“Jesus, Mark, what did you do to that thing?”

“You should see what I did to the rover,” Watney radioed back.

Beck thrust on an intercept course. He had practiced this many times. The presumption in those practice sessions was that he’d be rescuing a crewmate whose tether had broken, but the principle was the same.

“Johanssen,” he said, “you got me on radar?”

“Affirmative,” she replied.

“Call out my relative velocity to Mark every two seconds or so.”

“Copy. Five point two meters per second.”

“Hey Beck,” Watney said, “the front’s wide open. I’ll get up there and be ready to grab at you.”

“Negative,” interrupted Lewis. “No untethered movement. Stay strapped to your chair until you’re latched to Beck.”

“Copy,” Watney said.

“Three point one meters per second,” Johanssen reported.

“Going to coast for a bit,” Beck said. “Gotta catch up before I slow it down.” He rotated himself in preparation for the next burn.

“Eleven meters to target,” Johanssen said.

“Copy.”

“Six meters,” Johanssen said.

“Aaaaand counter-thrusting,” Beck said, firing the MMU thrusters again. The MAV loomed before him. “Velocity?” he asked.

“One point one meters per second,” Johanssen said.

“Good enough,” he said, reaching for the ship. “I’m drifting toward it. I think I can get my hand on some of the torn canvas.…”

The tattered canvas beckoned as the only handhold on the otherwise smooth ship. Beck reached, extending as best he could, and managed to grab hold.

“Contact,” Beck said. Strengthening his grip, he pulled his body forward and lashed out with his other hand to grab more canvas. “Firm contact!”

“Dr. Beck,” Vogel said, “we have passed closest approach point and you are now getting further away. You have one hundred and sixty-nine meters of tether left. Enough for fourteen seconds.”

“Copy,” Beck said.

Pulling his head to the opening, he looked inside the compartment to see Watney strapped to his chair.

“Visual on Watney!” he reported.

“Visual on Beck!” Watney reported.

“How ya doin’, man?” Beck said, pulling himself into the ship.

“I… I just…” Watney said. “Give me a minute. You’re the first person I’ve seen in eighteen months.”

“We don’t have a minute,” Beck said, kicking off the wall. “We’ve got eleven seconds before we run out of tether.”

Beck’s course took him to the chair, where he clumsily collided with Watney. The two gripped each other’s arms to keep Beck from bouncing away. “Contact with Watney!” Beck said.

“Eight seconds, Dr. Beck,” Vogel radioed.

“Copy,” Beck said as he hastily latched the front of his suit to the front of Watney’s with tether clips. “Connected,” he said.

Watney released the straps on his chair. “Restraints off.”

“We’re outa here,” Beck said, kicking off the chair toward the opening.

The two men floated across the MAV cabin to the opening. Beck reached out his arm and pushed off the edge as they passed through.

“We’re out,” Beck reported.

“Five seconds,” Vogel said.

“Relative velocity to Hermes: twelve meters per second,” Johanssen said.