I read it fifty times in a row. Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m not a mama’s boy or anything. I’m a full-grown man who only occasionally wears diapers (you have to in an EVA suit). It’s totally manly and normal for me to cling to a letter from my mom. It’s not like I’m some homesick kid at camp, right?

Admittedly, I have to schlep to the rover five times a day to check e-mail. They can get a message from Earth to Mars, but they can’t get it another ten meters to the Hab. But hey, I can’t bitch. My odds of living through this are way higher now.

Last I heard, they’d solved the weight problem on Ares 4’s MDV. Once it lands here, they’ll ditch the heat shield, all the life support stuff, and a bunch of empty fuel tanks. Then they can take the seven of us (Ares 4’s crew plus me) all the way to Schiaparelli. They’re already working on my duties for the surface ops. How cool is that?

In other news, I’m learning Morse code. Why? Because it’s our backup communications system. NASA figured a decades-old probe isn’t ideal as a sole means of communication.

If Pathfinder craps out, I’ll spell messages with rocks, which NASA will see with satellites. They can’t reply, but at least we’d have one-way communication. Why Morse code? Because making dots and dashes with rocks is a lot easier than making letters.

It’s a shitty way to communicate. Hopefully it won’t come up.

All chemical reactions complete, the sheet was sterilized and moved to a clean room. There, a worker cut a strip off the edge, divided it into squares, and put each through a series of rigorous tests.

Having passed inspection, the sheet was then cut to shape. The edges were folded over, sewn, and resealed with resin. A man with a clipboard made final inspections, independently verifying the measurements, then approved it for use.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 115

The meddling botanists have grudgingly admitted I did a good job. They agree I’ll have enough food to last till Sol 900. Bearing that in mind, NASA has fleshed out the mission details of the supply probe.

At first, they were working on a desperate plan to get a probe here before Sol 400. But I bought another five hundred sols of life with my potato farm, so they have more time to work on it.

They’ll launch next year during the Hohmann Transfer Window, and it’ll take almost nine months to get here. It should arrive around Sol 856. It’ll have plenty of food, a spare oxygenator, water reclaimer, and comm system. Three comm systems, actually. I guess they aren’t taking any chances, what with my habit of being nearby when radios break.

Got my first e-mail from Hermes today. NASA’s been limiting direct contact. I guess they’re afraid I’ll say something like “You abandoned me on Mars, you assholes!” I know the crew was surprised to hear from the Ghost of Mars Missions Past, but c’mon! I wish NASA was less of a nanny sometimes. Anyway, they finally let one e-mail through from the Commander: