We quit when the CO2 alarm went off in my suit, indicating the current filter was saturated and needed replacing. In four hours we mounted twelve panels, which means it'll take another five to six hours to finish covering the top of the Whinnybago with solar cells.
All in all, a productive enough day. It kind of fills in for the loss of communications with Earth, which I'm missing a lot more than I ought to. I mean, for the last couple weeks we could barely say anything at all, and in another month or so we should have a clear connection again better than before. But for some reason I feel cut off and alone anyway.
Maybe I'll ask Starlight or Dragonfly to work their water telegraph and let me chat with their bosses. I don't think I've ever spoken directly to them yet. Now might not be a bad time to try it.
Well, not now-now, now. Maybe tomorrow. Tonight Starlight Glimmer has promised a new campaign. She's decided to try making a homebrew adaptation of the D&D rules we have for pony characters.
That's right. I'm going to roleplay a talking horse.
Because hey, if you haven't noticed, my dignity left this planet along with my crew and the Ares III MAV. So why not?
"The Tree of Harmony, its branches limp, its colors dull, deposits the shards of the Elements of Harmony at your hooves."
"How does it do that?" Mark asked. "It's a tree, isn't it?"
"Ssh," Spitfire said. "Magic thing."
The two of them looked at Starlight Glimmer, who glared at them for a moment before resuming her opening to the adventure. "The five of you gathered here, in the very shadow of Nightmare Satellite's castle, made your way across Dark Equestria, avoiding the patrols of the Shadow Storm Troops, to arrive here. And in this holy place, the one place the Nightmare's power has not yet touched, you have been entrusted with the mission of restoring harmony and peace to this accursed land."
Her horn lit up, and a line drawing in light of a rampant mare wearing helmet and armor appeared above her head. "Nightmare Satellite, who returned from a thousand years of exile, destroyed the Elements and imprisoned her sister, Princess Celestia, in the same moon that once held her. Now she rules from the castle just two hundred hooves above where you stand in the gorge, ruling a land that never sees the sun with an iron hoof.
"She rules through seven mares she has brainwashed, seven exceptionally talented and dangerous ponies. Her vizier, the meticulous Dawn Rays. Her chief enforcer, Monochrome Wave. Her chief of intelligence, the unstoppable Pinkie Spy. Her chief of the secret police, Commonplace. The mighty mare-mountain Applecrack. The mistress of the creatures of the night, Fluttermoth. And, second only to Nightmare Satellite herself, the wicked sorceress Garlight Slimmer."
This last name was too much for the others, and they all broke down laughing, even Fireball.
"Hey!" Starlight shouted. "I forgot to put in a real name, all right? That was supposed to be a placeholder."
More laughter, with Mark interjecting, "Whatever you say, Garlight." That set the others off again.
"So hey!" Dragonfly said. "What's her master plan? `Bow to me or you'll loose ten to fifteen pounds in a month while eating what you normally eat?'"
The laughter continued for a moment, then cut off at the sound of one of Starlight's magic-carved crystal dice trundling atop the worktable behind the computer screen.
"What are you rolling for, Starlight?" Mark asked, no trace of amusement in his voice.
"Nothing," Starlight said innocently.
The others looked at each other, then went silent.
"All righty," Starlight said brightly. "Continuing. Only one hope remains to restore Equestrian freedom. The four sacred horseshoes of Celestia lie broken and scattered in the four corners of the kingdom-"
"How do we know?" Cherry Berry asked. "Who's telling us? Isn't it just us and the tree?"
"Rrrgh! You just know, okay? Magic mystic harmony knowledge thing!" Starlight took a deep breath. "You must retrieve the four sacred horseshoes and then bring them all to the Dragonroost to be reforged in the hottest flames of the world by the hottest dragons-"
Mark failed to suppress a snort of amusement. Struggling mightily to not make it two snorts, he covered his mouth and waved away Starlight's furious stare.
"-reforged so that Princess Celestia may be released from her prison. Along the way you will face all of Nightmare Satellite's minions, who must be released from the spell of the Nightmare so that the five Elements whose dust you now hold will be restored. Only then will the sixth element reveal itself, and only with all six elements can Celestia's power be restored and the Nightmare and her evil sorceress overthrown for good."
The five players looked at each other.
"Er," Starlight Glimmer added, a little uncertain, "that's it. You can interact now if you want."
Cherry Berry pushed her computer forward. "I wanna re-roll my character," she said. "I want a hobbit."
"How about we steal airship, turn pirate?" Fireball asked. "Go to that city south of the Burning Sands."
"Pirate is good," Spitfire agreed.
"Does this city in the south have a Thieves' Guild?" Mark asked.
"What I hear," Fireball said, "whole city is thieves."
Cherry Berry looked interested in this. "Do we steal the ship here, or do we go to the city and steal one there?" she asked.
Starlight Glimmer moaned and tapped her forehead against the edge of the table.
Author's Notes:
Classic beginner-DM mistake: drop a sixteen-ton plot hook on top of low-level characters and expect them to defy all common sense.
Yes, Starlight finally found the name Celestia... and she used it as a FAKE name for her Celestia-parallel NPC. Connection not yet made. Might or might not revisit this later.
I read about the flying saints in a 1980s era "Mysteries of the Universe" book; it was in the school library, but I have to wonder how, since it was one of those Time/Life TV-ad mail-order books. I remember absolutely none of the names, but I remember that flying was apparently #3 on the "rubber stamp a Middle Ages saint" miracle list, #2 being stigmata and #1 being the classic, speaking in tongues. It felt like about a quarter of the book was stories of saints, with precisely one "historical" source per saint. (It's worth noting, for those Catholics reading this, that the saints in question were none of the major ones— they were all local priests or monks of one kind or another, not a single martyr in the bunch.)
Wrote about 1800 words today in two short chapters, so the buffer now stands at 2.
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Sol 322
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AMICITAS FLIGHT THREE — MISSION DAY 327
ARES III SOL 322
TRANSCRIPT — WATER TELEGRAPH EXCHANGE, ESA BALTIMARE and ESA SHIP AMICITAS
AMICITAS: Amicitas calling Baltimare, use suit SG for response, over.
ESA: Baltimare calling Amicitas, over.
AMICITAS: Mark wishes to speak to Twilight Sparkle and/or Chrysalis, over.
ESA: QC — lucky you, I just splashed down four days ago. Princess Egghead is busy designing new system for Angel Twelve. Put him on.
AMICITAS: Greetings and salutations from Earth, oh glorious Queen Chrysalis. I am Master Mark Watney, astronaut and explorer. I salute you on behalf of my people, over.
ESA: QC — What did he really say, over?
AMICITAS: No, that was all Mark, over.
ESA: You're putting me on, over.
AMICITAS: DF — He said it, my queen. He says, "Never spoke to a queen before, and I wanted to do it right." Over.
ESA: Hello, Mark. How is my subject? How is my pilot? Tell me what the ponies won't. And leave out the diplomatic talk, I only get that on letters from Canterlot complaining about dumb things like bills, subpoenas, drones running up hotel bills, like that, over.
AMICITAS: "Dragonfly's slowly getting better physically. She still creeps us out sometimes. And Cherry Berry can't make a Streetwise roll to save her neck." Over.
ESA: Don't infect me with your nerdiness, Mark. As for Dragonfly, good to hear she keeps you guessing. Over.
AMICITAS: "How can you be an astronaut and not be a nerd?" Over.
ESA: It's a burden being the one with common sense, but I bear it well. Over.
AMICITAS: "No, seriously. Even Martinez (human crewmate) has a degree in systems engineering. You have to learn tons of stuff to fly. Nerd is how you get to be an astronaut." Over.
ESA: Or you can be the one writing the nerds' paychecks, over.
AMICITAS: "That works too. But if that's the case, why do you fly? It can't be for the science or the adventure." Over.
ESA: You don't have to be a nerd to enjoy being in space. I get to look down on all the little people. What got you out into space, then? Over.
AMICITAS: "Astronauts were always my heroes. And when the Mars missions began, I figured if people were going to Mars they needed to learn how to grow crops there. I was more right than I thought." Over.
ESA: What does that have to do with you?
AMICITAS: "I'm a (scientist of farming). Growing things is my career. Well, was. Now my career is Not Being Killed By Mars." Over.
ESA: Not much chance of promotion there, over.
AMICITAS: "It has more of a future than the alternative. I get to turn forty-two in a few days, so that's something." Over.
ESA: You're having a birthday?? (note: remainder of transmission was too rapid-fire for anyone to decipher, but it went on for quite some time)
AMICITAS: Amicitas calling Baltimare, comms check and get Pinkie Pie away from the life support, over.
ESA: TS — Taken care of. Pinkie asks me to tell you all your backlog of birthday parties will be made up once you arrive safe at home, Mark included, over.
AMICITAS: Amicitas copies birthday parties for all, over.
ESA: TS — Sorry, but we have to go now. Chrysalis says Mark gave her something to think about. That worries me, over.
AMICITAS: DF— That's my queen! What progress on rescue, over?
ESA: TS — No progress without another big spell on your end. Experiments on booster idea show promise, over.
AMICITAS: SG — Will let you know if we have plans for another big spell. Until then we're trying to moderate use of magic to save up battery charge, over.
ESA: Understood. Keep us informed. Out.
Author's Notes:
It's short, but this is all there was for that sol— Mark trying to stave off boredom by chatting up Chrysalis.
Maintaining buffer at two.
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Sol 325
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MISSION LOG — SOL 325
You know, I thought yesterday was a bit subdued because of the book reading. Yesterday was Volcano Day in Lord of the Rings. There was a bit of discussion about whether or not to feel sorry for Gollum's death, but nobody's heart was in it. The attitude was summed up by Cherry, who said, "Well, I wasn't expecting that." Apparently nobody else did, either. In particular Dragonfly didn't say a word about it, and that seemed pretty weird at the time.
Well, now I know. They were quiet because they were plotting and planning. And here's the result (photo attached)— a birthday cake! Yes, they looked it up on the computers and found out that today really is my forty-second birthday. Starlight and Dragonfly must have mentioned it to the others after my chat with Dragonfly's mom.
Quick tangent here— no, Dragonfly is not a princess. If she was there would be tens of thousands of princesses. Apparently changelings can mate without one of them being a queen, but the queen is mother to most of the drones under her rule, or so Dragonfly says. And in any case, Chrysalis doesn't really encourage family bonds. Nobody calls her "Mom" to her face. All this is what Dragonfly tells me, and it sounds like there's a ton more family dysfunction just under that blanket that I don't want to get involved with— especially considering how shit-her-nonexistent-pants terrified she looked when I called her "Princess Dragonfly" as a joke. I won't do that twice.
But back to cake. You see the photo— it's a lovely thing, isn't it? Fancy yellow and red and blue icing that spells out HAPPY 42 MARK in three languages. (Yes, three. You see those stars, rainbows, horseshoes and things around the perimeter? Those aren't decoration. That's actually Ancient Pony pictograms or somesuch. I wonder how you write O THE DIABETES in Ancient Pony?)
Anyway, yeah— beautiful cake. But I knew damn well we had nothing for cake-making. So after congratulating the kids on their work (it's cake!), documenting it for posterity (it's cake!), and singing the pony version of the birthday song (it's cake!), I got them to admit the horrible truth (it isn't cake).
My forty-second birthday was celebrated with a cake sculpted out of mashed potatoes.
To be specific, the ponies microwaved about ten potatoes again and again until they were total mush, removed the skins, mixed in a bunch of salt so it wouldn't be absolute misery to try to eat, sculpted the pile into a cake shape (two layers), stuck it back in the microwave for one more pass, then used magic to seal up the fault lines and to change the color on the surface so it looked like it was iced. And, waste not want not, they took the potato skins plus some more sliced potatoes and used them to make chips like we did at the party a couple weeks back.
But there was one bright spot. Between the two layers they spread a layer of mustard— they found some mustard packs stashed somewhere or other, the last Earth-produced condiment in the Hab, and they used it up to give this alleged cake a flavor other than dreadful. Now mustard isn't my favorite sauce in the world, but it tastes a hell of a lot better than plain mashed potato, so all in all it was a success.
So we ate "cake" and chips, played games (but not Pin the Antenna, because Spitfire's result deserves to stand as perfection for all time), and discussed birthday traditions. As you've read, ponies have birthday parties like our kids do, but there's no shame in playing what we humans would call kiddie games. If it's fun (and won't cause trouble if done in public), they do it, because what's so great about growing up anyway?
(Note: Cherry mentions one big birthday party where everybody got to take rides on what sound like baby hippos. My brain just does not want to process that image.)
Dragonfly tells me the hive didn't even track birthdays until the space race began, but the custom is beginning to catch on with the prosperity of her hive these days. Changelings don't throw parties, though; it's a simple, quiet, private exchange of gifts and maybe a trip with a few friends to do something fun together. (Note to self: must get a better description of this "Fun Machine" Dragonfly mentioned. Her first attempt to explain was something like a Marvel fan explaining the first Avengers movie to someone who's never seen it.)
