lay comfortably while sleeping.
I recently sacrificed one of my two pop tents to be the trailer balloon. The other is in perfect shape. Even better, it has an attachment for the rover’s airlock. Before I made it a potato farm, its original purpose was a lifeboat for the rover.
I could attach the pop tent to either vehicle’s airlock. I’m going with the rover instead of the trailer. The rover has the computer and controls. If I need to know status of anything (like life support or how well the battery is charging) I’ll need access. This way, I’ll be able to walk right in. No EVA.
Also, while traveling, I’ll keep it folded up in the rover. In an emergency, I can get to it fast.
The pop tent is the basis of my “bedroom,” but not the whole thing. It’s not very big; not much more space than the rover. But it has the airlock attachment so it’s a great place to start. My plan is to double the floor area and double the height. That’ll give me a nice big space to relax in.
Hab canvas is flexible. When you fill it with pressure, it wants to become a sphere. That’s not a useful shape. So the Hab and the pop-tents have special flooring material. It unfolds as a bunch of little segments that won’t open beyond 180 degrees so it remains flat.
The pop tent base is a hexagon. I have another base left over from what is now the trailer balloon. So when it’s done, my bedroom will be two adjacent hexes with walls around them and a crude ceiling.
It’s gonna take a lot of glue to make this happen.
The pop tent is 1.2m tall. It’s not made for comfort. It’s made for astronauts to cower in while their crewmates rescue them. I want 2 meters. I want to be able to stand! I don’t think that’s too much to ask.
On paper, it’s not hard to do. I just need to cut canvas pieces to the right shapes, seal them together, then seal them to the existing canvas and flooring.
But that’s a lot of canvas. I started this mission with 6 square meters and I’ve used most of that up. Mostly on sealing the breach from when the Hab blew up.
Goddamn Airlock 1.
Anyway, my bedroom will take 30 square meters of the stuff. Way the hell more than I have left. Fortunately, I have an alternate supply of Hab canvas: The Hab.
Problem is (follow me closely here, the science is pretty complicated) if I cut a hole in the Hab, the air won’t stay inside anymore.
I’ll have to depressurize the Hab, cut chunks out, and put it back together (smaller). I spent today figuring out the exact sizes and shapes of canvas I’ll need. I needed to not fuck this up, so I triple-checked everything. I even made a model out of paper.
The Hab is a dome. If I take canvas from near the floor, I can pull the remaining canvas down and re-seal it. The Hab will become a lopsided dome, but that shouldn’t matter. As long as it holds pressure. I only need it to last another 62 sols.
I drew the shapes on the wall with a Sharpie. Then I spent a long time re-measuring them and making sure, over and over, that they were right.
That was all I did today. Might not seem like much, but the math and design work took all day. Now it’s time for dinner.
I’ve been eating potatoes for weeks. Theoretically, with my 3/4 ration plan, I should still be eating food packs. But 3/4 ration is hard to maintain, so now I’m eating potatoes.
I have enough to last till launch, so I won’t starve. But I’m pretty damn sick of potatoes. Also, they have a lot of fiber, so… let’s just say it’s good I’m the only guy on this planet.
I saved 5 meal packs for special occasions. I wrote their names on each one. I get to eat “Departure” the day I leave for Schiaparelli. I’ll eat “Half-way” when I reach the 1600km mark, and “Arrival” when I get there.
The fourth one is “Survived Something That Should Have Killed Me” because some fucking thing will happen, I just know it. I don’t know what it’ll be, but it’ll happen. The rover will break down or I’ll come down with Fatal Hemorrhoids or I’ll run in to hostile Martians or some shit. When I do (if I live) I get to eat that meal pack.
The fifth one is reserved for the day I launch. It’s labeled “Last Meal.”
Maybe that’s not such a good name.
I started the day with a potato. I washed it down with some Martian Coffee. That’s my name for “hot water with a caffeine pill dissolved in it.” I ran out of real coffee months ago.
My first order of business was a careful inventory of the Hab. I needed to root out anything that would have a problem with losing atmospheric pressure. Of course, everything in the Hab had a crash course in depressurization a few months back. But this time would be controlled and I might as well do it right.
The main thing is the water. I lost 300L to sublimation when the Hab blew up. This time, that won’t happen. I drained the Water Reclaimer and sealed all the tanks.
The rest was just collecting knickknacks and dumping them in Airlock 3. Anything I could think of that doesn’t do well in a near-vacuum. The three remaining laptops, all the pens, the vitamin bottles (probably not necessary but I’m not taking chances), medical supplies, etc.
Then I did a controlled shutdown of the Hab. The critical components are designed to survive a vacuum. Hab depress is one of the many scenarios NASA accounted for. One system at a time, I cleanly shut them all down, ending with the main computer itself.
I suited up and depressurized the Hab. Last time, the canvas collapsed and made a mess of everything. That’s not supposed to happen. The dome of the Hab is mostly supported by air pressure, but there are flexible reenforcing poles across the inside to hold the canvas up. It’s how the Hab was assembled in the first place.
I watched as the canvas gently settled on to the poles. To confirm the depress, I opened both doors of Airlock 2. I left Airlock 3 alone. It maintained pressure for its cargo of random crap.
Then I cut shit up!
I’m not a materials engineer; my design for the bedroom isn’t elegant. It’s just a 2m perimeter and a ceiling. No, it won’t have right angles and corners (pressure vessels don’t like those). It’ll balloon out to a more round shape.
Anyway, it means I only needed to cut two big-ass strips of canvas. One for the walls and one for the ceiling.
After mangling the Hab, I pulled the remaining canvas down to the flooring and re-sealed it. Ever set up a camping tent? From the inside? While wearing a suit of armor? It was a pain in the ass.
I repressurized to 1/20th of an atmosphere to see if it could hold pressure.
Ha ha ha! Of course it couldn’t! Leaks galore. Time to find them.
On Earth, tiny particles get attached to water or wear down to nothing. On Mars, they just hang around. The top layer of sand is like talcum powder. I went outside with a bag and scraped along the surface. I got some normal sand, but plenty of powder too.
I had the Hab maintain the 1/20th atmosphere, backfilling as air leaked out. Then I “puffed” the bag to get the smallest particles to float around. They were quickly drawn to where the leaks were. As I found each leak, I spot-sealed it with resin.
It took hours, but I finally got a good seal. I’ll tell ya, the Hab looks pretty “ghetto” now. One whole side of it is lower than the rest. I’ll have to hunch down when I’m over there.
I pressurized to a full atmosphere and waited an hour. No leaks.
It’s been a long, physically taxing day. I’m totally exhausted but I can’t sleep. Every sound scares the shit out of me. Is that the Hab popping? No? Ok… What was that!? Oh, nothing? Ok…
It’s a terrible thing to have my life depend on my half-assed handiwork.
Time to get a sleeping pill from the medical supplies.
What the fuck is in those sleeping pills!? It’s the middle of the day.
After two cups of Martian Coffee, I woke up a little. I won’t be taking another one of those pills. It’s not like I have to go to work in the morning.
Anyway, as you can tell from how not dead I am, the Hab stayed sealed overnight. The seal is solid. Ugly as hell, but solid.
