She knew right then no one’s mind would change. They were going back to Mars.
An Essay from Andy Weir: How Science Made Me a Writer I’m a nerd. Okay, a lot of people say that these days. But I really am. I was hired as a computer programmer for a national laboratory at age fifteen.
Naturally,” Teddy said. “Astronauts are inherently insane. And really noble. What’s the idea?
In the game I played a cleric. One of the magic spells I could cast was “Create Water.” I always thought it was a really stupid spell, and I never used it. Boy, what I wouldn’t give to be able to do that in real life right now.
How do I explain “impatience” to someone who lives seven hundred years?
So far, the rover and my ghetto life support are working admirably. At.
I can create the O2 easily enough. It takes twenty hours for the MAV fuel plant to fill its 10-liter tank with CO2. The oxygenator can turn it into O2, then the atmospheric regulator will see the O2 content in the Hab is high, and pull it out of the air, storing it in the main O2 tanks. They’ll fill up, so I’ll have to transfer O2 over to the rovers’ tanks and even the space suit tanks as necessary.
Point is, the process worked!
You could be less of an ass.” “I could,” I said. “But it’s not likely.
Well my math was a damn liar!
Really bad ideas, but they’re ideas. Today.
This is the happiest day of my life.
Very good. Most would not know that.” “I teach junior high school science,” I said. “These things come up.
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So what do we do, then? He’s not going to decompose. He’ll be there forever.” “Not forever,” Teddy said. “Within a year, he’ll be covered in sand from normal weather activity.
It’s only one-sixth Earth’s gravity. Walking doesn’t take much energy.
It’s Hydrogenville in the Hab.
Come on! I thought you liked Mexican!
Humanity isn’t alone in the universe. And I’ve just met our neighbors.
The airlock door doesn’t reach the ceiling, so I’ll have to play “The Floor Is Lava” to get in.