exploding for no reason. Plus, I can’t be sure there isn’t a leak.
This time, I brought a proper meal, and something to listen to that isn’t disco.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 41
I spent the day running full diagnostics on every system in the Hab. It was incredibly boring, but my survival depends on these machines, so it had to be done. I can’t just assume an explosion did no long-term damage.
I did the most critical tests first. Number one was the integrity of the Hab canvas. I felt pretty confident it was in good shape, because I’d spent a few hours asleep in the rover before returning to the Hab, and the pressure was still good. The computer reported no change in pressure over that time, other than a minor fluctuation based on temperature.
Then I checked the oxygenator. If that stops working and I can’t fix it, I’m a dead man. No problems.
Then the atmospheric regulator. Again, no problem.
Heating unit, primary battery array, O 2 and N 2 storage tanks, water reclaimer, all three airlocks, lighting systems, main computer…on and on I went, feeling better and better as each system proved to be in perfect working order.
Got to hand it to NASA. They don’t screw around when making this stuff.
Then came the critical part…checking the dirt. I took a few samples from all over the Hab (remember, it’s all dirt flooring now) and made slides.
With shaking hands, I put a slide into the microscope and brought the image up on-screen. There they were! Healthy, active bacteria doing their thing! Looks like I won’t be starving to death on Sol 400 after all. I plopped down in a chair and let my breathing return to normal.
Then I set about cleaning up the mess. And I had a lot of time to think about what had happened.
So what happened? Well, I have a theory.
According to the main computer, during the blast, the internal pressure spiked to 1.4 atmospheres, and the temperature rose to 15°C in under a second. But the pressure quickly subsided back to 1 atm. This would make sense if the atmospheric regulator were on, but I’d cut power to it.
The temperature remained at 15°C for some time afterward, so any heat expansion should still have been present. But the pressure dropped down again, so where did that extra pressure go? Raising the temperature and keeping the same number of atoms inside should permanently raise the pressure. But it didn’t.
I quickly realized the answer. The hydrogen (the only available thing to burn) combined with oxygen (hence combustion) and became water. Water is a thousand times as dense as a gas. So the heat added to the pressure, and the transformation of hydrogen and oxygen into water brought it back down again.
The million dollar question is, where the hell did the oxygen come from? The whole plan was to limit oxygen and keep an explosion from happening. And it was working for quite a while before blowing up.
I think I have my answer. And it comes down to me brain-farting. Remember when I decided not to wear a space suit? That decision almost killed me.
The medical O 2 tank mixes pure oxygen with surrounding air, then feeds it to you through a mask. The mask stays on your face with a little rubber band that goes around the back of your neck. Not an airtight seal.
I know what you’re thinking. The mask leaked oxygen. But no. I was breathing the oxygen. When I was inhaling, I made a nearly airtight seal with the mask by sucking it to my face.
The problem was
exhaling
. Do you know how much oxygen you absorb out of the air when you take a normal breath? I don’t know either, but it’s not 100 percent. Every time I exhaled, I added more oxygen to the system.
It just didn’t occur to me. But it should have. If your lungs grabbed up all the oxygen, mouth-to-mouth resuscitation wouldn’t work. I’m such a dumb-ass for not thinking of it! And my dumb-assery almost got me killed!
I’m really going to have to be more careful.
It’s a good thing I burned off most of the hydrogen
This time, I brought a proper meal, and something to listen to that isn’t disco.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 41
I spent the day running full diagnostics on every system in the Hab. It was incredibly boring, but my survival depends on these machines, so it had to be done. I can’t just assume an explosion did no long-term damage.
I did the most critical tests first. Number one was the integrity of the Hab canvas. I felt pretty confident it was in good shape, because I’d spent a few hours asleep in the rover before returning to the Hab, and the pressure was still good. The computer reported no change in pressure over that time, other than a minor fluctuation based on temperature.
Then I checked the oxygenator. If that stops working and I can’t fix it, I’m a dead man. No problems.
Then the atmospheric regulator. Again, no problem.
Heating unit, primary battery array, O 2 and N 2 storage tanks, water reclaimer, all three airlocks, lighting systems, main computer…on and on I went, feeling better and better as each system proved to be in perfect working order.
Got to hand it to NASA. They don’t screw around when making this stuff.
Then came the critical part…checking the dirt. I took a few samples from all over the Hab (remember, it’s all dirt flooring now) and made slides.
With shaking hands, I put a slide into the microscope and brought the image up on-screen. There they were! Healthy, active bacteria doing their thing! Looks like I won’t be starving to death on Sol 400 after all. I plopped down in a chair and let my breathing return to normal.
Then I set about cleaning up the mess. And I had a lot of time to think about what had happened.
So what happened? Well, I have a theory.
According to the main computer, during the blast, the internal pressure spiked to 1.4 atmospheres, and the temperature rose to 15°C in under a second. But the pressure quickly subsided back to 1 atm. This would make sense if the atmospheric regulator were on, but I’d cut power to it.
The temperature remained at 15°C for some time afterward, so any heat expansion should still have been present. But the pressure dropped down again, so where did that extra pressure go? Raising the temperature and keeping the same number of atoms inside should permanently raise the pressure. But it didn’t.
I quickly realized the answer. The hydrogen (the only available thing to burn) combined with oxygen (hence combustion) and became water. Water is a thousand times as dense as a gas. So the heat added to the pressure, and the transformation of hydrogen and oxygen into water brought it back down again.
The million dollar question is, where the hell did the oxygen come from? The whole plan was to limit oxygen and keep an explosion from happening. And it was working for quite a while before blowing up.
I think I have my answer. And it comes down to me brain-farting. Remember when I decided not to wear a space suit? That decision almost killed me.
The medical O 2 tank mixes pure oxygen with surrounding air, then feeds it to you through a mask. The mask stays on your face with a little rubber band that goes around the back of your neck. Not an airtight seal.
I know what you’re thinking. The mask leaked oxygen. But no. I was breathing the oxygen. When I was inhaling, I made a nearly airtight seal with the mask by sucking it to my face.
The problem was
exhaling
. Do you know how much oxygen you absorb out of the air when you take a normal breath? I don’t know either, but it’s not 100 percent. Every time I exhaled, I added more oxygen to the system.
It just didn’t occur to me. But it should have. If your lungs grabbed up all the oxygen, mouth-to-mouth resuscitation wouldn’t work. I’m such a dumb-ass for not thinking of it! And my dumb-assery almost got me killed!
I’m really going to have to be more careful.
It’s a good thing I burned off most of the hydrogen
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