Dinner with Mark Chapter 3, a martian, andy weir fanfic

Chapter 3

SOL 61

Tuna noodle casserole

Grape juice

Mark Watney stretched out in his bunk and balanced a tray containing a silver packet ("Tuna Noodle Casserole—Contains Wheat, Eggs, Dairy") and a bottle of grape juice low on his abdomen. "What's the use of being King of Mars if you can't make your own rules?" he wondered aloud. "I hereby declare that dinner is a table-optional meal." After days of being cooped up in the Rover after his unsuccessful attempt at death by surplus oxygen and more days after that bent over his hydrazine-burning apparatus, he was glad of the chance to stretch out.

"Come to think of it, maybe I should be King of the Sea, too. I created enough water—maybe I'm secretly Son of Poseidon," he grinned as he dug into the tuna noodle casserole he'd scheduled for dinner on SOL 61. "If I had a choice, though, I'd rather be Aquaman than Son of Poseidon. That movie in '18 was awesome. But I never understood the whales. How come Aquaman can control whales? They're mammals! Makes no sense. If I were Aquaman I'd be smart enough to know fish from mammals."

Hearing a distant rumble, he looked up sharply, set the tray aside, and moved toward the camera by Airlock 1. "Never heard a Martian storm like that before, not even the night of Mars' Mark-spearing, mission-scrubbing hissy fit." He looked through the camera at the image of a calm Martian night and shook his head.

"Nothing outside," he said. "It didn't even sound like a dust storm anyway—more like an underwater volcano getting ready to blow. That makes no sense either. Back in '15, the MRO found conclusive evidence of water on Mars—if you think of cyclical, sludgy, hydrated salts as water, that is. Me, not so much. It's not like I can use them to water my potato farm. No, not even NASA thinks there are underwater volcanoes on Mars."

Mark returned to his bunk and picked up his tray. "Now, I like starting fires with hazardous chemicals as much as the next guy—I am the proud owner of a Y chromosome, after all—but if there was real, honest-to-God water on Mars, I think I would have dug a well instead."

He finished his meal and tossed the package and bottle into the composter. "Because, yeah, not even Aquaman in his cool new armor can make water," he added as he bent over to examine his potato plants. "But I, Mark Watney, the Supreme King of All Martian Seas can and did. Let there be water," he intoned dramatically, raising his arms towards the ceiling of the Hab.

Boom.

"What the hell was that? Is the Hab still trying to kill me after all?" Mark said as he moved to his laptop to run a diagnostic scan on the Hab and all its components. "Or is the Ghost of Martian Seas Past jealous of my awesome water-creating abilities?"

Boom. Boom.

"OK, jealous ghost it is. Which is cool, because I didn't have enough real scary shit to deal with here."

Doooah yooueeah speeeuhkuh whaaaluh?

No, Dory, the human does not speak Whale. You are to assist the small clownfish to find his son.

Was he by the boat? I just saw a boat go by here not that long ago!

[Sigh.] Yes, Dory. Please follow the boat. Report back to me when you have found the clownfish's son.

Mark sat down again in his bunk and said, "O.K., just who the hell are you? And why am I being visited by characters from Finding Nemo?"

The blue tang is confused. I cannot communicate with her as I can with other fish. One hundred times I have assigned her to help the small clownfish to find his son. One hundred times she has said to me "I saw a boat." Did I ask her whether she had seen a boat? No, I did not.

Mark returned to his laptop and rapidly scanned through Vogel's personal media, which he'd uploaded to his own device. Justice League, Justice League. . . "Are you?"

Yes, I am.

"So you can talk to fish?" Mark asked doubtfully.

Yes, of course. They, like all the creatures that inhabit my watery realm are my subjects.

"But the whales?" Mark said plaintively. "Why whales? How can you talk to whales when they're mammals?"

I have lived many lives. I have gained many skills through these lifetimes. Whales live in the ocean, do they not? I can communicate with all in my realm. I can even communicate with you, Mark Watney.

"Now, that really makes no sense."

Mark Watney, you are human. A male adult human's body consists of approximately 60% water. You do not reside in my realm, but as I command the water, I can communicate with you nonetheless.

"And you're here because?"

The seas and all they contain are my sacred charge. All the creatures that inhabit my watery realm are my subjects.

"Yeah, I think I heard that before," Mark muttered.

And as they are my subjects, their welfare is my obligation. For them to survive, to thrive, the seas, the lakes, the rivers and oceans must be clean and abounding with life. How many years have I railed at Man to cease his plundering of my domain, to cease casting his refuse and chemicals into the seas?

"Whoa, whoa, big guy. Take it easy," Mark pleaded, hands up. "Botanist here, remember? I love water just as much as you do. No water, no potatoes. No potatoes, no Mark. I don't have subjects and domains and all that kingly stuff, but right now, I am Mars' number-one fan of water."

I do not take it lightly when my realm is mocked.

"Mocked?" Mark looked up, astonished. "When have I mocked your realm?"

Have you forgotten "the Son of Poseidon"? Have you forgotten "the Supreme King of All Martian Seas"? I assure you that I have not.

Feeling a chill run down his back, Mark stood up and began to pace. "Oh, that. Fuck," he said nervously. "Pardon my French. 'Boom, boom boom' was you, wasn't it? You really need to ignore about 88.76% of the words that come out of my mouth. I am a clown, an idiot, a boy in man's clothes, a rambling man, a man who doesn't know when to shut up," he finished lamely.

"Seriously, though—I can be serious—mankind has fucked up your realm. Do you know how much a can of tuna fish costs now? It's $21—and that's if you can find it. Dad told me it used to sell for a dollar a can when he was a kid. The seas are overfished, the rivers are still recovering from the drought in the late '20s—and a handful of morons still think global warming's a myth." Running his hand down the plastic sheet enclosing his "farm," he flicked the collected water off onto the soil below.

"So, you're right to be angry," Mark admitted. "Angry with me, angry with all of us humans. Please accept my apology, Your Maj-, umm, Sire—damn it, what am I supposed to call you, anyway?"

Aquaman will do. I am not fond of WaterGuy or FishBoy.

"WaterGuy?" Mark echoed. "WaterGuy? Is that. . .you're making a joke, aren't you?" A smile slowly spread across his face. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Yes, I am often misunderstood. Underappreciated.

"Oh, come on now. Number 10 on the list of most-popular DC characters—that's not too bad, is it?" Mark asked encouragingly. "You did better than Batgirl, the Swamp Thing, even the Martian Manhunter. Really wish I hadn't left my media stick on the Hermes. I could have gone for some good DC stories—or Marvel, for that matter. I go both ways, you know."

Even from an imaginary character, the silence was deafening.

"Ok, shutting up again. But why are you here? Was it just my being a pompous ass and needing a good aqueous smackdown?"

Your being a pompous ass—

"Alert the media. He does have a sense of humor!"

—is why I announced my presence as I did. Perhaps you are not the only one who speaks before he thinks at times. You were correct, however. I cannot make water. When I detected water on Mars where there had been none before, I dared to hope. Hope that some being had succeeded where I had failed. Had found a way to create the most precious substance in the universe. More precious than gold, more valuable than oil.

"The landlubber here is still casting his "most-valuable-substance" vote for breathable air. If mankind runs out of water, I'll drink whiskey."

It has been my experience that when humans call themselves "idiots" they are speaking facetiously. It is a joke. But perhaps you truly are an idiot.

"Now, that just hurts," Mark said. He looked up from his laptop, pausing the sequence he'd initiated to manually shut down the Hab's "daytime" lighting system.

Do you not know that "whiskey" comes from the Gaelic uisce beatha, or water of life?

"Did not know that. I guess I am an idiot. Or maybe just of English ancestry. Although I suppose the Irish would say that's one and the same," Mark mused.

Completing his shutdown of the Hab's daytime settings, he stripped, tossing the inner lining of his EVA suit onto the back of a chair, and pulled on compression tights and a t-shirt. He set the laptop down next to his bunk and lay down. As he stretched out, he pulled the thin blanket with the prominent NASA insignia up over his waist.

Yes, the Irish are some of my favorite humans. Surrounded by water, they have a proper respect for my realm and my subjects. But you, Mark Watney, are much like an island. Did you not know this?

"No man is an island, yeah, yeah," Mark yawned.

I was not referring to the work by John Donne, but to your name, Mark Watney.

"'Mark' means island?"

It does not. According to human researchers, however, 'Watney' is thought to derive from the Anglo-Saxon Watan ig or Wata's Island or Riparian Land.

"Fascinating, but I'm a scientist, not a word geek. I can tell you, though, how I created the water. You know the formula—2 hydrogens plus 1 oxygen," Mark began, settling in for a comfortable discussion between two individuals who both had the highest regard for the subject.

"You may have trouble laying your hands on the hydrazine, though."

Sadly, my knowledge of Aquaman is largely limited to Wikipedia. I'm sure some DC aficionados could do a better job. But that SOL 61 entry in the book cried out for embellishment, and since no one else had taken it on, I added Aquaman to Mark's dinner guests. What did you think Mark was thinking on SOL 61? Let us know—The Martian needs more fan fiction!

There is a great press release from NASA explaining the evidence from the Mars Renaissance Orbiter of water on Mars. I can't seem to include links, but if you Google "MRO Mars water" you'll find it. Enjoy!