“Yes he would,” Venkat said. “Damn it. We’ve had teams run every conceivable scenario. There’s just no way he can make it to Ares 4 with that set-up. We never saw him load up the Oxygenator or Water Reclaimer. He can’t possibly have enough basics to live long enough.”
“I don’t think he’s going to Ares 4,” Mindy said. “If he is, he’s taking a weird path.”
“Oh?” said Venkat.
“He went south-southwest. Schiaparelli Crater is southeast.”
“Ok, maybe there’s hope,” Venkat said. “What’s he doing right now?”
“Recharging. He’s got all the solar cells set up,” Mindy said. “Last time he did that, it took 12 hours. I was going to sneak home for some sleep if that’s ok.”
“Sure, sounds good. We’ll see what he does tomorrow. Maybe he’ll go back to the Hab.”
“Maybe,” Mindy said, unconvinced.
“Welcome back,” Cathy said to the camera. “We’re chatting with Marcus Washington, from the US Postal Service. So, Mr. Washington, I understand the Ares 3 mission caused a Postal Service first. Can you explain to our viewers?”
“Uh yeah,” said Marcus. “Everyone thought he was dead for over two months. In that time, the Postal Service issued a run of commemorative stamps honoring his memory. 20,000 were printed, and sent to post offices around the country.”
“And then it turned out he was alive,” Cathy said.
“Yeah,” said Marcus. “We stopped the run immediately and recalled the stamps, but thousands were already sold. The thing is, we don’t print stamps of living people.”
“Has this ever happened before?” Cathy asked.
“No. Not once in the history of the Postal Service.”
“I bet they’re worth a pretty penny now.”
Marcus chuckled. “Maybe. But not too much. Like I said, thousands were sold. They’ll be rare, but not super rare.”
Cathy chuckled then addressed the camera. “We’ve been speaking with Marcus Washington of the United States Postal Service. If you’ve got a Mark Watney commemorative stamp, you might want to hold on to it. Thanks for dropping by, Mr. Washington.”
“Thanks for having me,” Marcus said.
“Our next guest is Dr. Irene Shields, Flight Psychologist for the Ares missions. Dr. Shields, welcome to the program.”
“Thank you,” Irene said, adjusting her microphone clip.
“Do you know Mark Watney personally?”
“Of course,” Irene said. “I did monthly psych evaluations on each member of the crew.”
“What can you tell us about him? His personality, his mindset?”
“Well,” Irene said, “He’s very intelligent. All of them are, of course. But he’s particularly resourceful and a good problem-solver.”
“That may save his life,” Cathy interjected.
“It may indeed,” Irene agreed. “Also, he’s a good-natured man. Usually cheerful, with a great sense of humor. He’s quick with a joke. In the months leading up to launch, the crew was put through a grueling training schedule. They all showed signs of stress and moodiness. Mark was no exception, but the way he showed it was to crack more jokes and get everyone laughing.”
“He sounds like a great guy,” Cathy said.
“He really is,” Irene said. “He was chosen for the mission in part because of his personality. An Ares crew has to spend 13 months together. Social compatibility is key. Mark not only fits well in any social group, he’s a catalyst to make the group work better. It was a terrible blow to the crew when he ‘died.’”
“And they still think he’s dead, right? The Ares 3 crew?”
“Yes they do, unfortunately,” Irene confirmed. “The higher-ups decided to keep it from them, at least for now. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision.”
Cathy paused for a moment, then said. “All right. You know I have to ask: What’s going through his head right now? How does a man like Mark Watney respond to a situation like this? Stranded, alone, no idea we’re trying to help?”
“There’s no way to be sure,” Irene said. “The biggest threat is giving up hope. If he decides there’s no chance to survive, he’ll stop trying.”
“Then we’re ok for now, right?” Cathy said. “He seems to be working hard. He’s prepping the rover for a long trip and testing it. He plans to be there when Ares 4 lands.”
“That’s one interpretation, yes,” Irene said.
“Is there another?”
Irene carefully formed her answer before speaking. “When facing death, people want to be heard. They don’t want to die alone. He might just want the MAV radio so he can talk to another soul before he dies.
“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 than starvation. The medical supplies of an Ares mission have enough morphine to be lethal.”
After several seconds of complete silence in the studio, Cathy turned to the camera. “We’ll be right back.”
“Heya, Venk,” came Bruce’s voice from the speakerphone.
“Bruce, Hi,” said Venkat. “Thanks for clearing up some time. I wanted to talk about the presupply.”
“Sure thing. What’s on your mind?”
“Let’s say we soft-land it perfectly. How will Mark know it happened? And how will he know where to look?”
“We’ve been thinking about that,” said Bruce. “We’ve got some ideas.”
“I’m all ears,” Venkat said.
“We’ll be sending him a comm system anyway, right? We could have it turn on after lading. It’ll broadcast on the rover and EVA suit frequencies. It’ll have to be a strong signal, too.
“The rovers were only designed to communicate with the Hab and each other; the signal origin was presumed to be within 20km. The receivers just aren’t very sensitive. The EVA suits are even worse. But as long as we have a strong signal we should be good.
“Once we land the presupply, we’ll get its exact location from satellites, then broadcast that to Mark so he can go get it.”
“But he’s probably not listening,” said Venkat. “Why would he be?”
“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’s atmosphere. Each ribbon will have ‘MARK: TURN ON YOUR COMM’ printed on it. We’re working on a release mechanism now. During the landing sequence, of course. Ideally, about 1000 meters above the surface.”
“I like it,” Venkat said. “All he needs to do is notice one. And he’s sure to check out a bright green ribbon if he sees one outside.”
“That’s what we’re thinking,” said Bruce.
“All right, good work. Keep me posted,” Venkat said.
“Venk,” said Bruce. “If he takes the ‘Watneymobile’ to Ares 4, this’ll all be for nothing. I mean, we can land it at Ares 4 if that happens, but…”
“But he’ll be without a Hab. Yeah,” Venkat said. “One thing at a time. Let me know when you come up with a release mechanism for those ribbons.”
“Will do.”
After terminating the call, he saw an email from Mindy Park arrive. “Watney’s on the move again.”
“Still going in a straight line,” Mindy said, pointing to her monitor.
“I see,” Venkat said. “He’s sure as hell not going to Ares 4. Unless he’s going around some natural obstacle.”
“There’s nothing for him to go around,” Mindy said. “It’s Acidalia Planitia.”
“Are those the solar cells?” Venkat asked, pointing to the screen.
“Yeah,” Mindy said. “He did the usual 2 hour drive, EVA, 2 hour drive. He’s 156km from the Hab now.”
They both peered at the screen.
“Wait…” Venkat said. “Wait, no way…”
“What?” Mindy asked.
Venkat grabbed a pad of Post-Its and a pen. “Give me his location, and the location of the Hab.”
Mindy checked her screen. “He’s currently at… 28.9°N, 29.6°W.” With a few keystrokes, she brought up another file. “The Hab’s at 31.2°N, 28.5°W. What do you see?”
Venkat finished taking down the numbers. “Come with me,” he said, quickly walking out.
“Um,” Mindy stammered, following after. “Where are we going?” She asked when she caught up.
“SatCon break room,” Venkat said. “You guys still have that map of Mars on the wall?”
“Sure,” Mindy said.