The Martian

“At his usual rate of 90km per sol,” Mindy said, “he should get there on Sol 504. Sol 505 if he takes his time. He always drives in the early morning, finishing around noon.” She checked an application on her laptop. “Noon on Sol 504 will be 11:41am this Wednesday here in Houston. Noon on Sol 505 will be 12:21pm on Thursday.”

“Mitch, who’s handling Ares 4 MAV communication?”

“The Ares 3 mission control team,” Mitch replied. “It’ll be in control room 2”.

“I assume you’ll be there?”

“Bet your ass I’ll be there.”

“So will I.”  

LOG ENTRY: SOL 502

Every Thanksgiving, my family used to drive from Chicago to Sandusky, an 8-hour drive. It’s where Mom’s sister lived. Dad would always drive, and he was the slowest, most cautious driver who ever took the wheel.

Seriously. He drove like he was taking a driver’s test. Never exceeded the speed limit, always had his hands at 10 and 2, adjusted mirrors before each outing, you name it.

It was infuriating. We’d be on the freeway, cars blowing by left and right. Some of them would blare their horns because, honestly, driving the speed limit makes you a road hazard. I wanted to get out and push.

I felt that way all damn day today. 5km/h is literally a walking pace. And I drove that speed for eight hours.

But the slow speed ensured that I wouldn’t fall in to anymore powder pits along the way. And of course I didn’t encounter any. I could have driven full speed and had no problems. But better safe than sorry.

The good news is I’m off the Ramp. I camped out as soon as the terrain flattened out. I’ve already overdone my driving time for the day. I could go further, I still have 15% battery power or so, but I want to get as much daylight on my solar cells as I can.

I’m in the Schiaparelli Basin at last! Far from the crater wall, too. I get a full day of sunlight every day from now on.

I decided it was time for a very special occasion. I ate the meal pack labeled “Survived Something That Should Have Killed Me.” Oh my god, I forgot how good real food tastes.

With luck, I’ll get to eat “Arrival” in a few sols.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 503

I didn’t get as much recharge I usually would yesterday. Because of my extended driving time, I only recharged to 70% before night fell. So today’s driving was abbreviated.

 I got 63km before I had to camp out again. But I don’t even mind. Because I’m only 148km from the MAV. That means I’ll get there the sol after tomorrow.

Holy hell, I’m really going to make it!

LOG ENTRY: SOL 504

Holy shit this is awesome! Holy shit! Holy shit!

Ok calm. Calm.

I made 90km today. By my estimate, I’m 50km from the MAV. I should get there some time tomorrow. I’m excited about that, but here’s what I’m really stoked about: I caught a blip from the MAV!

NASA has the MAV broadcasting the Ares 3 Hab homing signal. Why wouldn’t they? It makes perfect sense. Unlike my worn out shit,  the MAV is a sleek, perfectly functional machine, ready to do what it’s told. And they have it pretending to be the Ares 3 Hab so my rover will see the signal and tell me where it is.

That is an exceptionally good idea! I won’t have to wander around looking for the thing. I’m going straight to it.

I only caught a blip. I’ll get more as I get closer. It has three redundant methods of communicating with Earth, but they’re extremely directed and are designed for line-of-sight communication. It’s strange to think that a sand dune will stop me from hearing what the MAV has to say, but it can talk to Earth no problem. Well, there aren’t any sand dunes between it and Earth when they talk.

Somehow they messed with things to make a radial signal, however weak it may be. And I heard it!

My message for the day was “GOT BEACON SIGNAL.” If I’d had enough rocks, I would have added “AWESOME FUCKING IDEA!!!” But it’s a really sandy area.

The MAV waited in southwestern Schiaparelli. It stood an impressive 27 meters tall, its conical body gleaming in the midday sun.

The rover crested a nearby dune with the trailer in tow. It slowed for a few moments, then continued toward the ship at top speed. It came to a stop 20 meters away.

There it remained for ten minutes while the astronaut inside suited up.  

He stumbled excitedly out of the airlock, falling to the ground then scrambling to his feet. Beholding the MAV, he gestured to it with both arms, as if in disbelief.

He leaped in to the air several times, arms held high with fists clenched. Then he knelt on one knee and fist-pumped repeatedly.

Running to the spacecraft, he hugged Landing Strut B. After a few moments, he broke off the embrace to perform another round of leaping celebrations.

Now fatigued, the astronaut stood with arms akimbo, looking up at the sleek lines of the engineering marvel before him.

Climbing the ladder on the landing stage, he reached the ascent stage and entered the airlock. He sealed the door behind him.

Chapter 25

LOG ENTRY: SOL 505

I finally made it! I’m at the MAV!