“I’m alive because of potatoes, Commander. And terrible, terrible dubbing.”
He grew his first potato. He held it up to the camera, then to the screen, where a dubbed version of Theri was playing. On screen, Vijay’s character was also holding a baby. The dubbing artist, with misplaced intensity, yelled, “En magaluku dhaan indha ulagame! (This whole world is for my daughter!)” Mark looked at his potato. “This whole world is for you, too, Spud,” he whispered. the martian in isaidub
By Sol 40, he had memorized every rock, every rust-colored dune, and every line of Commander Lewis’s terrible romance novels. He had even started talking to the rover. The rover, unimpressed, did not reply. Desperate, Mark rigged the communication dish to scrape for any stray signal from Earth, not for rescue—the dish was too weak for two-way—but for noise . Any noise. “I’m alive because of potatoes, Commander
