The Martian

“The Taiyang Shen will send it to Hermes. The thrusters are for fine control and docking. And JPL didn’t have time to make a guidance system. So it’ll be remote-controlled by a human pilot.”

“Who will be controlling it?” Cathy asked.

“The Ares 3 pilot, Major Rick Martinez. As the probe approaches Hermes, he’ll take over and guide it to the docking port.”

“And what if there’s a problem?”

“Hermes will have their EVA specialist, Dr. Chris Beck, suited up and ready the whole time. If necessary he will literally grab the probe with his hands and drag it to the docking port.”

“Sounds kind of unscientific,” Cathy laughed.

“You want unscientific?” Venkat smiled. “If the probe can’t attach to the docking port for some reason, Beck will open the probe and carry its contents to the airlock.”

“Like bringing in the groceries?” Cathy asked.

“Exactly like that,” Venkat said. “And we estimate it would take 4 trips back and forth. But that’s all an edge case. We don’t anticipate any problems with the docking process.”

“Sounds like you’re covering all your bases,” Cathy smiled.

“We have to,” Venkat said. “If they don’t get those supplies… well, they need those supplies.”

“Thanks for taking the time to answer our questions,” Cathy said.

“Always a pleasure, Cathy.”

He fidgeted in the chair, unsure what to say. After a moment, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped sweat from his balding head.

“What if the probe doesn’t get to you?” He asked.

“Try not to think about that,” Johanssen said.

“Your mother is so worried she couldn’t even come.”

“I’m sorry,” Johanssen mumbled, looking down.

“She can’t eat, she can’t sleep, she feels sick all the time. I’m not much better. How can they make you do this?”

“They’re not making me do it, Dad. I volunteered.”

“Why would you do that to your mother?” He demanded.

“Sorry,” Johanssen mumbled. “Watney’s my crewmate. I can’t just let him die.”

He sighed. “I wish we’d raised you to be more selfish.”

She chuckled quietly.

“How did I end up in this situation?” He lamented. “I’m the district sales manager of a napkin factory. Why is my daughter in space?”

Johanssen shrugged.

“You were always scientifically minded,” he said. “It was great! Straight-A student. Hanging around nerdy guys too scared to try anything. No wild side at all. You’re every father’s dream daughter.”

“Thanks, Dad, I-”

“But then you got on a giant bomb that blasted you to Mars. And I mean that literally.”

“Technically,” she corrected, “the booster only took me in to orbit. It was the nuclear powered ion engine that took me to Mars.”

“Oh, much better!” He said.

“Dad, I’ll be all right. Tell Mom I’ll be all right.”

“What good will that do?” He said. “She’s going to be tied up in knots until you’re back home.”

“I know,” Johanssen mumbled. “But…”

“What?” He said. “But what?”

“I won’t die. I really won’t. Even if everything goes wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

Johanssen furrowed her brow. “Just tell Mom I won’t die.”

“How? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t want to get in to the how,” Johanssen said.

“Look,” he said, leaning toward the camera. “I’ve always respected your privacy and independence. I never tried to pry in to your life, never tried to control you. I’ve been really good about that, right?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“So in exchange for a lifetime of staying out of your business, let me nose in just this once. What are you not telling me?”

She fell silent for several seconds. Finally, she said “They have a plan.”

“Who?”

“There’s always have a plan,” she said. “They work out everything in advance.”

“What plan?”

“They picked me to survive. I’m youngest. I have the skills necessary to get home alive. And I’m the smallest and need the least food.”

“What happens if the probe fails, Beth,” her father asked. This time, he was uncharacteristically firm.

“Everyone would die but me,” she said. “They’d all take pills and die. They’ll do it right away so they don’t use up any food. Commander Lewis picked me to be the survivor. She told me about it yesterday. I don’t think NASA knows about it.”

“And the supplies would last until you got back to Earth?”

“No,” she said. “We have enough food left to feed six people for a month. If I was the only one, it would last 6 months. With a reduced diet I could stretch it to 9. But it’ll be 17 months before I get back.”

“So how would you survive?”

“The supplies wouldn’t be the only source of food.” she said.

He widened his eyes. “Oh… oh my god…”

“Just tell Mom the supplies would last, ok?”

Taiyang Shen's con-trail wafted in the chilly Gobi sky. The ship, no longer visible to the naked eye, pressed onward toward orbit. Its deafening roar dwindled to a distant rumbling thunder.

“Perfect launch,” Venkat said enthusiastically.

“Of course,” said Zhu Tao.

“You guys really came through for us,” Venkat said. “And we’re grateful!”

“Naturally.”

“And hey, you guys get a seat on Ares 5. Everyone wins.”

“Mmm.”

Venkat looked at Zhu Tao sideways. “You don’t seem too happy.”