Mindy Park sat calculating how soon she could escape from the reception. The dull roar of politicians politicking and managers managing was only getting louder as the congratulatory beverages flowed, and she wanted to get back to her console and get some work done.
Her musings were interrupted when the hero of the hour slipped into the chair beside her and gave her a hopeful smile. “Hi,” he said. “My name is Mark.”
She bit back a smile, thinking of the pictures she’d sent round the world. “Everyone knows that, Watney,” she said. “You’re going to need a new line.”