Interstellar → Chris Beck

S O L 1 8

IT WAS THE beautifully faded red of the Martian landscape that allowed Maia to waken merely an hour before she was scheduled to, just as she had been doing so for the past eighteen sols. There was just something so enticing about watching the sun rise over the horizon of the barren planet. She adored the way the light bounced off of the distant ridges, sending a light shade of orange barreling across the vastness of Acidalia Planitia; she adored the way the light rolled over the smooth plains so elegantly, allowing the normally-rusted color of the oxidized dust to transition to a much softer and calming color.

This was a luxury Maia would miss having on Earth. On Earth, it was nearly impossible to wake up in the morning and witness something so spectacular without an enormous eyesore of a skyscraper obstructing the view, or some sort of factory allowing its horrid pollutants to completely eliminate the view altogether. That's what Maia loved and cherished so much about Mars and being on Mars. She loved the pureness of the planet—she loved the serenity. She loved the beauty and the calmness of it. She only wished she was able to experience it without the confines of her spacesuit.

Commander Lewis's voice reverberated loudly throughout the Hab, effectively removing Maia from her early morning trance. Numerous groans from her fellow crew-mates could be heard from their bunks, and Maia chuckled softly to herself before hopping down from her bunk and onto the Hab floor below.

On Earth, Maia would have made several complaints about waking up so early, but it was quite a different story while she was on Mars. It was very seldom that she was able to perform an EVA on the surface of the planet, as she spent most of her time inside the Hab in front of the computer screen, monitoring reports and tending to system updates. She wasn't able to experience Mars the way her brother or the rest of her crew-mates—aside from Beck and Johanssen—were, so her time in the morning spent gazing at the red surface was a particularly crucial aspect of her everyday routine.

Even if Maia had wanted to sleep in, she wouldn't. It was quite difficult to do so when the crew's mission commander was a well-trained naval officer who seemed to have no issue at all removing someone from their slumber simply by tipping them from the safety and comfort of their bunk. Maia had witnessed her do it once before on Mark, and it was not something she intended on bestowing upon herself.

A smile of amusement lit up Maia's face as she watched her good friend and fellow crew-mate, Chris Beck, roll out of his bunk and onto the floor at her feet. She looked down at him as he looked up at her, his tired blue eyes glistening.

"I still don't know how you do it," Chris muttered.

Maia held her hand out to him, which he didn't hesitate in grabbing. "You're a doctor, Chris. You should be used to waking up early," Maia chuckled lightly as she pulled him from the floor.

"I should be, but I'm not," he replied, bending down to pick his blanket up off of the floor.

Maia simply shook her head in amusement and proceeded toward the kitchen, leaving Beck alone to get ready for the day ahead. An overly-excited Martinez was the first to greet her the moment she made an appearance. He was military just as Commander Lewis was, which meant that he was more than used to the early morning wake up calls, unlike the rest of Maia's crew-mates.

"Morning," Martinez spoke to her.

Maia sent a smile in his direction and moved towards the ration cupboards, pulling her light brown, shoulder-length hair up in the process. "Good morning, Martinez. I trust you slept well?"

"As always, Little Watney," he responded with a smile, taking a sip of whatever liquid Maia could hear sloshing around inside his cup.

Referring to Maia as 'Little Watney' had become a thing among Vogel and Martinez to lessen the confusion regarding the situation between her and her brother, Mark Watney. Her other crew-mates, however, seemed to have their own nicknames for her.