Chapter 24
The department heads stared at the satellite image on the projection screen.
“Jesus,” Mitch said. “What the hell happened?”
“The rover’s on its side,” Mindy said, pointing to the screen. “The trailer’s upside down. Those rectangles scattered around are solar cells.”
Venkat put a hand on his chin. “Do we have any information on the state of the rover pressure vessel?”
“Nothing obvious,” Mindy said.
“Any signs of Watney doing something after the accident? An EVA maybe?”
“No EVA,” Mindy said. “The weather’s clear. If he’d come out, there’d be visible footsteps.”
“Is this the entire crash site?” Bruce Ng asked.
“I think so,” Mindy said. “Up toward the top of the photo, which is north, there are ordinary wheel tracks. Right here,” she pointed to a large disturbance in the soil, “is where I think things went wrong. Judging by where that ditch is, I’d say the rover rolled and slid from there.
You can see the trench it left behind. The trailer flipped forward onto its roof. ”
“I’m not saying everything’s okay,” Bruce said, “but I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks.”
“Go on,” Venkat said.
“The rover’s designed to handle a roll,” Bruce explained. “And if there’d been pressure loss, there’d be a starburst pattern in the sand. I don’t see anything like that.”
“Watney may still be hurt inside,” Mitch said. “He could have banged his head or broken an arm or something.”
“Sure,” Bruce said. “I’m just saying the rover is probably okay.”
“When was this taken?”
Mindy checked her watch. “We got it seventeen minutes ago. We’ll get another pic in nine minutes when MGS4’s orbit brings it into view.”
“First thing he’ll do is an EVA to assess damage,” Venkat said. “Mindy, keep us posted on any changes.”
LOG ENTRY: SOL 498
Hmm.
Yeah.
Things didn’t go well on the descent into Schiaparelli Basin. To give you some indication of how unwell they went, I’m reaching up to the computer to type this. Because it’s still mounted near the control panel, and the rover is on its side.
I got bounced around a lot, but I’m a well-honed machine in times of crisis. As soon as the rover toppled, I curled into a ball and cowered. That’s the kind of action hero I am.
It worked, too. ’Cause I’m not hurt.
The pressure vessel is intact, so that’s a plus. The valves that lead to the trailer hoses are shut. Probably means the hoses disconnected. And that means the trailer junction snapped. Wonderful.
Looking around the interior here, I don’t think anything is broken. The water tanks stayed sealed. There aren’t any visible leaks in the air tanks. The bedroom came unfolded, and it’s all over the place, but it’s just canvas, so it can’t have gotten too hurt.
The driving controls are okay, and the nav computer is telling me the rover is at an “unacceptably dangerous tilt.” Thanks, Nav!
So I rolled. That’s not the end of the world.
I’m alive and the rover’s fine. I’m more worried about the solar cells I probably rolled over.
Also, since the trailer detached, there’s a good chance it’s fucked up, too.
The balloon roof it has isn’t exactly durable.
If it popped, the shit inside will have been flung out in all directions and I’ll have to go find it. That’s my critical life support.
Speaking of life support, the rover switched over to the local tanks when the valves shut. Good boy, Rover! Here’s a Scooby Snack.
I’ve got twenty liters of oxygen (enough to keep me breathing for forty days), but without the regulator (which is in the trailer) I’m back to chemical CO 2 absorption.
I have 312 hours of filters left. Plus I have another 171 hours of EVA suit CO 2 filters as well.
All told, that gives me 483 hours, which is close to twenty sols.
So I have time to get things working again.
I’m really damn close to the MAV now. About 220 kilometers.
I’m not going to let something like this stop me from getting there.
And I don’t need everything to work at top form anymore.
I just need the rover to work for 220 more kilometers and the life support to work for fifty-one more sols. That’s it.
Time to suit up and look for the trailer.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 498 (2)
I had an EVA and things aren’t too bad. Mind you, they’re not good.
I trashed three solar cells. They’re under the rover and cracked all to hell.
They might still be able to piss out a few watts, but I’m not holding out much hope.
Luckily, I did come into this with one extra solar cell.
I needed twenty-eight for my daily operations and I brought twenty-nine (fourteen on the rover’s roof, seven on the trailer’s roof, and eight on the makeshift shelves I installed on the sides of both vehicles).
I tried pushing the rover over, but I wasn’t strong enough. I’ll need to rig something to get a leverage advantage. Other than being on its side, I don’t see any real problems.
Well, that’s not true. The tow hook is ruined beyond repair. Half of it ripped clean off. Fortunately, the trailer also has a tow hook, so I have a spare.
The trailer’s in a precarious situation.
It’s upside down and sitting on the inflated roof.
I’m not sure which god smiled down on me and kept that balloon from popping, but I’m grateful.
My first priority will be righting it. The longer it puts weight on that balloon, the larger the chances it’ll pop.
While I was out, I collected the twenty-six solar cells that aren’t under the rover and set them up to recharge my batteries. May as well, right?
So right now, I have a few problems to tackle: First, I need to right the trailer. Or at least get the weight off the balloon. Next, I need to right the rover. Finally, I need to replace the rover’s tow hook with the one on the trailer.
Also, I should spell out a message for NASA. They’re probably worried.
■■■
Mindy read the Morse code aloud. “ROLLED. FIXING NOW.”
“What? That’s it?” Venkat said over the phone.
“That’s all he said,” she reported, cradling the phone as she typed out an e-mail to the list of interested parties.
“Just three words? Nothing about his physical health? His equipment? His supplies?”
“You got me,” she said. “He left a detailed status report. I just decided to lie for no reason.”
“Funny,” Venkat said. “Be a smart-ass to a guy seven levels above you at your company. See how that works out.”
“Oh no,” Mindy said. “I might lose my job as an interplanetary voyeur? I guess I’d have to use my master’s degree for something else.”
“I remember when you were shy.”
“I’m space paparazzi now. The attitude comes with the job.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Venkat said. “Just send the e-mail.”
“Already sent.”
LOG ENTRY: SOL 499
I had a busy day today, and I got a lot done.
I started out pretty sore. I had to sleep on the wall of the rover. The bedroom won’t work when the airlock is facing up. I did get to use the bedroom, somewhat. I folded it up and used it as a bed.
Anyway, suffice it to say, the wall of the rover wasn’t made for sleeping on. But after a morning potato and Vicodin, I was feeling much better.
At first I figured my top priority was the trailer. Then I changed my mind. After taking a good look at it, I decided I’d never be able to right it by myself. I’d need the rover.
So today was focused on getting the rover righted.
I brought all my tools along on this trip, figuring I’d need them for the MAV modifications.
And along with them I brought cabling. Once I get set up at the MAV, my solar cells and batteries will be in a fixed position.
I don’t want to move the rover around every time I use a drill on the far side of the MAV.
So I brought all the electrical cabling I could fit.
Good thing, too. Because it doubles as rope.
I dug up my longest cable. It’s the same one I used to power the drill that destroyed Pathfinder . I call it my “lucky cable.”
I plugged one end into the battery and the other into the infamous sample drill, then walked off with the drill to find solid ground.
Once I found it, I kept going until I’d gone as far as the electrical line would reach.
I drove a one-meter bit half a meter into a rock, unplugged the power line, and tied it around the base of the bit.
Then I went back to the rover and tied off the cord to the roof-rack bar on the high side. Now I had a long, taut line running perpendicular to the rover.
I walked to the middle of the cord and pulled it laterally. The leverage advantage on the rover was huge. I only hoped it wouldn’t break the drill bit before it tipped the rover.
I backed away, pulling the line more and more. Something had to give, and it wasn’t going to be me. I had Archimedes on my side. The rover finally tipped.
It fell onto its wheels, kicking up a large cloud of soft dust. It was a silent affair. I was far enough away that the thin atmosphere had no hope of carrying the sound to me.
I untied the power line, liberated the drill bit, and returned to the rover. I gave it a full system’s check. That’s a boring-as-hell task, but I had to do it.
Every system and subsystem was working correctly. JPL did a damn good job making these rovers. If I get back to Earth, I’m buying Bruce Ng a beer. Though I guess I should buy all the JPL guys a beer.
Beers for everyone if I get back to Earth.
Anyway, with the rover back on its wheels it was time to work on the trailer. Problem is, I ran out of daylight. Remember, I’m in a crater.
I had gotten part of the way down the Ramp when I rolled the rover. And the Ramp is up against the western edge of the crater. So the sun sets really early from my point of view. I’m in the shadow of the western wall. And that royally sucks.