[8:21] CAPCOM: Good news. We're putting together a separate supply mission just for you so we don't have to divert and resend more Ares IV supply probes than necessary.
[8:39] WATNEY: How long will it take to make and send?
[8:56] CAPCOM: We're using one of the Ares IV probes and rockets so they're ready to go. We just need to fill it. We have the time to make another one for them. Once we get it together we can send it. Since we're not in the Hohmann Transfer Window it will take longer to get to you but the HTW isn't for another 8 months anyway.
[9:13] WATNEY: I didn't get an ETA on that probe in that answer I noticed. I'm guessing you want to know what I need or want besides food right?
[9:31] CAPCOM: no. We don't have an ETA yet and won't until we can get a launch date. As soon as we have that. we'll let you know, but it will probably be at least nine months, maybe more.
[9:33] CAPCOM: And yes, we need a list of what you want, though we may not be able to get everything. It will depend on whether or not the things you want can withstand the strain of launch and landing.
[9:47] WATNEY: any idea when you'll know the launch date?
[9:53] WATNEY: ok, so the sooner I send you my wish list, the sooner you can get the probe ready. Got it. Let's start with soap and laundry detergent of some kind so I can wash the clothes that are here. Another few sets of sweats would be nice too, but if you can't spare the room please, please, please send me more boxers. Those are a necessity at this point. Music, anything from this century, ask Beck not Martinez for my favorites, or maybe Johanssen. Not my parents either, they'll just send more seventies stuff. Coffee, PLEASE SEND COFFEE! I NEED COFFEE! LOTS AND LOTS OF COFFEE! Coffee seeds would work too then I could grow my own beans. Maybe not actual coffee beans because I don't have a way to roast them. Damn
[9:57] WATNEY: Any new movies you can send, anything Marvel: tv or movies, same with Star Trek and Star Wars. Books, anything other than mysteries, no wait no romance either. A book of solitaire games would be good along with an actual deck of cards, heavy-duty ones preferably. Hey, I forgot to ask who's on CapCom duty today. Who am I chatting with?
[10:03] CAPCOM: the sooner you get us a list, the soon we can set a launch date
[10:09] CAPCOM: ok, our messages crossed paths so I guess I didn't need to send that last one. When you're done making your list, let us know it's the last item and we'll get the list to JPL so they can start packing.
[10:14] CAPCOM: Hi Mark, it's Kayla. I'm on today for this shift, tomorrow it will be Molly, Marianne the day after and I think Taylor the day after that. Just to get ahead.
[10:29] WATNEY: Kayla! How are you? You're still at NASA? Get assigned to another flight yet? I thought you'd be on the moon by now, Molly too. Taylor and Marianne are both Ares IV, right?
[10:48] CAPCOM: I'm good. Yes, I'm still here. I'm in line for a moon mission, a six-month trip. I've been training but we're all picking up these CapCom shifts to spread it out. Molly is trying to get a year-long ISS2 mission or a Moon mission. Yes, Taylor and Marianne are both Ares IV. Anything else you want to add to your wish list for the supplies?
[11:22] WATNEY: Sorry it took so long to get back, Sojourner wandered into my farm and I had to get him out before he crushed any plants. I'll keep thinking about the list and get back to you.
[11:38] CAPCOM: roger
Martinez strolled into the Watney Ares office, grinning like a loon.
"Come on Beck," he said to the doctor who was rapidly tapping away at his keyboard. "We gotta do some shopping."
"It's the middle of the workday, Rick. What the hell do we need to shop for?" Chris asked without looking up.
"Boxers." The grin nearly split his face and laughter rang in his tone.
Beck stopped typing and slowly turned to Martinez with a worried look on his face. "I don't want to know, and I don't want to be a part of it. Whatever it is is not good so count me out."
"Rick, you're in the way," Beth complained from behind the pilot.
"Sorry," he said, sounding anything but, and stepped aside.
"So, who's doing the shopping?" she asked.
"No one," answered Lewis as she walked in the door. "We'll leave that up to someone else."
"Like who?"
"Like his mother."
"Aw come on Melissa," Beth said, "You know you wanna get in on this after all the flack he's given you over your taste in music."
"I won't deny it has some element of-"
"She's in," Rick said.
"That is not what I said."
"Wait, wait." Beck held up a hand. "We're shopping for boxers, as in underwear, for Watney? For Mark?"
"Yep," Beth said.
"Ok… and they're sending these to Mars right, they're not for when he gets home?"
"Yep." This time Rick answered.
"Oh, I am so in." He grinned.
"We do not have time-" Lewis started.
"Sure we do. Count it as a morale booster commander," Chris said. "Beth's right, you know you want to."
"And if you don't let me go shopping," Martinez said, "I'll make his music selections."
She rolled her eyes, tried to look stern, then laughed. "Ok fine, but someone better find Alex, and Martinez, you're getting nowhere near the music."
"Let's split up and see who can find the best undies," Beth suggested.
Melissa just shook her head and smiled, "Ok we'll meet back here in two hours."
"Two hours? That's it?" Rick complained.
"Are we all going individually or in groups?" Chris asked.
"I don't care," Lewis replied, "but the timer has started so you'd better go."
"Beck, you're with me," Martinez said. "Text Vogel and tell him what we're doing and tell him to meet us at my car at the front doors."
"I'm going on my own," Beth said.
"Then I guess I am too," Melissa said.
The four of them rushed through the halls to the parking lot with everyone else watching them practically race each other through the hallways and down the stairs, not one of them waiting for the elevator.
Vogel met them at the doors looking bewildered.
"Remember weight is important, so no more than three pairs each. The worst pair pays for drinks tonight, and the best pair picks the place," Lewis said.
"What is she talking about?" Alex asked at the same time Beth spoke.
"What determines the best and worst?"
"We'll decide that when we get back."
"What is going on?" Alex asked as Chris grabbed his arm and pulled him along to Rick's car.
"Didn't you tell him when you texted?" Rick asked.
"Tell me what?"
"Too much to type as we ran," Chris said then began to explain what they were doing as they got in the car. "We're in a contest to buy the best boxers."
"Why are we doing this? I mean… Yes, why?"
"Mark asked for more underwear in the supplies we're sending him. I was sitting next to Kayla when he asked. He doesn't know that. I told her not to tell him. We can send a message with the boxers."
"As if they won't be message enough on their own," Chris laughed.
"We are all crazy," Alex said. "Let's see what we can find. If we had more time I could get Helena to find some crazy ones in German and send them to us."
"You could still do that."
"You have to do that man."
"Ok, you drive I'll text my wife and hope she doesn't think I've completely lost my brain. She can send us pictures. It's a good thing she's at home packing up the house to move today."
Two hours later in the Ares "Save Mark" office, the Ares III crew gathered again. One of the whiteboards had been erased and numbers had been written along the middle from one to fifteen.
"What's this?" Rick asked as he plopped his shopping bag down on a table and sat down next to it.
"We heard about your little shopping expedition," Molly said from a desk across the room.
"And we figured it wasn't fair for you all to judge each other's purchases," Taylor said from the doorway.
"Well actually," said the Ares I commander, "we weren't sure you'd judge each other fairly, so, we're going to judge for you."
"Thanks, Todd," Melissa said.
"You set this up," Rick accused her.
"Sure did," she said then turned to everyone else in the room. "Anyone not Ares III out for ten minutes as we set up."
The other astronauts grumbled good-naturedly as they left, some of them trying to peek and see what boxers had been bought.
When the room was empty, Melissa looked at her crew. "Ok, so we have ten minutes to show off what we bought and then we need to put them under the numbers."
Everyone sat in a desk chair or on a desk and held their bags tight, no one wanting to be the first to reveal their purchases. They sat and stared at one another.
"Ok, fine," Vogel said, "I will go first, but only one." He reached into his bag and held up a pair covered in pink flamingos.
"Not bad," Johanssen commented, "but I did better." She displayed a pair with tiny unicorns that had rainbows flying out of their horns.
Beck groaned, "Yeah those are better than this set." Hot sauce bottles adorned his first selection.
"I went with food too." Lewis's first choice was donuts.
Three more food options were pulled out and shared: cereal boxes, wakey wakey eggs and bacon, and gingerbread ninja cookies.
They laughed at pairs featuring Hungry Hungry hippos, Star Wars characters in neon on black, shark week themed, and Monopoly prisons. The men of the crew cringed at Beth's choice of a pair of boxers with a Christmas Nutcracker in an unfortunate location.
"Ok Rick, you haven't shown us any of yours. Time's up," Melissa said.
The pilot grinned so wide it nearly split his face. Slowly he opened his bag and even more slowly he pulled out a tissue paper-wrapped package. The others rolled their eyes as he oh so carefully opened the package to reveal Chucky from RugRats. They groaned as the next package revealed Green Lantern symbols all over.
"And I saved the best for last," he smirked and showed them a pair covered in little Mr. Potato Heads.
Vogel barked a laugh. Lewis shook her head. Beck rolled his eyes again. Johanssen laughed so hard that she fell out of her chair.
"Those aren't the best," Chris said. "Those are the worst. That's just mean."
"I know."
"Line them up and let's get out and let the others vote. Meet back here at five-thirty for the results, then we'll go out."
Everywhere they went for the next few hours there was giggling and chuckling in the hallways. It seemed that everyone in the building including Mitch and Annie had made it by the Watney Ares office to vote. Annie was heard mumbling that maybe this should be made an internet vote, let the people get in on the fun, surely Mark would get a laugh about that too. Venkat talked her out of it, convinced Mark would be completely mortified that everyone back on Earth was choosing his underwear. She continued to mutter under her breath complaining that no one was letting her talk about the fun.
At five-thirty when the Ares III crew came back in, the numbers no longer stopped at fifteen but went all the way to twenty-seven and each of the additional numbers had pictures taped up below them, color photos of boxers with pizza slices, the Cubs symbol, Toy Story's Woody, Donkey from Shrek, Rice Krispies, aliens, an interestingly placed hot dog with mustard, Grumpy the dwarf, lime green with neon orange wavy stripes, the planets, Spider-man, and one hundred dollar bills.
"What the hell now?" Martinez complained as he looked closely at each picture.
"Well Alex messaged his wife and told her what you all were doing so she found three pairs and sent pictures," Kayla began to explain.
"That's not fair," Rick whined. "She's not a crew member so those shouldn't count."
"If we're not counting Helena's," Vogel said, "then we can't count Marissa's."
"My wife?"
"Yes, and if we don't count hers, you get to tell her," Beck said with a smirk.
Rick groaned, "Ok fine, but where did the other six come from."
"Grace and Timothy," Kayla said.
"Who told them?"
"No idea," Lewis said, "but I wish I had."
"So there are three winners," Todd started, "and if you interrupt again, Martinez, no matter what numbers yours are, I'm disqualifying you and making you buy drinks for all four crews and not just your own."
Rick grimaced but nodded and bit his lips.
"If one of the winners is not in town, then they are owed a drink by the loser the next time they are. Does that make sense?" Todd asked.
Everyone nodded.
"We're starting with the loser," Kayla announced. "The worst boxers are…"
The few members of other crews in the office mocked a drumroll patting their hands on desks and laps.
"Mr. Potato Head!"
"Aw man that's not fair," Rick whined.
"Sorry bud," Todd laughed, "but those things are awful, just downright cruel."
"And while they were voted the worst, we also agreed they have to be sent," Kayla told them. "They will have Martinez's name on them though, so the rest of you don't have to worry about Mark being mad at you. Mark can spend his free time plotting his revenge."
"He'd have figured it out anyway," Lewis said. "He knows all of us well enough to know it would be Rick that chose those."
"And now the winners: the Cubs pair from Timothy, Johanssen's unicorns, and…" Kayla's grin nearly split her face. "The hot dog as submitted by none other than Marissa Martinez."
"Mierda! I'm never going to hear the end of this," Rick groaned.
"Let's go, Major," Melissa called. "You have some drinks to buy. Beth, since you're in the room you pick the place."
"Just checking with Marissa first," Beth responded, holding up her phone.
"You're texting my wife? Wait, when did you get my wife's phone number?"
"I have it too," Melissa told him.
"Same," added Beck.
"I believe Helena has her number as well, though I do not."
What the hell is going on around here?" Rick complained.
"Come on, Potato Head," Beck said. "I'm thirsty."
Rick hung his head and grumbled, "This has to be my stupidest idea ever."
"Not even close!" came the response from half the room followed by gales of laughter.