The Martian

Got my first email from Hermes today. NASA’s been limiting direct contact. I guess they’re afraid I’ll say something like “You abandoned me on Mars you fuckwits!” I know the crew is surprised to hear from the Ghost of Mars Missions Past, but c’mon. I wish NASA was less of a nanny sometimes. Anyway, they finally let one email through from Martinez:

Dear Watney: Sorry we left you behind, but we don’t like you. You’re sort of a smart-ass. And it’s a lot roomier on Hermes without you. We have to take turns doing your tasks, but it’s only botany (not real science) so it’s easy. How’s Mars?

-Martinez

My reply:

Dear Martinez: Mars is fine. When I get lonely I think of that steamy night I spent with your mom. How are things on Hermes? Cramped and claustrophobic? Yesterday I went outside and looked at the vast horizons. I tell ya, Martinez, they go on forever!

-Watney

The employees carefully folded the sheet, and placed it in an argon-filled airtight shipping container. Printing out a sticker, the man with the clipboard placed it on the package. “Project Ares-3; Hab Canvas; Sheet AL102.”

The package was placed on a charter plane and flown to Edwards Air Force Base in California. It flew abnormally high, at great cost of fuel, to ensure a smoother flight.

Upon arrival, the package was carefully transported by special convoy to Pasadena. Once there, it was moved to the JPL White Room for probe assembly. Over the next 5 weeks, engineers in white bodysuits assembled Presupply 309. It contained AL102 as well as 12 other Hab Canvas packages.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 116

It’s almost time for the second harvest.

Ayup.

I wish I had a straw hat and some suspenders.

My re-seed of the potatoes went well. I’m beginning to see that crops on Mars are extremely prolific, thanks to the billions of dollars worth of life support equipment around me. I now have 400 healthy potato plants, each one making lots of calorie-filled taters for my dining enjoyment. In just ten days they’ll be ripe!

And this time, I’m not replanting them as seed. This is my food supply. All natural, organic, Martian-grown potatoes. Don’t hear that every day, do you?

You may be wondering how I’ll store them. I can’t just pile them up; most of them would go bad before I got around to eating them. So instead, I’ll do something that wouldn’t work at all on Earth: Throw them outside.

Most of the water will be sucked out by the near-vacuum; what’s left will freeze solid. Any bacteria planning to rot my taters will die screaming.

In other news, I got email from Venkat Kapoor: