“Will do,” Martinez said.
“We only got a week of remote launch training,” Johanssen said. “It was only supposed to happen if we scrubbed before landing. We’d launch the MAV to have it act as a satellite. It was a cut-your-losses scenario.”
“It’s mission-critical now,” Lewis said. “So get it right.”
“Aye, Commander.” Martinez said.
“Resetting the Sim,” Johanssen said. “Anything specific you want to try?”
“Surprise me,” Martinez said.
Leaving the control room, Lewis made her way to the reactor. Climbing “up” the ladder toward the center of the ship, the centripetal force on her diminished to nearly zero as she reached the core. Vogel looked up from a computer console. “Commander?”
“How are the engines?” She asked, grabbing a wall-mounted handle to stay attached to the slowly turning room.
“All working within tolerance,” Vogel said. “I am now doing a diagnostic on the reactor. I am thinking that Johanssen is busy with the launching training. So perhaps I do this diagnostic for her.”
“Good idea,” Lewis said. “And how’s our course?”
“All is well,” Vogel said. “No adjustments necessary. We are still on track to planned trajectory within 4 meters.”
“Keep me posted if anything changes.”
“Ja, Commander.”
Floating to the other side of the core, Lewis took the other ladder out, again gaining gravity as she went “down”. She made her way to the Airlock 2 ready room.
Beck held a coil of metal wire in one hand and a pair of work gloves in the other. “Heya, Commander. What’s up?”
“I’d like to know your plan for recovering Mark.”
“Easy enough if the intercept is good,” Beck said. “I just finished attaching all the tethers we have into one long line. It’s 214 meters long. I’ll have the MMU pack on, so moving around will be easy. I can get going up to around 10 meters per second safely. Any more and I risk breaking the tether if I can’t stop in time.”
“How fast a relative velocity can you handle, you think?”
“You mean once I get to Mark? I can grab the MAV easily at 5 meters per second. 10 meters per second is kind of like jumping on to a moving train. Anything more than that and I might miss.”
“So, including the MMU safe speed, we need to get within 20 meters per second of his velocity.”
“And the intercept has to be within 214 meters,” Beck said. “Pretty narrow margin of error.”
“We’ve got a lot of leeway,” Lewis said. “The launch will be 52 minutes before the intercept and it takes 12 minutes. As soon as Mark’s S2 engine cuts out we’ll know our intercept point and velocity. If we don’t like it, we’ll have 40 minutes to correct. Our engine’s 2 millimeters per second may not seem like much, but in 40 minutes it can move us up to 5.7 kilometers.”
“Good,” Beck said. “And 214 meters isn’t a hard limit, per se.”
“Yes it is,” Lewis corrected.
“Nah,” Beck said. “I know I’m not supposed to go untethered, but without my leash I could get way out there—”
“Not an option.” Lewis said.
“But we could double or even triple our safe intercept range—”
“We’re done talking about this.” Lewis said sternly.
“Aye, Commander.”
There aren’t many people who can say they’ve vandalized a three billion dollar spacecraft. But I’m one of them.
I’ve been pulling critical hardware out of the MAV left and right. It’s nice to know that my launch to orbit won’t have any pesky back-up systems weighing me down.
First thing I did was remove the small stuff. Then came the things I could disassemble. Like the crew seats, several of the back-up systems, and the control panels.
I’m not improvising anything. I’m following a script sent by NASA, which was set up to make things as easy as possible. Sometimes I miss the days when I made all the decisions myself. Then I shake it off and remember I’m infinitely better with a bunch of geniuses deciding what I do than making shit up as I go along.
Periodically, I suit up, crawl into the airlock with as much junk as I can fit, and dump it outside. The area around the MAV looks like the set of Sanford and Son.
I learned about Sanford and Son from Lewis’s collection. Seriously, that woman needs to see someone about her 70’s problem.
I’m turning my pee in to rocket fuel. It’s easier than you’d think.
Urine is mostly water. Separating hydrogen and oxygen only requires a couple of electrodes and some current. The problem is collecting the hydrogen. I don’t have any equipment for pulling hydrogen out of the air. The Atmospheric Regulator doesn’t even know how. The last time I had to get hydrogen out of the air (back when I turned the Hab in to a bomb) I burned it to turn it in to water. Obviously that would be counter-productive.
But NASA thought everything through and gave me a process. First, I disconnected the rover and trailer from each other. Then, while wearing my EVA suit, I depressurized the trailer and back-filled it with pure oxygen at one fourth of an atmosphere. Then I opened a plastic box full of urine and put a couple of electrodes in. That’s why I needed the atmosphere. Without it, the urine would just boil immediately and I’d be hanging around in an piss-based atmosphere.
The electrolysis separated the hydrogen and oxygen from each other. Over time, it reduced the urine to a really gross sludge as it pulled the water out. Now the trailer was full of even more oxygen and also hydrogen. Pretty dangerous, actually.
Then I fired up the Atmospheric Regulator. It doesn’t even recognize hydrogen, but it knows how to yank oxygen out of the air. I broke all the safeties and set it to pull 100% of the oxygen out. After it was done, all that was left was hydrogen. That’s why I started out with an atmosphere of pure oxygen. So the regulator could separate it later.
Then I opened the inner airlock door and had it evacuate the trailer. It pumped all the air in to the airlock’s holding tank. And there you have it, a tank of pure hydrogen.
The final step was to take the airlock’s holding tank to the MAV and transfer the contents to the MAV’s hydrogen tanks. I’ve said this many times before but: Hurray for standardized valve systems!
Once I fed it the hydrogen, I fired up the fuel plant and it got to work making the additional fuel I’d need.
I’ll need to go through this process several more times as the launch date approaches. I could have done this all at once, but NASA doesn’t want me to run low on water until we’re close to launch. They’d rather I electrolyze urine over time because I’ve already “used” that water.
If I survive this, I’ll tell people I pissed my way in to orbit.
[19:22] JOHANSSEN: Hello, Mark.
[19:23] MAV: Johanssen!? Holy crap! They finally letting you talk to me directly?
[19:24] JOHANSSEN: Yes, NASA gave the OK for direct communication an hour ago. We’re only 35 light-seconds apart, so we can talk in near-realtime. I just set up the system and I’m testing it out.
[19:24] MAV: What took them so long to let us talk?
[19:25] JOHANSSEN: The psych team was worried about personality conflicts.
[19:25] MAV: What? Just cause you guys abandoned me on a godforsaken planet with no chance of survival?
[19:26] JOHANSSEN: Funny. Don’t make that kind of joke with Lewis.
[19:27] MAV: Roger. So uh… thanks for coming back to get me.
[19:27] JOHANSSEN: It’s the least we could do. How is the MAV retrofit going?
[19:28] MAV: So far, so good. NASA put a lot of thought into the procedures. They work. That’s not to say they’re easy. I spent the last 3 days removing Hull Panel 19 and the front window. Even in Mars-G they’re heavy motherfuckers.