A/N Thanks for the follows, faves, and reviews. Just want to make it clear, this is a The Martian + THG mashup. I wanted to see how Peeta Mellark as Mark Watney and Katniss Everdeen as Mindy Park worked out. So I own nothing, I just like to play with other people's toys.
Johnson Space Center, Houston, TX: 2 Months After the Antares 3 Disaster...
Today was a sad day. But the late December sky was clear blue and the sun was shining brightly. You wouldn't know that a memorial for the young astronaut, Peeta Mellark, had just taken place. There should be dark clouds. And rain. The tangible sadness of a slow, soaking, drizzly rain.
Haymitch Abernathy sat slumped at his desk. He was never one for public appearances, but this ranked up there as one of the worst he ever had to be a part of. So many people had spoken. There were meaningful speeches from Peeta's family, touching eulogies from the crew who were still hurtling through space. Then there was the carefully crafted PR piece by that Seneca Crane bastard. Hell, even President Snow came and gave a speech commending Peeta's valiant sacrifice for science, for NASA, for human exploration. America was blessed to have such a fine young man blah blah blah. Haymitch couldn't wait for it to be over and get back to his desk, and more importantly, the flask he kept tucked in the top drawer.
Haymitch Abernathy, director of Mars operations, declined to give a speech for Peeta. Declined is a polite term for it, though. He flat out refused despite the pressure put on him by Seneca (it would make NASA look bad) and Johanna (it would look like he didn't care). Haymitch certainly cared, but he knew that Peeta Mellark was dead and no shitty speech was going to bring him back.
He sat, ruminating, gazing out the window of his office taking occasional sips from his flask when an abrupt knock drew him out of his reverie. "Yeah?" He looked up to see NASA's silver-tongued administrator, Seneca Crane, enter. Haymitch all rough skin and wrinkled suits hated the man with his impeccably crafted beard and always pristine everything. They saw eye-to-eye on very little, or really nothing at all.
"The memorial service was nice," began Seneca as he sat across from Haymitch. Haymitch didn't respond. A memorial for a twenty-seven year old astronaut who died alone on another planet. There's nothing nice about that. "You didn't give a speech," Seneca started again. He was fishing for a response. Haymitch continued to stare out the window without answering. "Kind of surprising for the director of Mars operations..." Seneca prodded. Haymitch glared.
"Cut the bullshit, Seneca. Why are you here?"
Seneca dropped a folder on Haymitch's desk. "Your request for satellite imagery of Antares 3 is denied." Haymitch expected this, but it was frustrating.
"What for?" asked Haymitch.
"We're a public domain organization. Any images we receive will be available to the public within twenty-four hours."
"So?"
"So? So! Peeta Mellark's body is still there. It's going to be within fifty feet of the Habitat with a damned communication antenna sticking out of it. Tell me a scenario in which that image will be a good thing?"
"One that gets us Antares 6," Haymitch answered firmly. "We're currently funded for five Antares Missions. With Antares 3 still mostly intact, we could probably get Congress to let us go for a sixth mission. With all of the supplies there, we'd be able to do the mission at just a fraction of the cost." Haymitch explained. It was all there in the folder if Seneca would have bothered reading it. Haymitch knew the Hab and rovers should be fine. They could take a lot of punishment and the only reason the crew left was because the MAV was threatened. The winds were enough to make it tip, and if it tipped completely over, there would be no way to recover it. All six astronauts would have perished on Mars.
Seneca shifted in his chair and stroked his beard. Additional missions were appealing. On the other hand, the nation had followed closely the death of Peeta Mellark and there had been heavy scrutiny and criticism. The Memorial brought closure to everything. Releasing new images of Antares 3 would open up the can of worms he had worked so hard to put a lid on.
"Maybe...in a year..." Seneca hedged, "when the body has had time to...decompose or maybe been covered in sand..."
Haymitch scoffed, "His body's not going to decompose on Mars and a year is just too long. We need to know the status of the site now so we can see what needs to be sent and start the proposals to Congress. A year's delay is just too much. Depending on what we find, I think we'll only need two or three resupplies to make the Antares 3 site ready for a full mission again." Again it was all in the folder that Seneca obviously hadn't bothered to read.
"So what do you propose?" Seneca asked, leaning back in the chair. He brought his elbows to rest on the arms of the chair, steepling his fingers, and rested his chin on them.
Seneca was cracking, Haymitch could see it. He went in for the kill.
"I'll tell you what. You tell them that Antares 6 is going to collect Peeta Mellark's body and bring it home. That'll move public support in your favor and win Congress's favor too. Anything to make the constituents happy. If we strike now while the iron of public opinion is hot and while this whole thing is still fresh in their minds we'll be more successful. Do this in a year when everyone has moved on and it'll be a lot harder to get support."
Seneca considered Haymitch's words for several tense moments before nodding, "We'll do it. I'll let Johanna know so we can have a statement prepared for the press."
Haymitch smirked to himself after Seneca left. He knew the way to Seneca's heart: money and adoration. Then another wave of sadness washed over him when he thought of a lone body on Mars waiting years to come home.
Katniss Everdeen was a fresh face at NASA, having just graduated the past spring with a Master's in Mechanical Engineering, she was hired right away to work in Satellite Condition or SatCon for short. The night shift in SatCon was nothing to write home about. Actually, it had been a little of a letdown. For whatever the reason, Katniss had expected more. More what? She didn't know, but she certainly didn't expect to feel like she was working the nerdy version of a photo counter at the drugstore. Still, she got her pay check, could live successfully on her own, and was no longer struggling as she had in the past. And she had to admit, she liked the quiet and interacting with as few people as possible. Though it did make calling and visiting her sister Prim difficult with her days and nights flipped.
She sipped her coffee and shuffled through the work orders. In addition to monitoring the position of satellites around Mars, she sent e-mails to different departments as their requested imagery became available.
A new work order caught her eye. The Haymitch Abernathy had requested imagery of Antares 3. Why would he want imagery of that site now? It had been avoided like the plague since Peeta Mellark's death. They obviously didn't want images of his dead body getting out. Press was bad enough without that. When she looked it up, it turned out that seventeen images had been captured. She leaned forward and pushed her braid over her shoulder. With trepidation, she clicked on the file and began to open the images.
At first she was nervous about what she would see. She could feel the adrenaline beginning to flow in her veins making her heart stutter. She was the first person to see these images. She opened the first photo. Like a child, Katniss covered her face, then began to peek through her fingers. She felt really strange about the idea of seeing a real dead body. She could handle dead animals, gut and skin them even, but people were another thing and it made her squeamish. When the thing she feared most, Peeta's body, didn't show up, she dropped her hands from her face and began to scrutinize the image closely, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. There was no body, no body at all. She clicked through the images. The Hab was intact, that should make Abernathy happy, but there were bits of canvas next to the Hab. What were those? She pulled up NASA's intranet and looked up specifics on the Antares missions. After rapidly educating herself, she returned to the photoset. Then she noticed some other odd things in the photos. She picked up the phone, "Hi, this is Katniss Everdeen down in SatCon...yeah, doing good...um, could you send me the mission log for Antares 3...I need it right away...Yeah...Okay, good. Thanks. You too."
Katniss looked closely at all seventeen satellite images and at the six Sol mission log, then back at the photos, and back at the log. At the end of an hour she felt her chest constricting and she had to focus on breathing deeply. It couldn't be. But it was. It was impossible, but the truth of it was staring her in the face.
"He's alive." Katniss gasped, looking at the newest photoset from Mars. She had double checked, triple checked. Her heart pounded as she picked up the phone. "This is Katniss Everdeen in SatCon, get Haymitch Abernathy...yes, I'm aware of what time it is. It's an emergency...Yes, I'm sure! Good." NASA was about to be in the middle of a PR shitstorm.
Two hours later, Katniss found herself sitting across from a very disheveled, very disgruntled Haymitch Abernathy. Katniss may have preferred to face a firing squad at that moment. "It's the middle of the night and I've got about two hours of sleep. This had better be good, Sweetheart."
Never one to break news gently or to have much tact she just delivered the truth bluntly. Leaning forward, Katniss looked Haymitch in the eye and said, "Peeta Mellark is alive."
"Oh, shit."
Katniss pulled up the images and proceeded to show Haymitch what she saw. First, there were two bits of canvas next to the Habitat. "These are the poptents from the rovers. I checked the logs and they never deployed the poptents. And here, the rover...um, Commander Odair used rover 2 on Sol 5, and when he returned, he plugged it in to charge it. But, on Sol 6, with the dust storm, no one used the rover. But here, in the image, you can see the rover is unplugged and turned around." Her voice was shaky, but she was confident in her analysis.
Haymitch eyed her. These small things seemed easy to explain. Maybe the pop tents deployed on their own because of the force of the storm, or it was some sudden back up maneuver in case the crew didn't make it to the MAV. The rover being turned around didn't mean anything big, maybe they had gotten ready to use it and didn't say anything.
Katniss continued, "...and then there are the solar cells. They should be covered in dust, but they're clean." Haymitch thought maybe, just maybe a wind could be strong enough to clean the cells without depositing more dust, but the "coincidences" were adding up. She went through the rest of the photos where she noted other anomalies around the Antares 3 site. His shoulders slumped under the weight of Katniss' news and subsequent proofs. He'd have to contact that bastard Seneca and Johanna. This was going to be big and there was little time to prepare a statement, any sort of response, much less figure out how to rescue Peeta Mellark.
"Fuck!" exclaimed Johanna.
"Really, Johanna," Haymitch reproached.
Haymitch sat at the immaculate mahogany desk of NASA administrator Seneca Crane with NASA's director of media relations, Johanna Mason. Haymitch wished for his flask right now. He was still running on a measly two hours of sleep and Seneca and Johanna weren't doing much better.
"How certain are you that Mellark is alive?" Seneca asked, his piercing blue eyes reflecting his skepticism.
Haymitch shrugged, "99%. I mean, this could all be coincidence, but that's a lot of coincidences all piling up into one hell of a mistake." He was so tired and was in no mood to argue.
" Double fuck." said Johanna Mason.
"Not. Helping. Johanna." said Seneca. Turning to Haymitch he asked, "What makes you so sure?"
Haymitch sighed, leaned forward, and tossed the Satellite pictures on Seneca's desk. He slid the first images to Seneca, who automatically lined it up with the edge of his desk, "For starters, there's no body."
Seneca was nonplussed, "It could have been buried by the sand."
"And the poptents were deployed."
"Could've been deployed by the crew." Seneca returned.
"There's no record of it in the logs."
"Maybe they deployed them and didn't say so."
"That's doubtful." Haymitch rubbed his dry irritated eyes.
"The storm triggered something in the rovers that caused the poptents to deploy," Seneca suggested.
"Triggered both poptents to deploy and line up neatly next to the Hab?"
"Noted. What else?" Seneca asked.
"Well, there's the rovers themselves," Haymitch began, "Commander Odair was the last one to use rover 2, and when he did he plugged it in to recharge it. That rover is now facing the other way and is not plugged in."
"So maybe they used it again, but in the chaos neglected to log it."
"That's not possible," Haymitch answered definitively. "The sandstorm on Sol 6 aborted all operations. The solar cells are also clean."
"Another wind, say 20-25 miles per hour could have cleaned the previous sand off without depositing more sand." Seneca was grasping at straws, seriously reluctant to admit Peeta Mellark could be alive. The only thing worse than a dead astronaut on Mars was a live astronaut on Mars.
Lifting another picture and sliding it across to Seneca, who unconsciously straightened it, Haymitch continued, "And here's the clincher. The MDV has been deconstructed and the MAV's fuel plant has been removed. There's not even the remotest hint of this in the Log and no reason for the crew to have done this. In fact, messing with the MAV would have been dangerous. Peeta is down there. He is alive. And he is apparently up to something. You have Katniss Everdeen from SatCon to thank for noticing all that, by the way."
"FUCK!"
"Not helping Johanna!" Seneca and Haymitch said together.
Johanna huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why don't we go down to CAPCOM and talk to Commander Odair and the crew to see if they have an explanation for the discrepancies in these damn pictures?"
Seneca and Haymitch exchanged knowing looks.
"What?" Johanna asked.
Haymitch slouched and looked away. Seneca stared down at the photos.
"What?!" Johanna demanded. Her eyes darted between the two men.
Haymitch looked back to Seneca indicating he needed to answer. Seneca coughed.
Johanna's eyes widened in understanding before Seneca could say anything. "Oh. They don't know," she said quietly. "And you aren't going to tell them." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. "Why the hell not?" Johanna's voice reached normal Johanna levels, which is to say, loud.
Seneca finally found his voice, "We don't want them to be...distracted."
"FUCK!"
Seneca sighed. It was like Johanna had this daily "fuck" quota and she was going to use it all up in this one meeting. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "The crew is already mourning Peeta Mellark's death. What do you think would happen if they found out they left a living crewmate behind on Mars?"
Johanna turned to Haymitch, looking for an ally, "Surely you're not on board with this."
Haymitch slumped a little under her scrutiny.
Haymitch and Seneca did not often agree, but this was one of the o.o1% of times they did. "Let them deal with it when they aren't flying a damned spaceship around," he muttered.
Johanna wasn't convinced. "This is going to be the biggest news since Neil fucking Armstrong walked on the Moon. Just how exactly to you plan to keep the crew from finding out?"
Seneca folded his hands neatly in front of him and answered evenly, "Easy. We control all communication with them." Anxious to make a plan, he pressed forward, "So what can you do for us, Johanna? When do you want to go public."
Johanna huffed, "I can hold the pictures for 24 hours. Prepare a statement. Call a press conference. We're going to have to admit we believe he's alive. We don't want people piecing it together themselves; we'd look like assholes. Do you have any idea of the magnitude of the fucking shitstorm this is going to be?" Johanna asked. Seneca shrugged, they'd already been through that for the past two months. This incensed Johanna further, "You don't have to face those damn reporters every day. I do! Who else knows? I don't want this leaking before we have the images and statement ready to go."
"No one except us three and Katniss Everdeen in SatCon" Haymitch answered.
"Well make sure no one else knows. I'll talk to Katniss myself. What about Peeta Mellark's family? Better they hear from us than the news."
Seneca leaned back in his leather chair, "I'm going to drive up to Panem today to tell them."
"I'm sure they'll be glad to hear he's alive." Johanna offered.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Seneca sounded genuinely sorry, "He'll likely starve to death before we can rescue him."
"FUCK!"
"JOHANNA!" Haymitch and Seneca yelled in unison.
Johanna left to talk to Katniss, Seneca made final preparations to leave for Panem, and Haymitch went back to his desk and flask and stared out the window. Peeta Mellark was alive. And right now it felt like there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do about it.
"Shit," said Haymitch.
Katniss heard a sharp knock on her office door. "Come in." she called. She was weary. She didn't know how she managed to process the imaging requests she had done. After looking at imagery of Antares 3 she was emotionally and physically spent. And no amount of caffeine could overcome the exhaustion she felt.
"Katniss Everdeen?" asked the lithe brunette. Katniss nodded in affirmation. "Johanna Mason, director of media relations." Johanna held out her hand. Katniss shook it weakly. She had no idea what to expect. Johanna had a formidable presence and Katniss felt off kilter.
"I want to talk to you about the Satphotos you got from Antares 3." Again, Katniss nodded. Johanna continued, "At this time you are among the only four people in the world that know Peeta Mellark is alive. Tomorrow we will hold a press conference when we release the photos." Katniss nodded again to indicate she was listening. But she was uncertain why the director of media relations was talking to her. "So, Brainless, I want to warn you on pain of death to not spill the beans before then." Katniss gulped, who would she tell? "Second, you are going to be there. After the initial announcement we'll need you to be prepared to answer questions."
Katniss found her voice now. "What!" she squeaked.
Johanna rolled her eyes, "Look, you're the first to see the photos, you're the one to tell Haymitch, you read over the mission logs before talking to Haymitch. At this time, with Haymitch and Seneca, you have the expertise, you're the SME."
Katniss looked uncertain. She didn't feel special. She certainly didn't want to face the sharkpit of reporters. "I don't think I can do that," she said haltingly, her heart pounding. "Surely you have someone more qualified...I mean, I've only been here half a year and..." Katniss was wringing her hands wanting very much to not have to do what Johanna said.
"Well, don't worry about it Brainless, you'll probably only need to advise Haymitch or Seneca. But we need you around during the press conference so make sure you're here."
"But I work night shift."
"And? I work day shift, but here I am at 4 in the freaking morning because someone called an emergency meeting." Johanna retorted.
"Okay." Katniss finally relented. She never wanted to be the center of attention, she didn't want to be the SME, she just wanted to go home in peace and quiet, have a microwave dinner, and sleep, but it looked like she didn't have a choice.
It was Johanna's turn to nod now. She made for the door and turning back said, "Good, see you tomorrow. And remember, Not. A. Word. Got it?" Her eyes flashed dangerously.
Katniss nodded again.
"Because if you do, I'll bury an axe in your face." Katniss believed her. Johanna was a force to be reckoned with and Katniss found herself speechless in her presence.
Haymitch lifted his head from his desk and smacked his lips. He'd been out for a while. Katniss's middle of the night wake-up call and his subsequent meeting with Seneca and Johanna had been draining. It was about midmorning now and the sun shone through his windows. He rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his long hair. Squinting in the sunlight he gazed out the windows and considered the next step.
It was clear from the pics that the comm array at Antares 3 was trashed, but there had to be some way to communicate with Peeta, some sort of back up or alternative. He picked up the phone. "Chaff! How you doin' you old bastard?...Yeah, look, I have a situation and I need your best people, as many as you can spare to work on it...I want to find out if there is any way to communicate with Antares 3...Well, you know how I wanted to score a sixth Antares mission?...We just got the imagery back last night...Annnd, there's a problem. Are you alone?...Chaff, we're pretty sure- like nearly 100% sure- that Peeta Mellark is alive." Haymitch pulled the phone from his ear to protect his hearing from Chaff's reaction, then just as quickly put it back to yell at him, "Hey! HEY! Cool it! Will ya? No one can know about this right now!...No, kidding. So, like I said, we need to figure out a way to communicate with him. If he had a way to send a message, he'd have done it by now...So, what I want is for your people to figure out any possible way to communicate with him, we'll cover overtime, extra pay, whatever, just get them working on this right away. And make sure it's people we can trust as they aren't making the announcement until tomorrow...Thanks man, I owe you one!...Ha! You got that right!...Yeah, I'm sorry too, I'll be in touch."
It had long been dark out when Haymitch found himself sitting with the Leeg twins. Nicknamed Leeg 1 and Leeg 2, Alice and Lucy were Chaff's best "men" in NASA communications. They were brilliant, if quirky, women. Haymitch didn't know whether to be pleased or concerned by how quick their work was concluded, but from the looks on their faces, it didn't appear he was getting good news. Shit, he could use some good news today.
"There's no way to communicate with Antares 3," said Alice. Well she certainly doesn't beat around the bush.
"No way?" Haymitch repeated. Disbelief written all over his weary features.
"None," reiterated Alice.
Haymitch flung himself back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling and rubbed his face then sat back up to face the twins, "Are you shitting me? You had twenty experts working on this for twelve hours. We have a multibillion-dollar communications network and you can't find any way to talk to him?"
"It's impossible," said Lucy.
"And why the hell is that?" Haymitch exclaimed before catching himself. "Uh, I'm sorry. Please, explain."
"He doesn't have a radio," said Alice.
"Actually, he's got a radio, but he doesn't have a satellite dish," corrected Lucy.
"The thing is, without a dish, the signal would have to be really strong," said Alice.
"Like, melt the pigeons strong," added Lucy, helpfully.
"Like barbecue the squirrels strong."
"Like fry an egg on it strong."
"Like roast a-"
"Ladies!" Haymitch interrupted.
"Sorry," they said in unison.
"Tangent," whispered Lucy.
"We thought we could use the Martian satellites," started Alice.
"But the math doesn't work out," supplied Lucy. "They just don't have the juice. They'd have to be eleven times more powerful."
"Fourteen times," interrupted Alice.
"Eleven times," corrected Lucy.
"No, fourteen times," Alice reiterated, "You're forgetting the amperage for the heaters."
"Fourteen times," conceded Lucy.
Haymitch's eyes bounced between the two women like watching a ping-pong match. "Ladies, I get the idea, please continue."
"Sorry," they answered in unison.
"So, please explain to me how a single sandstorm took out all communications at Antares 3? I mean, there are backups." Haymitch redirected the conversation.
"Failure of imagination," answered Alice, "Totally didn't see it coming".
" A chink in the armor," added Lucy, quietly.
"But the backups!" began Haymitch again, frustration evident. "We had backup comm systems?"
Alice took a deep breath, "There were three backup systems," she began, "The primary comm system was routed through the satellite dish. It blew away in the storm. And all the backups were routed through the MAV."
"Yeah, the MAV is like a communication machine," said Lucy, "It can talk to Earth, Hermes, Martian satellites..."
"It would take a meteor strike to take out its ability to communicate," said Alice.
"Or driving it into the sun..." said Lucy.
Haymitch narrowed his eyes. The women straightened in their chairs.
"But Commander Odair and the crew took the MAV when they evacuated," said Alice.
"So four communications systems became one," said Haymitch beginning to put it together.
"And that one was destroyed in the storm," Lucy completed the thought.
Haymitch was floored. How could they have overlooked this? "You mean to tell me they never supplied a backup system of communication in the Antares Habitats?"
"Well, they never saw the need," said Alice.
"They never expected to have people on Mars without the MAV," said Lucy.
"Yeah, what are the odds?" said Alice.
"One in three based on empirical data," said Lucy.
"That's pretty bad if you think about it," said Alice thoughtfully.
"Shit," said Haymitch.
The next day
Johanna Mason was indeed the formidable woman Katniss found her to be. Same for Seneca and Haymitch. While she and Haymitch could exchange witty, sometimes caustic banter, neither man ever wanted to be on her bad side. That bull dog exterior is what made her fantastic in media relations. She had a thick skin, and an "I don't give a fuck" attitude that helped her keep her composure even under the heavy criticism following Peeta Mellark's death. However, she found herself pacing nervously in the green room working to breathe deeply. Most press conferences were easily predictable, interesting for a day or so, and the news moved on to other things. This press conference would go down in infamy as she announce NASA's biggest fuck up in history. It would be remembered forever. Every word she said or move she made this morning would be etched forever on the public consciousness. Everyone would remember where they were when it was announced that Peeta Mellark was indeed alive on Mars. News stations would play the video over and over. This was going to be a defining moment in her career.
It was finally showtime. She schooled her features, her stony exterior not giving away her nerves. Steadily she made her way to the pressroom and took the podium. Taking a deep breath, she address the crowd of reporters.
"We have an important announcement to make so if you will all please take your seats."
The hum of light chit chat died down, reporters found their seats, photographers and cameramen readied their cameras vying for the best shots.
"What's this about Johanna? Something happen with Hermes?" queried Cressida, a rather striking reporter from NBC.
"Please take your seats." Johanna repeated.
When everyone was settled Johanna began her prepared speech.
"This is a short but very important announcement," Johanna said, "I won't be taking any questions at this time, but we will have a full press conference with Q&A in about an hour. We have recently reviewed satellite imagery from the Antares 3 site and have confirmed that astronaut Peeta Mellark is, currently, still alive."
Utter silence. A beat. Then the room exploded with noise.
A Week Later...
Haymitch and Johanna were standing onstage in the pressroom along with countless other NASA managers and executives. They were surrounded by reporters desperate for the next piece of news, however minor. A week after the Johanna's staggering announcement, it was still the top story on every news outlet in the world. You could report that Peeta Mellark wiped his ass and they'd be all over it.
Haymitch leaned in to Johannna, "I'm getting sick of these daily press conferences," he said out of the side of his mouth.
"I'm getting sick of hourly press conferences," Johanna replied. She thought she had been put through the ringer when Peeta Mellark died, but that was nothing compared to this. The reporters were relentless in pursuit of more information.
They noticed the reporters turn and saw Seneca stride up on stage. He squared some flash cards in his hands and addressed the reporters, "Sorry I'm late. Let's begin, shall we?" He flashed a brilliant smile at the reporters. The reporters showed their eagerness to get started. "In the nine days since announcing Peeta Mellark's survival, we've had a massive show of support from all sectors..."
"That smile is a money maker." Haymitch muttered to Johanna. "If I tried to flash a smile like that, the room would clear out."
Johanna fought to keep her composure, and mumbled back, "I'd be more likely to just flash them."
"Shit, Johanna," said Haymitch.
Now it was Haymitch's turn to fight to keep a straight face. Seneca continued his speech, "...shows the level of support everyone has toward helping us. The public is engaged and we will do our best to keep everyone informed."
"Don't dish it if you can't take it," said Johanna.
"That's why you're my favorite, dear."
"Not much competition there." said Johanna.
"You don't have much competition anywhere." Haymitch said, still staring at Seneca.
Johanna shot him a quick look and went back to staring at Seneca.
Seneca went on to announce a daily segment on CNN to keep everyone informed on Peeta Mellark's situation, that satellites surrounding Mars were set on trajectories that maximized viewing time of the Antares 3 site, and expressed the hope of catching Peeta outside sometime so they could assess his physical health. "I can't promise we'll succeed in rescuing him, but I can promise this: The entire focus of NASA will be to bring Peeta Mellark home. This will be our overriding and singular obsession until he is either back on Earth or confirmed dead on Mars." Seneca concluded the press conference and they cleared out of the press room.
After the press conference, Seneca came to Haymitch's office.
"Nice speech." Haymitch offered. His voice was gruff with exhaustion, but he was sincere.
"Thanks. I meant it. We're going to do all we can to rescue Mellark."
"I believe you."
"So what did you want to talk to me about?"
"Well, I've been talking to the folks at JPL and we've come up with an idea. It's risky and definitely dangerous." Haymitch said, "but the Antares 4 crew is totally on board with it and willing to try. Actually they're pushing pretty hard for it."
"That makes sense," said Seneca stroking his beard. "Astronauts inherently gravitate to risk. And they're noble to a fault. What's the plan?"
Haymitch described a maneuver in which the MDV for the Antares 4 mission would be "misused" to land at Antares 3, pick up Mellark, then fly horizontally to the Antares 4 site.
"How will they carry the extra fuel?" asked Seneca.
"By dropping the base weight."
"But it's already as light as possible. Everything in space travel is. How are they going to make it lighter?" Seneca's natural skepticism returning.
"They'll remove safety and emergency equipment and add on fuel tanks," answered Haymitch.
"So we'll risk six more lives for the sake of one?" Seneca's disapproval was apparent.
"Well, I think the Antares 4 crew should stay on board the Hermes and the pilot should just descend and pick up Peeta, then return to the Hermes, but that would mean scrubbing the whole mission. They'd rather risk death than give up the mission," explained Haymitch.
"Astronauts," said Seneca.
"Astronauts," agreed Haymitch.
"Well, that's a ludicrous idea and I'll never okay it."
"We'll keep working on it," said Haymitch, "make it safer."
"Can Mellark even survive until Antares 4?"
"No."
"Work on that, too."
"Yeah, got it," said Haymitch.
Seneca stood, putting his hands on his hips, and looked out into the deepening twilight outside of Haymitch's windows. "What must it be like?" He wondered aloud. "He's stranded out there. Alone. He knows we believe he's dead and that we've all given up on him. What kind of effect does that have on a man's psychology?" He turned back to Haymitch, "I wonder what he's thinking right now?"
Sol 61
"Damn, I really need a haircut."