Red Horizon (The Martian Fanfiction)

Chapter 25

Mark stood outside the Hab, the Martian wind a faint whisper in the background as he meticulously placed the last of the cards in a circle around the camera. Each card was marked with a letter or a number—"A-F" and "0-9"—the carefully crafted hexadecimal alphabet they would use to communicate with NASA. It wasn't the most sophisticated method, but out here on Mars, it was their only option. His breath fogged inside his helmet as he stepped back, surveying the setup, the weight of their situation pressing down on his shoulders.

Olivia watched him through the window, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew exactly how crucial this was, and even though she couldn't help directly, her mind was working through every possible outcome. Johanssen had taught her hexadecimal coding during their long downtime before the storm hit. It was something Olivia had always found fascinating—this precise, elegant way of turning letters and numbers into something that made communication possible. Back then, it had been a curiosity, something to pass the time, but now... now it was the difference between life and death.

Mark's movements were slow and deliberate as he double-checked the angles of the cards. The hexadecimal system allowed for far more precise readings than the standard alphabet ever could. Twenty-six letters divided into 360 degrees simply wouldn't cut it—there would be too much guesswork. But with hexadecimals, everything was clean and efficient. It was a system that left little room for error, something they desperately needed in a situation where every mistake could cost them their lives.

Olivia smiled to herself, remembering how Johanssen had patiently walked her through the concept. They had bonded over those lessons, sharing stories and quiet moments as they worked through each detail. Beth had a way of making everything seem easier, and now, in the midst of their struggle for survival, Olivia couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for those simpler times. Johanssen wasn't here now, but her influence lingered, and Olivia was grateful for every piece of knowledge she had passed on.

"Hexadecimals to the rescue," Mark had joked earlier, his voice tinged with the familiar sarcasm that kept them both sane.

She leaned against the worktable, her leg propped up on a chair, watching as he worked. Mark was a problem solver—he always had been. Every move he made was precise, his mind working a mile a minute as he put their plan into action. It was one of the things she admired most about him. No matter how dire the circumstances, he found a way to keep going, to keep thinking.

Outside, Mark stared down at the cards again, and Olivia could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he went over the plan one last time. He took a deep breath, his voice crackling through the comms. "Somehow, we need to have complex astrophysical engineering conversations using only a still-frame camera. From 1996." He scoffed, glancing up at the weathered, decades-old camera that was now their lifeline. "Luckily, it spins 360, so I can make an alphabet. Just... not ours."

Olivia smirked as she listened. "ASCII tables," she whispered to herself, her eyes flicking over to the setup Mark had created. It made perfect sense to her now, thanks to Johanssen's tutoring. The tables converted letters and symbols into binary, which could then be converted into hexadecimals. It was a perfect workaround for their situation—a way to translate the impossible into something manageable.

Mark glanced back at her, his voice cutting in again. "ASCII table. That's our answer."

Inside the Hab, Olivia sat up straighter, her mind racing. She watched as Mark moved to Johanssen's bunk, pulling her laptop onto his lap and scrolling through the files. He was thorough, never leaving anything to chance. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he announced, his voice taking on a grand, mock-serious tone, "I give you supernerd Beth Johanssen, who also had copies of Zork 2 and Leather Goddesses of Phobos on her laptop. Seriously, Johanssen... it's like the Smithsonian of loneliness on here."