He turned to Venkat. “It could have been a lasting legacy of scientific research. Now it’s a delivery run. We’ll get a Chinese astronaut on Mars, but what science will he bring back that some other astronaut couldn’t have? This operation is a net loss for mankind’s knowledge.”

“Well,” Venkat said cautiously, “it’s a net gain for Mark Watney.”

“Mmm,” Zhu Tao said.

• • •

“DISTANCE 61 meters, velocity 2.3 meters per second,” Johanssen said.

“No problem,” Martinez said, his eyes glued to his screens. One showed the camera feed from Docking Port A, the other a constant feed of the probe’s telemetry.

Lewis floated behind Johanssen’s and Martinez’s stations.

Beck’s voice came over the radio. “Visual contact.” He stood in Airlock 3 (via magnetic boots), fully suited up with the outer door open. The bulky SAFER unit on his back would allow him free motion in space should the need arise. An attached tether led to a spool on the wall.

“Vogel,” Lewis said into her headset. “You in position?”

Vogel stood in the still-pressurized Airlock 2, suited up save his helmet. “Ja, in position and ready,” he replied. He was the emergency EVA if Beck needed rescue.

“All right, Martinez,” Lewis said. “Bring it in.”

“Aye, Commander.”

“Distance 43 meters, velocity 2.3 meters per second,” Johanssen called out.

“All stats nominal,” Martinez reported.

“Slight rotation in the probe,” Johanssen said. “Relative rotational velocity is 0.05 revolutions per second.”

“Anything under 0.3 is fine,” Martinez said. “The capture system can deal with it.”

“Probe is well within manual recovery range,” Beck reported.

“Copy,” Lewis said.

“Distance 22 meters, velocity 2.3 meters per second,” Johanssen said. “Angle is good.”

“Slowing her down a little,” Martinez said, sending instructions to the probe.

“Velocity 1.8…1.3…,” Johanssen reported. “0.9…stable at 0.9 meters per second.”

“Range?” Martinez asked.

“Twelve meters,” Johanssen replied. “Velocity steady at 0.9 meters per second.”

“Angle?”

“Angle is good.”

“Then we’re in line for auto-capture,” Martinez said. “Come to Papa.”

The probe drifted gently to the docking port. Its capture boom, a long metal triangle, entered the port’s funnel, scraping slightly along the edge. Once it reached the port’s retractor mechanism, the automated system clamped on to the boom and pulled it in, aligning and orienting the probe automatically. After several loud clanks echoed through the ship, the computer reported success.

“Docking complete,” Martinez said.

“Seal is tight,” Johanssen said.

“Beck,” Lewis said, “your services won’t be needed.”

“Roger that, Commander,” Beck said. “Closing airlock.”

“Vogel, return to interior,” she ordered.

“Copy, Commander,” he said.

“Airlock pressure to one hundred percent,” Beck reported. “Reentering ship.… I’m back in.”

“Also inside,” Vogel said.

Lewis pressed a button on her headset. “Houst— er… Jiuquan, probe docking complete. No complications.”

Mitch’s voice came over the comm. “Glad to hear it, Hermes. Report status of all supplies once you get them aboard and inspected.”

“Roger, Jiuquan,” Lewis said.

Taking off her headset, she turned to Martinez and Johanssen. “Unload the probe and stow the supplies. I’m going to help Beck and Vogel de-suit.”