The Martian A Novel By Andy Weir. Topics fin. Collectionopensource_media DOWNLOAD OPTIONS. download 1 file · EPUB download. The Martian is a science fiction novel written by Andy Weir. It was his debut novel under his own name. It was originally self-published in. Weir, Andy. Martian, richmondtriumphregister.info2. MB. richmondtriumphregister.info KB. richmondtriumphregister.info KB. the-martian-andy-weir. pdf.
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e-books/sci-fi/Andy Weir - The richmondtriumphregister.info Find file Copy path. @jasonzhuyx jasonzhuyx Andy Weir jasonzhuyx. executable file MB. Download History. Nominated as one of America's best-loved novels by PBS's The Great American ReadSix days ago, astronaut Mark Watney became one of the first people to. Moriarty by Andy Weir Moriarty, written by acclaimed SciFi author Andy Weir, known of "The Martian", among others. richmondtriumphregister.info richmondtriumphregister.info
Chances are, though, he won't have time to starve to death. The damaged machinery, unforgiving environment, or plain-old "human error" are much more likely to kill him first. But Mark isn't ready to give up yet. Drawing on his ingenuity, his engineering skills—and a relentless, dogged refusal to quit—he steadfastly confronts one seemingly insurmountable obstacle after the next. Will his resourcefulness be enough to overcome the impossible odds against him? It feels so real it could almost be nonfiction, and yet it has the narrative drive and power of a rocket launch.
All the Ares missions use Hermes to get to and from Mars. Once we got to Hermes, four additional unmanned missions brought us fuel and supplies while we prepared for our trip. Once everything was a go, we set out for Mars. But not very fast. Gone are the days of heavy chemical fuel burns and trans-Mars injection orbits. Hermes is powered by ion engines. They throw argon out the back of the ship really fast to get a tiny amount of acceleration.
Suffice it to say we got to Mars days later without strangling each other. From there, we took the MDV Mars descent vehicle to the surface. The MDV is basically a big can with some light thrusters and parachutes attached. Its sole purpose is to get six humans from Mars orbit to the surface without killing any of them. A total of fourteen unmanned missions deposited everything we would need for surface operations.
They tried their best to land all the supply vessels in the same general area, and did a reasonably good job.
Moriarty by Andy Weir
But they tend to bounce around a lot. Start to finish, including supply missions, a Mars mission takes about three years. In fact, there were Ares 3 supplies en route to Mars while the Ares 2 crew were on their way home. The most important piece of the advance supplies, of course, was the MAV. The Mars ascent vehicle. That was how we would get back to Hermes after surface operations were complete.
The MAV was soft-landed as opposed to the balloon bounce-fest the other supplies had. Of course, it was in constant communication with Houston, and if there had been any problems with it, we would have passed by Mars and gone home without ever landing.
The MAV is pretty cool. Turns out, through a neat set of chemical reactions with the Martian atmosphere, for every kilogram of hydrogen you bring to Mars, you can make thirteen kilograms of fuel.
It takes twenty-four months to fill the tank. It was a ridiculous sequence of events that led to me almost dying, and an even more ridiculous sequence that led to me surviving. The mission is designed to handle sandstorm gusts up to kph. So Houston got understandably nervous when we got whacked with kph winds. We all got in our flight space suits and huddled in the middle of the Hab, just in case it lost pressure.
The MAV is a spaceship. It has a lot of delicate parts. After an hour and a half of sustained wind, NASA gave the order to abort. We had to go out in the storm to get from the Hab to the MAV. That was going to be risky, but what choice did we have? Our main communications dish, which relayed signals from the Hab to Hermes, acted like a parachute, getting torn from its foundation and carried with the torrent.
Along the way, it crashed through the reception antenna array. Then one of those long thin antennae slammed into me end-first. It tore through my suit like a bullet through butter, and I felt the worst pain of my life as it ripped open my side. I vaguely remember having the wind knocked out of me pulled out of me, really and my ears popping painfully as the pressure of my suit escaped. I awoke to the oxygen alarm in my suit.
A steady, obnoxious beeping that eventually roused me from a deep and profound desire to just fucking die. The storm had abated; I was facedown, almost totally buried in sand. The antenna had enough force to punch through the suit and my side, but it had been stopped by my pelvis. So there was only one hole in the suit and a hole in me, of course. I had been knocked back quite a ways and rolled down a steep hill.
Somehow I landed facedown, which forced the antenna to a strongly oblique angle that put a lot of torque on the hole in the suit. It made a weak seal. Then, the copious blood from my wound trickled down toward the hole.
As the blood reached the site of the breach, the water in it quickly evaporated from the airflow and low pressure, leaving a gunky residue behind. More blood came in behind it and was also reduced to gunk.
Eventually, it sealed the gaps around the hole and reduced the leak to something the suit could counteract. The suit did its job admirably.
Sensing the drop in pressure, it constantly flooded itself with air from my nitrogen tank to equalize. Once the leak became manageable, it only had to trickle new air in slowly to relieve the air lost. After a while, the CO2 carbon dioxide absorbers in the suit were expended.
Not the amount of oxygen you bring with you, but the amount of CO2 you can remove. In the Hab, I have the oxygenator, a large piece of equipment that breaks apart CO2 to give the oxygen back. But the space suits have to be portable, so they use a simple chemical absorption process with expendable filters.
Between the breach and the bloodletting, it quickly ran out of nitrogen. All it had left was my oxygen tank. So it did the only thing it could to keep me alive. It started backfilling with pure oxygen. I now risked dying from oxygen toxicity, as the excessively high amount of oxygen threatened to burn up my nervous system, lungs, and eyes.
An ironic death for someone with a leaky space suit: Every step of the way would have had beeping alarms, alerts, and warnings. But it was the high-oxygen warning that woke me. The sheer volume of training for a space mission is astounding. I knew what to do. Carefully reaching to the side of my helmet, I got the breach kit. The idea is you have the valve open and stick the wide end over a hole. The tricky part was getting the antenna out of the way. I pulled it out as fast as I could, wincing as the sudden pressure drop dizzied me and made the wound in my side scream in agony.
I got the breach kit over the hole and sealed it. It held. The suit backfilled the missing air with yet more oxygen. Checking my arm readouts, I saw the suit was now at 85 percent oxygen.
I stumbled up the hill back toward the Hab. As I crested the rise, I saw something that made me very happy and something that made me very sad: The Hab was intact yay! Right that moment I knew I was screwed. I limped back to the Hab and fumbled my way into an airlock. As soon as it equalized, I threw off my helmet. Once inside the Hab, I doffed the suit and got my first good look at the injury.
It would need stitches. Fortunately, all of us had been trained in basic medical procedures, and the Hab had excellent medical supplies. A quick shot of local anesthetic, irrigate the wound, nine stitches, and I was done. I knew it was hopeless, but I tried firing up the communications array. No signal, of course.
The primary satellite dish had broken off, remember? And it took the reception antennae with it. The Hab had secondary and tertiary communications systems, but they were both just for talking to the MAV, which would use its much more powerful systems to relay to Hermes. Thing is, that only works if the MAV is still around. I had no way to talk to Hermes. In time, I could locate the dish out on the surface, but it would take weeks for me to rig up any repairs, and that would be too late.
In an abort, Hermes would leave orbit within twenty-four hours. The orbital dynamics made the trip safer and shorter the earlier you left, so why wait? Checking out my suit, I saw the antenna had plowed through my bio-monitor computer.
The rest of the crew would have seen the pressure in my suit drop to nearly zero, followed immediately by my bio-signs going flat. Add to that watching me tumble down a hill with a spear through me in the middle of a sandstorm. They thought I was dead. How could they not? They may have even had a brief discussion about recovering my body, but regulations are clear. In the event a crewman dies on Mars, he stays on Mars.
Leaving his body behind reduces weight for the MAV on the trip back.
The Martian, 1st Edition Andy Weir ( 2011)
That means more disposable fuel and a larger margin of error for the return thrust. No point in giving that up for sentimentality. I have no way to communicate with Hermes or Earth. Today I took stock of supplies and did a quick EVA to check up on the external equipment.
The surface mission was supposed to be thirty-one days. For redundancy, the supply probes had enough food to last the whole crew fifty-six days. We were six days in when all hell broke loose, so that leaves enough food to feed six people for fifty days. Each crew member had two space suits: My flight spacesuit has a hole in it, and of course the crew was wearing the other five when they returned to Hermes.
But all six EVA suits are still here and in perfect condition. What did you find most surprising about it?
What makes us root for a character to live in a survival story? In what ways do you identify with Mark? How does the author get you to care about him? Do you believe the crew did the right thing in abandoning the search for Mark?
Was there an alternative choice? How did that information add to the realism of the story?
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What are some of the ways the author established his credibility with scientific detail? What is your visual picture of the surface of Mars, based on the descriptions in the book? Have you seen photographs of the planet? Who knew potatoes, duct tape, and seventies reruns were the key to space survival? Do you have a favorite funny line of his? Why do you think he made this choice? After a dust storm nearly kills him and forces his crew to evacuate while thinking him dead, Mark finds himself stranded and completely alone with no way to even signal Earth that he's alive—and even if he could get word out, his supplies would be gone long before a rescue could arrive.
Chances are, though, he won't have time to starve to death. The damaged machinery, unforgiving environment, or plain-old "human error" are much more likely to kill him first. But Mark isn't ready to give up yet. Drawing on his ingenuity, his engineering skills—and a relentless, dogged refusal to quit—he steadfastly confronts one seemingly insurmountable obstacle after the next. Will his resourcefulness be enough to overcome the impossible odds against him?
Fiction Science Fiction Thriller. Publication Details Publisher: Broadway Books Publication Date: More about Andy Weir.
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