The Martian by Andy Weir Page B

either. But I’m the administrator of NASA. It’s kind of expected. You sure you’re okay?”
    “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
    “Good,” Teddy said, adjusting his cuff links. “Let’s get back to work, then.”
    “Sure.” Venkat shrugged. “Let’s start with you authorizing my satellite time.”
    Teddy leaned against the wall with a sigh. “This again.”
    “Yes,” Venkat said. “This again. What is the problem?”
    “Okay, run me through it. What, exactly, are you after?”
    Venkat leaned forward. “Ares 3 was a failure, but we can salvage something from it. We’re funded for five Ares missions. I think we can get Congress to fund a sixth.”
    “I don’t know, Venk…”
    “It’s simple, Teddy.” Venkat pressed on. “They evac’d after six sols. There’s almost an entire mission’s worth of supplies up there. It would only cost a fraction of a normal mission. It normally takes fourteen presupply probes to prep a site. We might be able to send what’s missing in three. Maybe two.”
    “Venk, the site got hit by a 175 kph sandstorm. It’ll be in really bad shape.”
    “That’s why I want imagery,” Venkat said. “I just need a couple of shots of the site. We could learn a lot.”
    “Like what? You think we’d send people to Mars without being sure everything was in perfect working order?”
    “Everything doesn’t have to be perfect,” Venkat said quickly. “Whatever’s broken, we’d send replacements for.”
    “How will we know from imagery what’s broken?”
    “It’s just a first step. They evac’d because the wind was a threat to the MAV, but the Hab can withstand a lot more punishment. It might still be in one piece.
    “And it’ll be really obvious. If it popped, it’d completely blow out and collapse. If it’s still standing, then everything inside will be fine. And the rovers are solid. They can take any sandstorm Mars has to offer. Just let me take a look, Teddy, that’s all I want.”
    Teddy paced to the windows and stared out at the vast expanse of buildings. “You’re not the only guy who wants satellite time, you know. We have Ares 4 supply missions coming up. We need to concentrate on Schiaparelli crater.”
    “I don’t get it, Teddy. What’s the problem here?” Venkat asked. “I’m talking about securing us another mission. We have twelve satellites in orbit around Mars; I’m sure you can spare one or two for a couple of hours. I can give you the windows for each one when they’ll be at the right angle for Ares 3 shots—”
    “It’s not about satellite time, Venk,” Teddy interrupted.
    Venkat froze. “Then…but…what…”
    Teddy turned to face him. “We’re a public domain organization. There’s no such thing as secret or secure information here.”
    “So?”
    “Any imagery we take goes directly to the public.”
    “Again, so?”
    “Mark Watney’s body will be within twenty meters of the Hab. Maybe partially buried in sand, but still very visible, and with a comm antenna sticking out of his chest. Any images we take will show that.”
    Venkat stared. Then glared. “
This
is why you denied my imagery requests for two months?”
    “Venk, come on—”
    “Really, Teddy?” he said. “You’re afraid of a PR problem?”
    “The media’s obsession with Watney’s death is finally starting to taper off,” Teddy said evenly. “It’s been bad press after bad press for two months. Today’s memorial gives people closure, and the media can move on to some other story. The last thing we want is to dredge everything back up.”
    “So what do we do, then? He’s not going to decompose. He’ll be there forever.”
    “Not forever,” Teddy said. “Within a year, he’ll be covered in sand from normal weather activity.”
    “A year?” Venkat said, rising to his feet. “That’s ludicrous. We can’t wait a year for this.”
    “Why not? Ares 4 won’t even launch for another five years. Plenty of time.”
    Venkat took a deep breath and thought