The Martian

by Andy Weir

They say no plan survives first contact with implementation.

NASA, however, is absolutely shitting itself. They see the water reclaimer as a critical survival element. There’s no backup, and they think I’ll die instantly without it. To them, equipment failure is terrifying. To me, it’s “Tuesday.”

I’ll be spreading the resin pretty thin, but it’s literally the strongest adhesive known to man. And it doesn’t have to be a perfect seal. It just has to last long enough for me to get to safety. And where will that “safety” be? Not a damn clue. Anyway, one problem at a time. Right now I’m fixing the EVA suit.

Yes, of course duct tape works in a near-vacuum. Duct tape works anywhere. Duct tape is magic and should be worshiped.

I tested the brackets by hitting them with rocks. This kind of sophistication is what we interplanetary scientists are known for.

I can’t wait till I have grandchildren. “When I was younger, I had to walk to the rim of a crater. Uphill! In an EVA suit! On Mars, ya little shit! Ya hear me? Mars!”

It’s true, you know. In space, no one can hear you scream like a little girl.