Free The Martian by Andy Weir

Venkat asked.
    “Four,” Chuck said.
    “Three,” Morris said.
    “No, it’s four,” Chuck corrected.
    “He said
backup
systems,” Morris insisted. “That means not including the primary system.”
    “Oh right. Three.”
    “So four systems total, then,” Venkat said. “Explain how we lost all four.”
    “Well,” Chuck said, “The primary ran through the big satellite dish. It blew away in the storm. The rest of the backups were in the MAV.”
    “Yup,” Morris agreed. “The MAV is, like, a communicating
machine
. It can talk to Earth,
Hermes
, even satellites around Mars if it has to. And it has three independent systems to make sure nothing short of a meteor strike can stop communication.”
    “Problem is,” Chuck said, “Commander Lewis and the rest of them took the MAV when they left.”
    “So four independent communications systems became one. And that one broke,” Morris finished.
    Venkat pinched the bridge of his nose. “How could we overlook this?”
    Chuck shrugged. “Never occurred to us. We never thought someone would be on Mars
without
an MAV.”
    “I mean, come on!” Morris said. “What are the odds?”
    Chuck turned to him. “One in three, based on empirical data. That’s pretty bad if you think about it.”
    •••
    THIS WAS going to be rough and Annie knew it. Not only did she have to deliver the biggest mea culpa in NASA’s history, every second of it would be remembered forever. Every movement of her arms, intonation of her voice, and expression on her face would be seen by millions of people over and over again. Not just in the immediate press cycle, but for decades to come. Every documentary made about Watney’s situation would have this clip.
    She was confident that none of that concern showed on her face as she took to the podium.
    “Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” she said to the assembled reporters. “We have an important announcement to make. If you could all take your seats.”
    “What this about, Annie?” Bryan Hess from NBC asked. “Something happen with
Hermes
?”
    “Please take your seats,” Annie repeated.
    The reporters milled about and argued over seats for a brief time, then finally settled down.
    “This is a short but very important announcement,” Annie said. “I won’t be taking any questions at this time, but we will have a full press conference with Q&A in about an hour. We have recently reviewed satellite imagery from Mars and have confirmed that astronaut Mark Watney is, currently, still alive.”
    After one full second of utter silence, the room exploded with noise.
    •••
    A WEEK after the stunning announcement, it was still the top story on every news network in the world.
    “I’m getting sick of daily press conferences,” Venkat whispered to Annie.
    “I’m getting sick of hourly press conferences,” Annie whispered back.
    The two stood with countless other NASA managers and executives bunched up on the small stage in the press room. They faced a pit of hungry reporters, all desperate for any scrap of new information.
    “Sorry I’m late,” Teddy said, entering from the side door. He pulled some flash cards from his pocket, squared them in his hands, then cleared his throat.
    “In the nine days since announcing Mark Watney’s survival, we’ve received a massive show of support from all sectors. We’re using this shamelessly every way we can.”
    A small chuckle cascaded through the room.
    “Yesterday, at our request, the entire SETI network focused on Mars. Just in case Watney was sending a weak radio signal. Turns out he wasn’t, but it shows the level of commitment everyone has toward helping us.
    “The public is engaged, and we will do our best to keep everyone informed. I’ve recently learned CNN will be dedicating a half-hour segment every weekday to reporting on just this issue. We will assign several members of our media relations team to that program, so the public can get the latest