredfoldertoday,”Venkatsaid.“Honestly, I didn’t make one.” As he walked out he added, “Good work,

Venk.Now,getthemhome.”

LOGENTRY:MISSIONDAY687

That “687” caught me off guard for a minute. OnHermes, we track time bymission days. Itmay beSol 549 downonMars, but it’sMissionDay 687 uphere.Andyouknowwhat?Itdoesn’tmatterwhattimeitisonMarsbecauseI’mnotthere!Ohmy god. I’m really not onMars anymore. I can tell because there’s no

gravityandthereareotherhumansaround.I’mstilladjusting.If this were a movie, everyone would have been in the airlock, and there

wouldhavebeenhighfivesallaround.Butitdidn’tpanoutthatway.IbroketworibsduringtheMAVascent.Theyweresorethewholetime,but

theyreallystartedscreamingwhenVogelpulledusintotheairlockbythetether.Ididn’twanttodistractthepeoplewhoweresavingmylife,soImutedmymicandscreamedlikealittlegirl.It’strue,youknow.Inspace,noonecanhearyouscreamlikealittlegirl.OncetheygotmeintoAirlock2,theyopenedtheinnerdoorandIwasfinally

aboardagain.Hermeswasstillinvacuo,sowedidn’thavetocycletheairlock.Becktoldmetogolimpandpushedmedownthecorridortowardhisquarters

(whichserveastheship’s“sickbay”whenneeded).VogelwenttheotherdirectionandclosedtheouterVALdoor.OnceBeckand Igot tohisquarters,wewaited for the ship to repressurize.

Hermeshadenoughspareairtorefilltheshiptwomoretimesifneeded.It’dbeaprettyshittylong-rangeshipifitcouldn’trecoverfromadecompression.AfterJohanssengaveustheallclear,Dr.Bossy-Beckmademewaitwhilehe

first took off his suit, then took off mine. After he pulled my helmet off, helookedshocked.IthoughtmaybeIhadamajorheadwoundorsomething,butitturnsoutitwasthesmell.It’sbeenawhilesinceIwashed…anything.After that, it was X-rays and chest bandages while the rest of the crew

checkedtheshipfordamage.Thencame the (painful) high fives, followedbypeople staying as far away

from my stench as possible. We had a few minutes of reunion before Beckshuttledeveryoneout.HegavemepainkillersandtoldmetoshowerassoonasIcouldmovemyarms.SonowI’mwaitingforthedrugstokickin.Ithinkaboutthesheernumberofpeoplewhopulledtogetherjusttosavemy

sorry ass, and I can barely comprehend it.My crewmates sacrificed a year oftheir lives to come back for me. Countless people at NASAworked day andnight to invent rover andMAVmodifications.Allof JPLbusted their asses tomake a probe that was destroyed on launch. Then, instead of giving up, theymade another probe to resupply Hermes. The China National SpaceAdministrationabandonedaprojectthey’dworkedonforyearsjusttoprovideabooster.Thecostformysurvivalmusthavebeenhundredsofmillionsofdollars.All

tosaveonedorkybotanist.Whybother?Well, okay. I know the answer to that.Part of itmight bewhat I represent:

progress,science,andtheinterplanetaryfuturewe’vedreamedofforcenturies.But really, they did it because every human being has a basic instinct to helpeachotherout.Itmightnotseemthatwaysometimes,butit’strue.Ifahikergetslostinthemountains,peoplewillcoordinateasearch.Ifatrain

crashes,peoplewilllineuptogiveblood.Ifanearthquakelevelsacity,peopleallovertheworldwillsendemergencysupplies.Thisissofundamentallyhumanthat it’s found in every culturewithout exception.Yes, there are assholeswhojustdon’tcare,butthey’remassivelyoutnumberedbythepeoplewhodo.Andbecauseofthat,Ihadbillionsofpeopleonmyside.Prettycool,eh?Anyway, my ribs hurt like hell, my vision is still blurry from acceleration

sickness,I’mreallyhungry,it’llbeanother211daysbeforeI’mbackonEarth,and,apparently,Ismelllikeaskunktookashitonsomesweatsocks.Thisisthehappiestdayofmylife.