Red Horizon (The Martian Fanfiction)

Chapter 38

Sol 219

The faint hum of the Hab's systems had become a comforting background noise to the endless silence of Mars. It was something consistent, something reliable in a world where almost everything else was failing. But now, they were facing a new challenge—one that, despite its difficulties, carried the promise of a way home.

Mark sat at the console, his fingers tapping lightly as he read through the latest transmission from NASA. The plan was clear: they had to get to the Ares 4 MAV at the Schiaparelli Crater, and that meant outfitting the Rover to be more than just a transport. It had to become their mobile home for months—a cramped, cold, and utterly inhospitable home, but a home nonetheless.

Olivia, still propped up on the makeshift bed, her leg stretched out in front of her, listened as Mark read the message aloud.

"NASA's been running the numbers," Mark said, his voice tinged with both excitement and apprehension. "They've calculated that it'll take us at least 50 sols to reach Schiaparelli. Probably more, considering the terrain and the fact that we'll be moving slowly to conserve energy."

He paused, glancing at her. Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Fifty sols? In the Rover?"

Mark nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. Fifty sols in a space barely bigger than a closet. But that's the least of our worries. We've got to take all of the critical life-support systems with us—the oxygenator, the water reclaimer, the atmospheric regulator... basically, everything that's keeping us alive."

Olivia frowned, her eyes scanning the sparse room. The Hab, while cramped, had at least given them the luxury of standing space. The thought of being confined in the Rover for that long, with all of their life-support systems crammed inside, made her stomach twist.

"So how exactly are we supposed to fit all that in the Rover?" Olivia asked, her voice betraying her skepticism.

Mark tapped a few keys on the console, bringing up the schematics NASA had sent over. "Well, that's where it gets tricky. NASA's working on a plan for how we can strip down some of the systems to make them portable. But even with all the brilliant minds on Earth, the best they've come up with so far is... and I quote, 'Why don't you drill holes on the roof of your Rover and hit it as hard as you can with a rock?'"

Olivia let out a tired laugh, shaking her head. "Sounds like a solid plan."

Mark smirked, though there was a tension behind it. "Yeah, well, it's a start. They'll figure out the details, but the truth is, we're going to have to make this work with what we've got. It's going to be... uncomfortable."

"That's an understatement." Olivia shifted slightly, wincing as her leg throbbed. "We're going to be living on top of each other in that thing. If we don't kill each other by the time we get to Schiaparelli, it'll be a miracle."

Mark's expression softened, a quiet understanding passing between them. They had been through so much already—fighting against the odds, against their own breaking points—and now they were being asked to do it again, in even closer quarters. It would take everything they had.

"We've got 200 sols to get everything ready," Mark said, his voice quieter now. "The Rover's going to need modifications. We'll have to make sure the life-support systems are functioning outside the Hab, that we can carry enough food and water for the trip. And most importantly, we'll have to figure out how to keep you comfortable."

Olivia let out a long breath, her gaze drifting down to her leg. It was better than it had been weeks ago, but the damage was permanent. She'd never walk properly again, and long trips in the Rover would be torture on her body. She was already thin, her energy reserves depleted, and the idea of spending months in the cramped space of the Rover, without the ability to stretch her leg or find any relief, filled her with a quiet dread.