The Martian

NASA is good at making things. I am not. The dangerous part of this structure won’t be the canvas. It’ll be the seams. And I get less total seam length by not trying to use the existing pop-tent canvas.

After hacking away most of the remaining tent, I seal-stripped the two pop-tent floors together. Then I sealed the new canvas pieces in to place.

It was so much easier without the EVA suit on. So much easier!

Then I had to test it. Again, I did it in the Hab. I brought an EVA suit in to the tent with me and closed the mini-airlock door. Then I fired up the EVA suit, leaving the helmet off. I told it to bump the pressure up to 1.2 atm.

It took a little while to bring it up to par, and I had to disable some alarms on the suit. (“Hey, I’m pretty sure the helmet’s not on!”). It depleted most of the N2 tank, but was finally able to bring the pressure up.

Then I sat around and waited. I breathed, the suit regulated the air. All was well. I watched the suit readouts carefully to see if it had to replace any “lost” air. After an hour with no noticeable change, I declared the first test a success.

I rolled up the whole thing (wadded up, really) and took it out to the rover.

You know, I suit up a lot these days. I bet that’s another record I hold. A typical Martian astronaut does, what, 40 EVAs? I’ve done several hundred.

Once I brought the bedroom to the rover, I attached it to the airlock from the inside. Then I pulled the release to let it loose. I was still wearing my EVA suit, cause I’m not an idiot.

It fired out and filled in three seconds. The open airlock hatchway led directly to the bedroom, and it appeared to be holding pressure.

Just like before, I let it sit for an hour. And just like before, it worked great. Unlike the Hab canvas resealing, I got this one right on the first try. Mostly because I didn’t have to do it with a damn EVA suit on.

Originally I planned to let it sit overnight and check in the morning. But I ran in to a  problem: I can’t get out if I do that. The rover only has one airlock, and the bedroom was attached to it. There was no way for me to get out without detaching the bedroom, and no way to attach and pressurize the bedroom without being inside the rover.

It’s a little scary. The first time I test the thing overnight will be with me in it. But that’ll be later. I’ve done enough today.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 390

I have to face facts. I’m done with the rover. I don’t “feel” like I’m done. But it’s ready to go:

Food: 1,692 potatoes. Vitamin pills.

Water: 620L.

Shelter: Rover, trailer, bedroom.

Air: Rover and trailer combined storage: 14L liquid O2, 14L liquid N2.

Life Support: Oxygenator and Atmospheric Regulator. 418 hours of use-and-discard CO2 filters for emergencies.

Power: 36kwh of storage. Carrying capacity for 29 solar cells.

Heat: 1400W RTG. Homemade reservoir to heat regulator’s return air. Electric heater in rover as a backup.

Disco: Lifetime supply.

I’m leaving here on Sol 449. That gives me 59 sols to test everything and fix whatever isn’t working right. And decide what’s coming with me and what’s staying behind. And plot a route to Schiaparelli using a grainy satellite map. And rack my brains trying to think of anything important I forgot.

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 some encouragement. I need to ask myself: “What would an Apollo astronaut do?”

He’d drink 3 whiskey sours, bang his mistress, then fly to the moon. And if he ever met a botanist like me he’d dispense a wedgie on principle.

To hell with those guys. I’m a Space Pirate!

Chapter 21

LOG ENTRY: SOL 431

I’m working out how to pack. It’s harder than it sounds.

I have two pressure vessels: The rover and the trailer. They’re connected by hoses, but they’re also not stupid. If one loses pressure, the other will instantly seal off the shared lines.

There’s a grim logic to this: If the rover breaches I’m dead. No point in planning around that. But if the trailer breaches, I’ll be fine. That means I should put everything important in the rover. If I’m going to die, I may as well take all the delicate stuff with me.

Everything that goes in the trailer has to be comfortable in near-vacuum and freezing temperatures. Not that I anticipate that, but you know. Plan for the worst.

There isn’t much room to spare. It’ll have two bulky Hab batteries, the Atmospheric Regulator, the Oxygenator and my home-made heat reservoir. It would be more convenient to have the reservoir in the rover, but it has to be near the Regulator’s return air feed.

It’ll be cramped, but there will be some empty spaces. And I know just how to fill them: Taters!

Nothing “bad” can happen to the potatoes. They’re already dead. I’ve been storing them outside for months anyway. Also, they’re small and not delicate. They probably won’t all fit, so some will have to ride with me.