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"Hey, asshole!"

Tommy stopped hyperventilating. On the other hand, he also stopped breathing.

"Great work," said Venkat.

Mark shrugged. They wanted someone with a good bedside manner, they should have asked Beck. Actually they had asked Beck. And Martinez. And Vogel. And Johanssen. And Lewis. He was, apparently, the last resort. He didn't know if that was because they were trying to spare him, or because they were trying to spare Tommy.

Venkat had briefed him on the way to Mission Control.

"He's stranded on the moon. It's only for one day."

"Earth day or moon day?"

"Moon day."

"So twenty-nine days."

"Annie's trying to make it sound positive."

"Tell Annie it just sounds deceptive."

"I'll let you do that," said Venkat. "The rescue is already underway. He has plenty of supplies and full communication with Mission Control. It's not that bad."

"It's not that bad? He's spending a month on the moon. If anything goes wrong, he dies."

"I just meant that what happened to you was worse."

"Not if he dies," said Mark. "So what exactly do you want me to say?"

"Just tell him something."

"What?"

"I don't know. You're the only one who knows. That's the point."

Tommy's face had turned blue by the time they got to Mission Control. Annie, Lewis, and Beck were telling him to calm down, but that wasn't working, so Mark decided a different approach was required.

"Hey, asshole!"

"What... did you... call me?" Tommy asked.

"Asshole," Mark repeated slowly, as if Tommy was stupid or Siri. "You're not listening to Lewis, and when people don't listen to Lewis, she gets mad, and when she gets mad, she plays disco. She's my ride home, since they still don't trust me behind the wheel of a car even though I've gone on the longest space road trip in the history of space or road trips. Hence: asshole."

"Why?"

"I just explained-"

"Why... don't they trust you... behind the wheel of a car?" asked Tommy.

"Oh," said Mark. "Flashbacks."

"Flash... backs?"

"Yeah, they're a bitch. You're probably going to get them too, especially if you blow up your base. Don't do that. Hey, I'm not so bad at this advice thing. So, yeah. I'm Mark Watney. You probably know that. They brought me here to tell you how to survive. The first thing order of business is-" Mark broke off. "Goddammit."

"What?" said Venkat. "You've forgotten?"

"Are you kidding? I get flashbacks from the produce aisle. Of course I haven't forgotten."

"Then what?"

"I just hoped I would never have to say this. The first thing order of business is Stayin' Alive."

Venkat looked at him like he was crazy, but that was how Venkat always looked at him. "Of course it is. That's the point."

"No, not staying alive. Stayin' Alive. You've got to find some disco."

"What... the fuck?" asked Tommy. Mark decided he liked him.

"Disco. It's cheerful. It's motivational. Like those posters with the kittens. Humans need that shit. Look, you have food, water, coms. You're practically staying at the Hilton Moon. I'm more likely to die from the look Annie is giving me right now. The moon isn't what's going to get you. You're what's going to get you. You're going to want to give up. I can't count the number times I almost took the NASA issued morphine just so I could stop wondering what was going to kill me."

Mindy flinched. She wasn't the only one, but she was the least subtle. Well, she worked in SatCom. She was used to watching people, not the other way around. His team was much more stoic, except for Martinez, who had quietly started to cry.

"I really, really hate to say it, but disco saved my life." Mark hooked a thumb at his team. "These assholes didn't have anything to do with it."