“Not sure yet,” Johanssen said. “I have External Camera four pointed along the nose. I don’t see any problems with the hull near the VAL.”
“Worry about that later,” Lewis said. “What’s our relative velocity and distance to MAV?”
Johanssen typed quickly. “We’ll get within 22 meters and we’re at 12 meters per second. We actually got better than expected thrust.”
“Watney,” Lewis said. “It worked. Beck’s on his way.”
“Score!” Watney responded.
“Beck,” Lewis said. “You’re up. 12 meters per second.”
“Close enough!” Beck replied.
“I’m going to jump out,” Beck said. “Should get me another two or three meters per second.”
“Understood,” Vogel said, loosely gripping Beck’s tether. “Good luck, Dr. Beck.”
Placing his feet on the back wall, Beck coiled and leaped out of the airlock.
Once free, he got his bearings. A quick look to his right showed him what he could not see from inside the airlock.
“I have visual!” he said. “I can see MAV! Jesus, Mark, what did you do to that thing?”
“You should see what I did to the rover,” Watney radioed back.
Beck thrusted on an intercept course. He had practiced this many times. The presumption in those practice sessions was that he’d be rescuing a crewmate whose tether had broken, but the principle was the same.
“Johanssen,” he said, “You got me on radar?”
“Affirmative,” she replied.
“Call out my relative velocity to Mark every 2 seconds or so.”
“Copy. 5.2 meters per second.”
“Hey Beck,” Watney said. “The front’s wide open. I’ll get up there and be ready to grab at you.”
“Negative,” interrupted Lewis. “No untethered movement. Stay strapped to your chair until you’re latched to Beck.”
“Copy,” Watney said.
“3.1 meters per second,” Johanssen reported.
“Going to coast for a bit,” Beck said. “Gotta catch up before I slow it down.” He rotated himself in preparation for the next burn.
“11 meters to target,” Johanssen said.
“Copy.”
“6 meters,” Johanssen said.
“Aaaaand, counter-thrusting.” Beck said, firing the MMU thrusters again. The MAV loomed before him. “Velocity?” He asked.
“1.1 meters per second,” Johanssen said.
“Good enough,” he said, reaching for the ship. “I’m drifting toward it. I think I can get my hand on some of the torn canvas…”
The tattered canvas beckoned as the only handhold on the otherwise smooth ship. Beck reached, extending as best he could, and managed to grab hold.
“Contact,” Beck said. Firming his grip, he pulled his body forward and lashed out with his other hand to grab more canvas. “Firm contact!”
“Dr. Beck,” Vogel said. “We have past closest approach point and you are now getting further away. You have 169 meters of tether left. Enough for 14 seconds.”
“Copy,” Beck said.
Pulling his head to the opening, he looked inside the compartment to see Watney strapped to his chair.
“Visual on Watney!” He reported.
“Visual on Beck!” Watney reported.
“How ya doin’, man?” Beck said, pulling himself in to the ship.
“I… I just…” Watney said. “Give me a minute. You’re the first person I’ve seen in 18 months.”
“We don’t have a minute,” Beck said, kicking off the wall. “We’ve got 11 seconds before we run out of tether.”
Beck’s course took him to the chair where he clumsily collided with Watney. The two gripped each others’ arms to keep Beck from bouncing away. “Contact with Watney!” Beck said.
“8 seconds, Dr. Beck,” Vogel radioed.
“Copy,” Beck said as he hastily latched the front of his suit to the front of Watney’s with tether clips. “Connected,” he said.
Watney released the straps on his chair. “Restraints off.”
“We’re outa’ here,” Beck said, kicking off the chair toward the opening.
The two men floated across the MAV cabin to the opening. Beck reached out his arm and pushed off the edge as they passed through.
“We’re out,” Beck reported.
“5 seconds,” Vogel said.
“Relative velocity to Hermes: 12 meters per second,” Johanssen said.
“Thrusting,” Beck said, activating his MMU.
The two accelerated toward Hermes for a few seconds. Then the MMU controls on Beck’s heads-up display turned red.
“That’s it for the fuel,” Beck said. “Velocity?”
“5 meters per second,” Johanssen replied.
“Standby,” Vogel said. Throughout the process, he had been feeding tether out of the airlock. Now he gripped the ever-shrinking remainder of the rope with both hands. He didn’t clamp down on it; that would pull him out of the airlock. He simply closed his hands over the tether to create friction.
Hermes pulled Beck and Watney along, with Vogel’s use of the tether acting as a shock absorber. If Vogel used too much force the shock of it would pull the tether free from Beck’s suit clips. If he used too little the tether would run out before they matched speeds, then it would have a hard stop at the end, which would also rip it out of Beck’s suit clips.
Vogel managed to find the balance. After a few seconds of tense, gut-feel physics, Vogel felt the force on the tether abate.
“Velocity 0!” Johanssen reported excitedly.
“Reel ’em in, Vogel,” Lewis said.
“Copy,” Vogel said. Hand over hand, he slowly pulled his crewmates toward the airlock. After a few seconds, he stopped actively pulling and simply took in the line as they coasted toward him.
They floated in to the airlock, and Vogel grabbed them. Beck and Watney both reached for handholds on the wall as Vogel worked his way around them and closed the outer door.
“Aboard!” Beck said.
“Airlock 2 outer door closed,” Vogel said.
“Yes!” Martinez yelled.
“Copy,” Lewis said.
Lewis’s voice echoed across the world: “Houston, this is Hermes Actual. Six crew safely aboard.”
The control room exploded with applause. Leaping from their seats, they cheered, hugged, and cried. The same scene played out all over the world in parks, bars, civic centers, living rooms, classrooms, and offices.
Mitch haggardly pulled off his headset and turned to face the VIP room. Through the glass, he saw various well-suited men and women cheering wildly. He looked at Venkat and let out a heavy sigh of relief.
Venkat put his head in his hands and whispered “Thank the gods.”
Teddy pulled a blue folder from his briefcase and stood. “Annie will be wanting me in the press room.”
“Guess you don’t need the red folder today,” Venkat said.
“Honestly, I didn’t make one.” As he walked out he added “Good work, Venk. Now get them home.”
That “687” caught me off guard for a minute. On Hermes, we track time by mission days. It may be Sol 549 down on Mars, but it’s Mission Day 687 up here. And you know what? It doesn’t matter what time it is on Mars cause I’M NOT FUCKING THERE!
Oh my god. I’m really not on Mars anymore. I can tell because there’s no gravity and there are other humans around. I’m still adjusting.
If this were a movie, everyone would have been in the airlock and there would have been high-fives all around. But it didn’t pan out that way.
I broke two ribs during the MAV ascent. They were sore the whole time, but they really started screaming when Vogel pulled us in to the airlock by the tether. I didn’t want to distract the people who were saving my life so I muted off my mic and screamed like a little girl.