Chapter 23

LOG ENTRY: SOL 476

I think I can work this out.

I'm on the very edge of a storm. I don't know its size or heading. But

it's moving, and that's something I can take advantage of. I don't have to

wander around exploring it. It'll come to me.

The storm is just dust in the air; it's not dangerous to the rovers. I can

think of it as “Percent power loss.” I checked yesterdays power

generation and it was 97% of optimal. So right now, it's a 3% storm.

I need to make progress and I need to regenerate oxygen. Those are

my two main goals. I use 20% of my overall power to reclaim oxygen

(when I stop for Air Days). If I end up in an 81% part of the storm, I'll be

in real trouble. I'll run out of oxygen even if I dedicate all available

power to it. That's the fatal scenario. But really, it's fatal much earlier

than that. I need power to move or I'll be stranded until the storm passes

or dissipates. That could be months.

The more power I generate, the more I'll have for movement. With

clear skies, I dedicate 80% of my total power toward movement. I get

90km per sol this way. So Right now, at 3% loss, I'm getting 3.3km less

than I should.

It's ok to lose some driving distance per sol. I have plenty of time, but

I can't let myself get too deep in the storm or I'll never be able to get out.

At the very least, I need to travel faster than the storm. If I can go

faster, I can maneuver around it without being enveloped. I need to find

out how fast it's moving.

I can do that by sitting here for a sol. I can compare tomorrow's

wattage to today's. All I have to do is make sure to compare the same

times of day. Then I'd know how fast the storm is moving, at least in

terms of percent power loss.

But I need to know the shape of the storm, too.

Dust storms are big. They can be thousands of kilometers across. Sowhen I work my way around it, I'll need to know which way to go. I'll

want to move perpendicular to the storm's movement, and in whatever

direction has less storm.

So here's my plan:

Right now, I can go 86km (because I couldn't get a full battery

yesterday). I'm going to leave a solar cell here and drive 40km due south.

Then I'll drop off another solar cell and drive another 40km due south. I'll

have three points of reference across 80km.

The next day, I'll go back to collect the cells and get the data. By

comparing the wattage at the same time of day in those three locations,

I'll learn the shape of the storm. If the storm is thicker to the south, I'll

go north to get around it. If it's thicker north, I'll go south.

I'm hoping to go south. Schiaparelli is southeast of me. Going north

would add a lot of time to my total trip.

There's one slight problem with my plan: I don't have any way to

“record” the wattage from an abandoned solar cell. I can easily track and

log wattage with the rover computer, but I need something I can drop off

and leave behind. I can't just take readings as I drive along. I need

readings at the same time in different places.

So I'm going to spend today working on some mad science. I have to

make something that can log wattage. Something I can leave behind with

a single solar cell.

Since I'm stuck here for the day anyway, I'll leave the solar cells out. I

may as well get a full battery out of it.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 477

It took all day yesterday and today, but I think I'm ready to measure

this storm.

When I packed for this road trip, I made sure to bring all my kits and

tools. Just in case I had to repair the rover en-route.

I made the bedroom in to a lab. I stacked my supply containers to

form a rudimentary table, and used a sample box as a stool.I needed a way to track the time of day and the wattage of the solar

cell. The tricky part is logging it. And the solution is the extra EVA suit I

brought along.

The cool thing about EVA suits is they have cameras recording

everything they see. There's a camera on the right arm (or the left if the

astronaut is left handed), and one above the faceplate. A time-stamp is

burned in to the lower left corner of the image, just like the shaky home

videos Dad used to take.

My electronics kit has several power meters. So I figure: why make

my own logging system? I can just film the power meter all day long.

So that's what I set up.

First, I harvested the cameras from my spare EVA suit. I had to be

careful; I didn't want to ruin the suit. It's my only spare. I had to get the

cameras and the lines leading to their memory chips.

I put a power meter in to a small sample container, then glued a

camera to the underside of the lid. When I sealed up the container, the

camera was properly recording the readout of the power meter.

For testing, I used rover power. How will it get power once I abandon

it on the surface? Well, it turns out it's going to be attached to a 2 square

meter solar cell. That'll be plenty. And I put a small rechargeable battery

in the container to tide it over during nighttime (again, harvested from

the spare EVA suit).

The next problem is heat, or the lack thereof. As soon as I take this

thing out of the rover, it'll start cooling down mighty fast. Once it gets

too cold, the electronics will stop working entirely.

So I needed a heat source. And my electronics kit provided the

answer. Resistors. Lots and lots of them. The camera and power meter

only need a tiny fraction of what a solar cell can make. So I'm dumping

the rest of the energy through resistors.

Resistors heat up. It's what they do. There's my heat source.

I made and tested two “power loggers”, and confirmed the images

were being properly recorded.

Then I had an EVA. I detached two of my solar cells and hooked them

up to the power loggers. I let them log happily for an hour, then broughtthem back in to check the results. They worked great.

It's getting toward nightfall now. Tomorrow morning, I'll leave one

power logger behind, and head south.

While I was working, I left the Oxygenator going (why not?). So I'm

all stocked up on O2 and good to go.

The solar cell efficiency for today was 92.5%. Compared to

yesterday's 97%. So right now, the storm is moving at 4.5% per sol. If I

were to stay here another 16 sols, it would get dark enough to kill me.

Just as well I'm not going to stay here.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 478

Everything went as planned today. No hiccups. I can't tell if I'm

driving deeper in to the storm or out of it. It's hard to tell if the ambient

light is less or more than it was yesterday. The human brain works hard to

abstract that out.

I left a power-logger behind when I started out. Then, after 40km

travel due south, I had a quick EVA to set up another. Now I've gone the

full 80km, set up my solar cells for charging, and I'm logging the

wattage.

Tomorrow, I'll have to reverse course and pick up the power-loggers.

It may be dangerous; I'll be driving right back in to a known storm area.

But the risk is worth the gain.

Also, have I mentioned I'm sick of potatoes? Because, by God, I am

sick of potatoes. If I ever return to Earth, I'm going to buy a nice little

home in Western Australia. Because Western Australia is on the opposite

side of Earth from Idaho.

I bring it up because I dined on a meal pack today. I had saved 5

packs for special occasions. I ate the first of them 29 sols ago when I left

for Schiaparelli. I totally forgot to eat the second when I reached the half-

way point 9 sols ago. So I'm enjoying my belated half-way feast.

It's probably more accurate to eat it today anyway. Who knows how

long it'll take me to go around this storm. And if I end up stuck in thestorm and doomed to die, I'm totally eating the other earmarked meals.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 479

Have you ever taken the wrong freeway entrance? You need to drive

to the next exit to turn around, but you hate every inch of travel because

you're going away from your goal.

I felt like that all day. I'm now back where I started yesterday

morning. Yuk.

Along the way, I picked up the power-logger I'd left behind at the

half-way point. Just now I brought in the one I'd left here yesterday.

Both loggers worked they way I'd hoped. I downloaded each of their

video recordings to a laptop and advanced them to noon. Finally I had

solar efficiency readings from three locations along an 80km line, all

from the same time of day.

As of noon yesterday, the northern-most logger showed 12.3%

efficiency loss, the middle one was a 9.5% loss, and the rover recorded a

6.4% loss at its southernmost location. It paints a pretty clear picture: the

storm front runs northwest to southeast. And I already worked out it's

traveling west.

The best way to avoid it is to go south.

Finally, some good news! South is what I wanted. I won't lose much

time.

Sigh... I have to drive the same god damned path a third time

tomorrow.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 480

I think I'm getting ahead of the storm.

Having traveled along Mars Highway 1 all day, I'm back at my

campsite from yesterday. Tomorrow, I'll finally make real headway

again. I was done driving and had the camp set up by noon. Theefficiency loss here is 15.6%. Compared to the 17% loss at yesterday's

camp, this means I can outrun the storm as long as I keep heading south.

Hopefully.

The storm is probably circular. They usually are. But I could just be

driving in to an alcove. If that's the case, I'm just fucking dead, ok?

There's only so much I can do.

I'll know soon enough. If the storm is circular, I should get better and

better efficiency every day until I'm back to 100%. One I reach 100% that

means I'm completely south of the storm and I can start going east again.

We'll see.

If there were no storm, I'd be going directly southwest toward my

goal. As it is, going only south, I'm not nearly as fast. I'm traveling 90km

per day as usual, but I only get 37km closer to Schiaparelli because

Pythagoras is a dick. I don't know when I'll finally clear the storm and be

able to beeline to Schiaparelli again. But one thing's for sure: My plan to

arrive on Sol 495 is boned.

Sol 549. That's when they come for me. If I miss it, I'll spend the rest

of my very short life here. And I still have the MAV to modify before

then, too.

Sheesh.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 482

Air day. A time for relaxation and speculation.

For relaxation, I read 100 pages of Agatha Christie's Evil Under the

Sun courtesy of Johanssen's digital book collection. I think Linda

Marshall is the murderer.

As for speculation, I speculated on when the hell I'll get past this

fucking storm.

I'm still going due south every day; and still dealing with efficiency

loss (though I'm keeping ahead of it). Every day of this crap I'm only

getting 37km closer to the MAV instead of 90. Pissing me off.

I considered skipping the Air Day. I could go another couple of daysbefore I ran out of oxygen, and getting away from the storm is pretty

important. But I decided against it. I'm ahead of the storm enough that I

can afford one day of no movement. And I don't know if a couple more

days would help. Who knows how far the storm goes south?

Well, NASA probably knows. And the news stations back on Earth are

probably showing it. And there's probably a website like www.watch-

mark-watney-die.com. So there's like a hundred million people or so who

know exactly how far south it goes.

But I'm not one of them.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 484

Finally!

I am FINALLY past the god damned storm. Today's power regen was

100%. No more dust in the air. With the storm moving perpendicular to

my direction of travel, it means I'm south of the southernmost point of

the cloud (presuming it's a circular storm. If it's not then fuck.)

Starting tomorrow, I can go directly toward Schiaparelli. Which is

good, cause I lost a lot of time. I went 540km due south while avoiding

that storm. I'm catastrophically off course.

Mind you, it hasn't been that bad. I'm well in to Terra Meridiani now,

and the driving is a little easier here than the rugged ass-kicking terrain

of Arabia Terra. Schiaparelli is almost due east, and if my sextant and

Phobos calculations are correct, I've got another 1030km to get there.

Accounting for air days and presuming 90km of travel per sol, I

should arrive on Sol 505. Not too bad, really. The Nearly-Mark-Killin'

storm only ended up delaying me by 7 sols.

I'll still have 44 sols to do whatever MAV modifications NASA has in

mind.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 487I have an interesting opportunity here. And by “opportunity” I mean

Opportunity.

I got pushed so far off course, I'm actually not far from the Mars

Exploration Rover Opportunity. It's about 300km away. I could actually

get there and pull a Pathfinder on it. It would take about 4 sols.

Thing is, it's not worth it. I'm only 13 sols away from the MAV. Why

go out of my way to dig up another broken-ass rover to use as a makeshift

radio when I'll have a brand new, fully functional communication system

within a couple of weeks.

So, while it's kind of neat that I'm within striking range of another

rover (man we really littered this planet with them, didn't we?) it's not

relevant.

Besides, I've defiled enough future historical sites for now.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 492

I need to put some thought in to the bedroom.

Right now, I can only have it set up when I'm inside the rover. It

attaches to the airlock, so I can't get out if it's there. During my road trip

that didn't matter, because I had to furl it every day anyway. But once I

get to the MAV, I won't have to drive around anymore. Each

decompress/recompress of the bedroom stresses the seams (I learned that

lesson the hard way when the Hab blew up) so it's best if I can find a way

to leave it out.

Holy shit. I just realized I actually believe I'll get to the MAV. See

what I did there? I casually talked about what I'll do after I get to the

MAV. Like it was nothing. No big deal. I'm just going to pop over to

Schiaparelli and hang with the MAV there.

Nice.

Anyway, I don't have another airlock. I've got one on the rover and

one on the trailer and that's it. They're firmly fixed in place, so it's not

like I can detach one and attach it to the bedroom.

But I can seal the bedroom entirely. I don't even have to do anybullshit hatchet jobs on it. The airlock attachment point has a flap I can

unroll seal the opening with. Remember, I stole the airlock attachment

from a pop-tent. It's an emergency feature for pressure loss while in the

rover. It'd be pretty useless if it couldn't seal itself off.

Unfortunately, as an emergency device, it was never intended to be

reusable. The idea was people seal themselves in the pop tent, then the

rest of the crew drives to wherever they are in the other rover and rescues

them. The crew of the good rover detaches the pop tent from the breached

rover, and re-attaches it to theirs. Then they cut through the seal from

their side to recover their crewmates.

To make sure this would always be an option, mission rules dictated

no more than 3 people could be in a rover at once, and both rovers had to

be fully functional or we couldn't use either.

So here's my brilliant plan: I won't use the bedroom as a bedroom

anymore once I get to the MAV. I'll use it to house the Oxygenator and

Atmospheric Regulator. Then I'll use the trailer as my bedroom. Neat, eh?

The trailer has tons of space. I put a fuckton of work in to making that

happen. The balloon gives plenty of headroom. Not a lot of floor space,

but still lots of vertical area.

Also, the bedroom has several valve apertures in its canvas. I have the

pop-tents to thank for that again. I just needed swaths of canvas so I stole

it from wherever I could. I stole a lot from the pop tents, and they had

valve apertures (triple redundant ones, actually). NASA wanted to make

sure the emergency shelter allows the crew on the outside to get air in to

the crew on the inside.

In the end, I'll have the bedroom sealed with the Oxygenator and

Atmospheric Regulator inside. It'll be attached to the trailer via hoses to

share the same atmosphere and I'll run a power line through one of the

hoses. The rover will serve as storage (because I won't need to get to the

driving controls any more) and the trailer will be completely empty. Then

I'll have a permanent bedroom. I'll even be able to use it as a workshop

for whatever MAV modifications I need to do on parts that can fit

through the trailer's airlock.

Of course, if the Atmospheric Regulator or Oxygenator haveproblems, I'll need to cut in to the bedroom to get to them. But I've been

here 492 sols and they've worked fine the whole time, so I'll take that

risk.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 497

I'll be at the entrance to Schiaparelli crater tomorrow!

Presuming nothing goes wrong, that is. But hey, everything else has

gone smoothly this mission, right? (That was sarcasm.)

Today's an Air Day and for once, I don't want it. I'm so close to

Schiaparelli, I can taste it. I guess it would taste like sand, mostly, but

that's not the point.

Of course, that won't be the end of the trip. It'll take another 3 sols to

get from the entrance to the MAV, but hot damn! I'm almost there!

I think I can even see the rim of Schiaparelli. It's way the hell off in

the distance and it might just be my imagination. It's 62km away, so if

I'm seeing it, I'm only just barely seeing it.

Tomorrow, once I get to Entrance Crater, I'll turn south and enter the

Schiaparelli Basin via the “Entrance Ramp.” I did some back-of-the-

napkin math and the slope should be pretty safe. The elevation change

from the rim to the basin is 1.5km, and the Ramp is at least 45km long.

That makes for a 2-degree grade. No problem.

Tomorrow night, I'll sink to an all new low!

Lemme rephrase that...

Tomorrow night, I'll be at rock bottom!

No, that doesn't sound good either...

Tomorrow night, I'll be in Giovanni Schiaparelli's favorite hole!

Ok, I admit I'm just fucking around now.

For millions of years, the rim of the crater had been under constant

attack from wind. It eroded the rocky crest like a river cuts through a

mountain range. After aeons, it finally breached the edge.The high pressure zone created by the wind now had an avenue to

drain. The breach widened more and more with each passing millennium.

As it widened, dust and sand particles carried along with the attack

settled in the basin below.

Eventually, a balance point was reached. The sand had piled up high

enough to be flush with the land outside the crater. It no longer built

upward, but now outward. The slope lengthened until a new balance point

was reached, one defined by the complex interactions of countless tiny

particles and their ability to maintain an angled shape. Entrance Ramp

had been born.

The weather brought dunes and desert terrain. Nearby crater impacts

brought rocks and boulders. The shape became uneven.

Gravity did its work. The ramp compressed over time. But it did not

compress evenly. Differing densities shrunk at different rates. Some areas

became hard as rock while others remained as soft as talc.

While providing a small average slope into the crater, the ramp itself

was rugged and bitterly uneven.

Upon reaching Entrance Crater, the lone inhabitant of Mars turned his

vehicle toward the Schiaparelli Basin. The difficult terrain was

unexpected, but looked no worse than other terrain he routinely

navigated.

He went around the smaller dunes, and carefully crested the larger

ones. He took care with every turn, every rise or fall in elevation, and

every boulder in his path. He thought through every course and

considered all alternatives.

But it wasn't enough.

The rover, while descending down a seemingly ordinary slope, drove

off an invisible ridge. The dense, hard soil suddenly gave way to soft

powder. With the entire surface covered by at least 5cm of dust, there

were no visual hints to the sudden change.

The rover's left front wheel sank. The sudden tilt brought the right

rear wheel completely off the ground. This in turn put more weight on the

left rear wheel, which slipped from it's precarious purchase into the

powder as well.Before the traveler could react, the rover rolled on to its side. As it

did, the solar cells neatly stacked on the roof flew off and scattered like a

dropped deck of cards.

The trailer, attached to the rover with a tow clamp, was dragged

along. The torsion on the clamp snapped the strong composite like a

brittle twig. The hoses connecting the two vehicles also snapped. The

trailer plunged head-long in to the soft soil and flipped over on to its

balloon-roof, shuddering to an abrupt halt.

The rover was not so lucky. It continued tumbling down the hill,

bouncing the traveler around like clothes in a dryer. After 20 meters, the

soft powder gave way to more solid sand and it shuddered to a halt.

The rover had come to rest on its side. The valves leading to the now

missing hoses had detected the sudden pressure drop and closed. The

pressure seal was not breached.

The traveler was alive for now.