Red Horizon (The Martian Fanfiction)

Chapter 44

SOL 540

Mark stared up at the MAV, its sleek nose and towering height daunting as ever. It stood alone, a gleaming symbol of hope in the desolate Martian landscape, waiting for its moment of purpose. For years, it had sat untouched, prepared for a mission that had never come, and now it was theirs. It was their last chance, their final lifeline off the red planet. The craft loomed large, both literally and figuratively, its sleek lines and metallic skin reflecting the cold, unforgiving reality of what lay ahead.

Everything rode on this—on stripping it down to the barest essentials and turning it from a carefully engineered marvel of space travel into a desperate escape pod.

Mark took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over the MAV before he walked toward it, each step crunching through the Martian dust. He reached the base and ran a hand over the surface, the metal cold and solid beneath his fingertips. His mind raced with everything NASA had told them—500 kilograms. Every gram mattered, every ounce of unnecessary weight had to go. It was a surgical task with no margin for error.

Steeling himself, Mark stepped up to the control panel at the base of the craft and activated the ladder release. A sharp whirr cut through the stillness, and the ladder descended in slow, mechanical movements, clicking into place as it extended down to meet the Martian surface. It was like watching a bridge being lowered between them and their only hope of survival.

Mark turned to glance back at Olivia, who sat in the Rover, her face pale but her expression set with quiet determination. She had insisted on staying in the Rover while he did the modifications, her injured leg making it too difficult to climb up and down the MAV repeatedly. But even from the relative comfort of the Rover, Mark could see the toll it was taking on her. Her leg, which had never fully healed, throbbed constantly, and every movement seemed to cause her pain. Yet she remained strong, her eyes watching him with unwavering trust.

Mark gave her a small, reassuring nod before turning back to the task ahead. He needed to focus. They couldn't afford any mistakes.

Climbing the ladder, Mark reached the top and pulled himself into the cockpit of the MAV. Dust had gathered on every surface, and the air was stale from years of inactivity, but everything still seemed intact. He scanned the cramped space, picturing the MAV as it had once been—a well-oiled machine designed for precision and safety. Now, all of that would be stripped away.

Mark wasted no time. He began with the nose, methodically unbolting panels and removing anything that wasn't absolutely critical. Each panel came loose with a bit of effort, the bolts clattering down onto the floor with a metallic echo that filled the empty space around him. The work was tedious, and sweat quickly gathered beneath his suit, but he kept at it, his mind laser-focused on the task.

Outside, the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the red Martian landscape. Mark moved with purpose, his movements efficient and practiced as he disassembled the interior of the MAV, reducing it to its most basic components. Every panel, every piece of equipment that wasn't directly necessary for their launch was removed and discarded. The cockpit, once a hub of sophisticated control systems, was now an exposed network of wires and circuits.

Mark worked in silence, the only sounds being the steady rhythm of his own breathing and the occasional clink of metal as he removed another section of the MAV. His mind wandered for a moment, thinking of all the careful design that had gone into this craft, all the hours spent engineering it for safety and success. And now here he was, undoing it all. But that's what survival required—sacrifice. Efficiency. Every gram of weight they could shave off brought them one step closer to leaving Mars.

After what felt like hours, Mark had cleared out the panels, stripping the nose of the MAV bare. He moved on to the seats next. The once-sturdy chairs had been designed to cradle astronauts during launch, but now, only two would remain. The rest had to go. He carefully unbolted the seats, his hands moving steadily despite the growing exhaustion that tugged at him. His muscles ached, his body worn thin from months of malnutrition and endless physical labor, but he couldn't stop.