LOG ENTRY: SOL 458
Mawrth Vallis! I'm finally here!
Actually, it's not an impressive accomplishment. I've only been
traveling 10 sols. But it's a good psychological milestone.
So far, the rover and my ghetto life support are working admirably. At
least, as well as can be expected for equipment being used ten times
longer than intended.
Today is my second Air Day (the first was 5 sols ago). When I put
this scheme together, I figured Air Days would be godawful boring. But
now I look forward to them. They're my days off.
On a normal day I get up, fold up the bedroom, stack the solar cells,
drive four hours, set up the solar cells, unfurl the bedroom, check all my
equipment (especially the rover chassis and wheels), then make a Morse
Code status report for NASA if I can find enough nearby rocks.
On an Air Day, I wake up and turn on the Oxygenator. The solar
panels are already out from the day before. Everything's ready to go.
Then I chill out in the bedroom or rover. I have the whole day to myself.
The bedroom gives me enough space that I don't feel cooped up, and the
computer has plenty of shitty TV reruns for me to enjoy.
Technically, I entered Mawrth Vallis yesterday. But I only knew that
by looking at a map. The entrance to the valley is wide enough that I
couldn't see the canyon walls in either direction.
But now I'm definitely in a canyon. And the bottom is nice and flat.
Exactly what I was hoping for. It's amazing; this valley wasn't made by a
river slowly carving it away. It was made by a mega-flood in a single day.
It would have been a hell of a thing to see.
Weird thought: I'm not in Acidalia Planitia any more. I spent 457 sols
there, almost a year and a half, and I'll never go back. I wonder if I'll be
nostalgic about that later in life.
If there is a “later in life,” I'll be happy to endure a little nostalgia inreturn. But for now I just want to go home.
“Welcome back to CNN's Mark Watney Report,” Cathy said to the
camera. “We're speaking with our frequent guest, Dr. Venkat Kapoor. Dr.
Kapoor, I guess what people want to know is: Is Mark Watney doomed?”
“We hope not,” Venkat responded. “But he's got a real challenge
ahead of him.”
“According to your latest satellite data, the dust storm in Arabia Terra
isn't abating at all, and will block 80% of the sunlight?”
“That's correct.”
“And can Watney's only source of energy is his solar panels, correct?”
“Yes, that's right.”
“Can his makeshift rover operate at 20% power?”
“We haven't found any way to make that happen, no. His life support
alone takes more energy than that.”
“How long until he enters the Tau Event.”
“He's just entered Mawrth Vallis now. At his current rate of travel,
he'll be at the edge of the Tau Event on Sol 471. That's 12 days from
now.”
“Surely he'll see something is wrong,” Cathy said. “With such low
visibility, it won't take long for him to realize his solar cells will have a
problem. Couldn't he just turn around at that point?”
“Unfortunately, everything's working against him,” Venkat said. “The
edge of the storm isn't a magic line. It's just an area where the dust gets a
little more dense. It'll keep getting more and more dense as he travels
onward. It'll be really subtle; every day will be slightly darker than the
last. Too subtle to notice.”
Venkat sighed. “He'll go hundreds of kilometers, wondering why his
solar panel efficiency is going down, before he's notices any visibility
problems. And the storm is moving west as he moves east. He'll be too
deep in to get out.”
“Are we just watching a tragedy play out?” Cathy asked.
“There's always hope,” Venkat said. “Maybe he'll figure it out fasterthan we think and turn around in time. Maybe the storm will dissipate
unexpectedly. Maybe he'll find a way to keep his life support going on
less energy than we thought was possible. Mark Watney is now an expert
at surviving on Mars. If anyone can do it, it's him.”
“Twelve days,” Cathy said to the camera. “All of Earth is watching,
but powerless to help.”
LOG ENTRY: SOL 462
Another uneventful sol. Tomorrow is an Air Day, so this is kind of my
Friday night.
I'm about half-way through Mawrth Vallis now. Just as I'd hoped, the
going has been easy. No major elevation changes. Hardly any obstacles.
Just smooth sand with rocks smaller than half a meter.
You may be wondering how I navigate. When I went to Pathfinder, I
watched Phobos transit the sky to figure out the east-west axis. But
Pathfinder was an easy trip compared to this, and I did it mostly with
landmarks.
I can't get away with that this time. My “map” (such as it is) consists
of satellite images far too low-resolution to be of any use. They just never
expected me to be out this far. The only reason I had high-res images of
the Pathfinder region is because they were included for landing purposes;
in case Martinez had to land way long of our target.
So this time around, I needed a reliable way to fix my position on
Mars.
Latitude and Longitude. That's the key. The first is easy. Ancient
sailors on Earth figured that one out right away. Earth's 23.5 degree axis
points at Polaris. Mars has a tilt of just over 25 degrees, so it's pointed at
Deneb.
Making a sextant isn't hard. All you need is a tube to look through, a
string, a weight, and something with degree markings. I made it in under
an hour.
So I go out every night with a home-made sextant and sight Deneb.It's kind of silly if you think about it. I'm in my space suit on Mars and
I'm navigating with 16th century tools. But hey, they work.
Longitude is a different matter. On Earth, the earliest way to work out
longitude required them to know the exact time, then compare it to the
sun's position in the sky. The hard part for them back then was inventing
a clock that would work on a boat (pendulums don't work on boats). All
the top scientific minds of the age worked on the problem.
Fortunately, I have accurate clocks. There are four computers in my
immediate line of sight right now. And I have Phobos.
Because Phobos is ridiculously close to Mars, it orbits the planet in
less than one Martian day. So it travels west to east (unlike the sun and
Deimos) and sets every 11 hours. And naturally, it moves in a very
predictable pattern.
I spend 13 hours every sol just sitting around while the solar panels
charge the batteries. Phobos is guaranteed to set at least once during that
time. I note the time when it does. Then I plug it in to a nasty formula I
worked out and I know my longitude.
So, working out longitude requires Phobos to set, and working out
latitude requires it to be night so I can sight Deneb. It's not a very fast
system. But I only need it once a day. I work out my location when I'm
parked, and account for it in the next day's travel. It's kind of a successive
approximation thing. So far, it's been working.
Mindy Park zoomed in on the latest satellite photo with practiced
ease. Watney's encampment was visible in the center, the solar cells laid
out in a circular pattern as was his habit.
The bedroom was inflated. Checking the timestamp on the image, it
was from noon local time. She quickly found the status report; Watney
always placed it close to the rover when rocks were in abundance, usually
to the north.
To save time, Mindy had taught herself Morse Code so she wouldn't
have to look each letter up every morning. Opening an email, she
addressed it to the ever-growing list of people who wanted Watney's dailystatus message.
“ON TRACK FOR SOL 495 ARRIVAL.”
She frowned and added “Note: 5 sols until Tau Event entry.”
LOG ENTRY: SOL 466
Mawrth Vallis was fun while it lasted. I'm in Arabia Terra now.
I just entered the edge of it, if my latitude and longitude calculations
are correct. But even without the math, it's pretty obvious the terrain is
changing.
For the last two sols, I've spent almost all my time on an incline,
working my way up the back wall of Mawrth Vallis. It was a gentle rise,
but a constant one. I'm at a much higher altitude now. Adicalia Planitia
(where the lonely Hab is hanging out) is 3000m below elevation zero, and
Arabia Terra is 500m below. So I've gone up two and a half kilometers.
Want to know what's at elevation zero? On Earth, it's sea level.
Obviously, that won't work on Mars. So lab-coated geeks got together and
decided Mars's elevation zero is wherever the air pressure is 610.5
Pascals. That's about 500 meters up from where I am right now.
Now things get tricky. In Acidalia Planitia, if I got off-course, I could
just point in the right direction based on new data. Later, in Mawrth
Vallis, it was impossible to fuck it up. I just had to follow the canyon.
Now I'm in a rougher neighborhood. The kind of neighborhood where
you keep your rover doors locked, and never come to a complete stop at
intersections. Well, not really, but it's bad to get off-course here.
Arabia Terra has large, brutal craters that I have to drive around. If I
navigate poorly, I'll end up at the edge of one. I can't just drive down one
side and up the other. Rising in elevation costs a ton of energy. On flat
ground, I can make 90km per day. On a steep slope, I'd be lucky to get
40km. Plus, driving on a slope is dangerous. One mistake and I could roll
the rover. I don't even want to think about that.
Yes, I'll eventually have to drive down in to Schiaparelli. No way
around that. I'll have to be really careful.Anyway, if I end up at the edge of a crater I'll have to backtrack to
somewhere useful. And it's a damn maze of craters out here. I'll have to
be on my guard; observant at all times. I'll need to navigate with
landmarks as well as latitude and longitude.
My first challenge is to pass between the craters Rutherford and
Trouvelot. It shouldn't be too hard. They're 100km apart. Even I can't
fuck that up, right?
Right?
LOG ENTRY: SOL 468
I managed to thread the needle between Rutherford and Trouvelot
nicely. Admittedly, the needle was a 100km wide, but hey.
I'm now enjoying my fourth Air Day of the trip. I've been on the road
for 20 sols. So far, I'm right on schedule. According to my maps, I've
traveled 1,440km. Not quite halfway there, but almost.
I've been gathering soil and rock samples from each place I camp. I
did the same thing on my way to Pathfinder. But this time, I know
NASA's watching me. So I'm labeling each sample by the current sol.
They'll know my location a hell of a lot more accurately than I do. They
can correlate the samples with their locations later.
It might be a wasted effort. The MAV isn't going to have much weight
allowance when I launch. To intercept Hermes, it'll have to reach escape
velocity, but it was only designed to get to orbit. The only way to get it
going fast enough is to lose a lot of weight.
At least that jury-rigging will be NASA's job to work out, not mine.
Once I get to the MAV, I'll be back in contact with them and they can tell
me what modifications to make.
They'll probably say “Thanks for gathering samples. But leave them
behind. And one of your arms, too. Whichever one you like least.” But on
the off-chance I can bring them, I'm gathering them.
The next few days travel should be easy. The next major obstacle is
Marth Crater. It's right in my straight-line path toward Schiaparelli. It'llcost me a hundred kilometers or so to go around, but it can't be helped.
I'll try to aim for the southern edge. The closer I get to the rim the less
time I waste going around it.
“Did you read today's updates?” Lewis asked, pulling her meal from
the microwave.
“Yeah,” Martinez said, sipping his drink.
She sat across the Rec table from him. Carefully opening the
steaming package, she let it cool for a moment before eating. “Mark
entered the dust storm yesterday.”
“Yeah, I saw that,” he said.
“We need to face the possibility that he won't make it to
Schiaparelli,” Lewis said. “If that happens, we need to keep morale up.
We still have a long way to go before we get home.”
“He was dead before,” Martinez said. “It was rough on morale, but we
soldiered on. Besides, he won't die.”
“It's pretty bleak, Rick,” Lewis said. “He's already 50km in to the
storm, and he'll go another 90km per sol. He'll get in too deep to recover
soon.”
Martinez shook his head. “He'll pull through, Commander. Have
faith.”
She smiled forlornly. “Rick, you know I'm not religious.”
“I know,” he said. “I'm not talking about faith in God, I'm talking
about faith in Mark Watney. Look at all the shit Mars has thrown at him,
and he's still alive. He'll survive this. I don't know how, but he will. He's a
clever son-of-a-bitch.”
Lewis took a bite of her food. “I hope you're right.”
“Want to bet $100?” Martinez said with a smile.
“Of course not,” Lewis said.
“Damn right,” he smiled.
“I'd never bet on a crewmate dying,” Lewis said. “But that doesn't
mean I think he'll-”
“Blah blah blah,” Martinez interrupted. “Deep down, you think he'llmake it.”
LOG ENTRY: SOL 473
My fifth Air Day, and things are going well. I should be skimming
south of Marth Crater tomorrow. It'll get easier after that.
I'm in the middle of a bunch of craters that form a triangle. I'm
calling it the Watney Triangle because after what I've been through, shit
on Mars should be named after me.
Trouvelot, Becquerel, and Marth form the points of the triangle, with
5 other major craters along the sides. Normally this wouldn't be a
problem at all, but with my extremely rough navigation, I could easily
end up at the lip of one of them and have to backtrack.
After Marth, I'll be out of the Watney Triangle (yeah, I'm liking that
name more and more). Then I can beeline toward Schiaparelli with
impunity. There'll still be plenty of craters in the way, but they're
comparatively small and going around them won't cost much time.
Progress has been great. Arabia Terra is certainly rockier than
Acidalia Planitia, but nowhere near as bad as I'd feared. I've been able to
drive over most of the rocks, and around the ones that are too big.
I have 1435km left to go. Ares 4's MAV is in the southwest part of
Schiaparelli. The primary goal of Ares 4 is to get a look at the long-term
effects of Martian weather on deep layers of strata exposed by the crater.
At least, that was the original plan. I'll be taking their MAV and
Commander Lewis hasn't given Hermes back, so we've ruined everything.
They'll probably just send another MAV and wait for the next window.
I did some research on Schiaparelli and found some good news. The
best way in is right in my direct-line path. I won't have to drive the
perimeter at all. And the way in is easy to find, even when you suck at
navigating. The northwest rim has a smaller crater on it, and that's the
landmark I'll be looking for. To the southwest of that little crater is a
gentle slope in to Schiaparelli Basin.
The little crater doesn't have a name. At least, not on the maps I have.So I dub it “Entrance Crater.” Because I can.
In other news, my equipment is starting to show signs of age. Not
surprising, considering it's way the hell past its expiration date. For the
past two sols, the batteries have taken longer to recharge. The solar cells
just aren't producing as much wattage as before. It's not a big deal, I just
need to charge a little longer.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 474
Well, I fucked it up.
It was bound to happen eventually. I navigated badly and ended up at
the ridge of Marth Crater. With it being 100km wide, I can't see the
whole thing, so I don't know where on the circle I am.
The ridge runs perpendicular to the direction I was going. So I have
no clue which way I should go. And I don't want to take the long way
around if I can avoid it. Originally I wanted to go around to the south, but
north is just as likely to be the best path now that I'm off-course.
I'll have to wait for another Phobos transit to get my longitude, and
I'll need to wait for nightfall to sight Deneb for my latitude. So I'm done
driving for the day. I'd made 70km out of the 90km I usually do. So it's
not too much wasted potential driving.
Marth isn't too steep. I could probably just drive down one side and
up the other. It's big enough that I'd end up camping inside it one night.
But I don't want to take unnecessary risks. Slopes are bad and should be
avoided. I gave myself plenty of buffer time, so I'm going to play it safe.
I'm ending today's drive early and setting up for recharge. Probably a
good idea anyway with the solar cells acting up; it'll give them more time
to work. They underperformed again last night. I checked all the
connections and made sure there wasn't any dust on them, but they still
just aren't 100%.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 475I'm in trouble.
I watched two Phobos transits yesterday and sighted Deneb last night.
I worked out my location as accurately as I could, and it wasn't what I
wanted to see. As far as I can tell, I hit Marth Crater dead-on.
Craaaaap.
This is the worst case scenario. I can go north or south, and they'll be
about the same. It'll cost at least a day to correct. All because I aimed
wrong yesterday.
That's frustrating, but it's not why I'm in trouble.
I still wanted to be efficient, and I wasn't 100% sure where I was. So I
took a little walk this morning. It was over a kilometer to the peak of the
rim. That's the sort of walk people do on Earth without thinking twice,
but in an EVA suit it's an ordeal.
I can't wait till I have grandchildren. “When I was younger, I had to
walk to the rim of a crater. Uphill! In an EVA suit! On Mars, ya little
shit! Ya hear me? Mars!”
Anyway, I got up to the rim and damn, it's a beautiful sight. From my
high vantage point, I got a stunning panorama. I figured I might be able
to see the far side of Marth Crater, and maybe work out if north or south
was the best way around it.
But I couldn't see the far side. There was a haze in the air. It's not
uncommon; Mars has weather and wind and dust, after all. But it seemed
hazier than it should. I'm accustomed to the wide-open expanses of
Acidalia Planitia, my former prairie home.
Then it got weirder. I turned around and looked back toward the rover
and trailer. Everything was where I'd left it (very few car thieves on
Mars). But the view seemed a lot clearer.
I looked east across Marth again. Then west to the horizon. Then east,
then west. Each turn required me to rotate my whole body, EVA suits
being what they are.
Yesterday, I passed a crater. It's about 50km west of here. It's just
visible on the horizon. But looking east, I can't see anywhere near that
far. Marth Crater is 110km wide. With a visibility of 50km, I should atleast be able to see a distinct curvature of the rim. But I can't.
The fuck?
At first, I didn't know what to make of it. But the lack of symmetry
bothered me. And I've learned to be suspicious of everything. That's
when a bunch of stuff started to dawn on me:
1) The only explanation for asymmetrical visibility is a dust storm.
2) Dust storms reduce the effectiveness of solar cells.
3) My solar cells have been slowly losing effectiveness for several
sols.
From this, I concluded the following:
1) I've been in a dust storm for several sols.
2) Shit.
Not only am I in a dust storm, but it gets thicker as I approach
Schiaparelli. A few hours ago, I was worried because I had to go around
Marth Crater. Now I'm going to have to go around something a fuckload
bigger.
And I have to hustle. Dust storms move. Sitting still means I'll likely
get overwhelmed. But which way do I go? It's no longer an issue of trying
to be efficient. If I go the wrong way this time, I'll eat dust and die.
I don't have satellite imagery. I have no way of knowing the size or
shape of the storm, or its heading. Man, I'd give anything for a 5-minute
conversation with NASA. Now that I think of it, NASA must be shitting
bricks watching this play out.
I'm on the clock. I have to figure out how to figure out what I need to
know about the storm. And I have to do it now.
And right this second nothing comes to mind.
Mindy trudged to her computer. Today's shift began at 2:10pm. Her
schedule matched Watney's every day. She slept when he slept. Watneysimply slept at night on Mars, while Mindy had to drift 40 minutes
forward every day, taping aluminum foil to her windows to get any sleep
at all.
She brought up the most recent satellite images. She cocked an
eyebrow. He had not broken camp yet. Usually he drove in the early
morning, as soon as it was light enough to navigate. Then he capitalized
on the midday sun to maximize recharging.
But today, he had not moved, and it was well past morning.
She checked around the rovers and bedroom for a message. She found
it in the usual place (north of the campsite). Reading the Morse code, her
eyes widened.
“DUST STORM. MAKING PLAN.”
Fumbling with her cell phone, she dialed Venkat's personal number.