Throughout "The Sands of Ares," I found myself frequently exhaling soft sighs, pondering the thought: What if this were normal? Not the terrifying life-or-death situations that serve as the backbone of the episode, but rather, how the characters navigate these situations. What if NASA, Roscosmos, and Helios had collaborated more and competed less from the very beginning? What if it was commonplace for men to seek care when they needed it, instead of self-medicating in gloomy silence until they caused a deadly workplace incident? What if we could all agree that the cost of human life and well-being is too high to view all scientific progress as a series of competitions to be won or lost?
I know, I know, it's a fanciful dream, not worth getting too attached to, because who would go for it, in any timeline? But hear me out: a functional model for all of these dreams already exists, right within these 60 minutes. Once the Earth-based space agencies learn of the Catastrophe on Gagarin Ridge (by an incredible coincidence, also the title of my forthcoming album), they immediately merge their engineering teams to plan a search-and-rescue mission. Helios and Roscosmos decamp to JSC so they can put all their pointy little genius heads together on this.
If collaboration with an adversary were the norm, Margo's years of assisting (okay, spying for) the Soviets could be the norm too. Reciprocal, aboveboard arrangements like that wouldn't be treason. If she led the shift to such a model, Margo might be considered a visionary, and Aleida's one-woman investigation into who shared previous designs wouldn't have to happen at all. Aleida knows deep in her bones that it has to be Margo, and keeps trying to prove herself wrong, going so far as to ask her ex-husband to review her work, and even accusing Margo's devoted executive assistant of being the mole. A more collaborative international model could reduce mistrust, improve spacecraft design and safety, and give everyone involved more opportunities to apply their expertise creatively. Just putting it out there as an option for season four!
The Earthbound folks are a few steps behind their colleagues up on Mars, who have been lending each other a hand, with or without explicit permission, for several episodes now. As the remnants of the Helios and Roscosmos team members straggle back to their surviving HAB and are joined by their intrepid NASA colleagues, everyone's relief at seeing so many of their sometimes-adversaries alive is palpable. Even the frosty Cosmonaut Kuznetsov shows a bit of tenderness, greeting Dani with...what is that? Not just professional cordiality, but honest-to-Lenin sincere warmth? We're going to need a vibe check up at the HAB, friends! Clearly, anything is possible!
As the space explorers experience one terrifying emergency after another, they draw closer together. We see these developments in both literal, obvious terms—the cosmonauts have to bunk with the astronauts because they destroyed their ship attempting to beat the competition to the Martian surface—and in slightly more poetic ones, such as Ed bringing high-quality MREs from Helios as a hostess gift to the Happy Valley crew and Kelly's romance with Alexei.
It's nice to see the full trio of teams reunited and working together without reaching "Thanksgiving with your racist uncle"–level squabbling. I don't think it's just relief that so many of the three teams have survived and regrouped. Perhaps it's making it through these life-threatening crucibles as a routine part of their lives that's tempered them all? In an episode so loaded with grief and worry, it's emotionally restorative to see something nice and reassuring, even when what's reassuring is the gentle humanity of taking a beat to grieve the deaths of Nick Corrado and Isabel Castillo.
Back on Earth, the brain trust huddled in one of JSC's spacious conference rooms, showcasing one of For All Mankind's signature feats of competence. They sifted through the facts, options, and mathematical equations until Dev suggested rescuing Danny and Ed from below rather than above. Alexei and Kelly's successful search for the HAB had located their rescue signal, buried beneath 20 meters of landslide debris. Any attempt to rescue them from above would undoubtedly fail before their oxygen and water supplies ran out. A wildly improbable attempt to use explosives to create a hole that would allow the HAB to fall just a few meters down into the lava tube below was a risky proposition, but a likely failure was still preferable to a definite one. They might as well try, right?
As an added bonus, this strategy would require Rolan and Will to work closely together again. Dani's pep talk to them as they got the band back together was both apt and punchy: Set aside your interpersonal nonsense and do the work. It worked, as we next saw the self-proclaimed Odd Couple contentedly bickering over the precise placement of the explosives that would either save or kill their colleagues (and potentially themselves).
Speaking of odd couples, way down in the HAB, Danny and Ed were alive. Against all odds, the air lock they were in hadn't sustained any leak-causing damage, so their oxygen supply was intact. It would only last them six hours, but that was better than anything less than six hours: Any search and rescue team that existed would have a fighting chance at finding and rescuing them rather than retrieving their bodies. Danny was physically unharmed and easily able to tend to Ed, who had shrapnel causing all kinds of internal bleeding in his abdomen.
Their cramped quarters and dwindling oxygen supply weighed more and more heavily upon them as the hours ticked by, and their now-typical dynamic reasserted itself. Danny seethed with the two-decade jumble of emotions he couldn't disentangle, while Ed wondered why all his fatherly love and guidance wasn't enough for this kid. One thing they could agree on was how disgusted each was with the other, and because they couldn't strike a wobbly détente and retreat to their respective corners to cool off, a near-volcanic argument and airing of unpleasant home truths erupted between them. This time everything was on the table: Danny's dependency on downers and uppers; Ed's long-standing habit of self-injecting anabolic steroids; the importance (or foolishness) of maintaining a hopeful attitude even in dire circumstances; and Shane.
Memories of Shane had hung over For All Mankind since his death in season one. His long-hidden Popeye toy seemed to give his blessing to Kelly's dream of attending the U.S. Naval Academy last season. His memory was back again, but this time as more of a specter than a guardian angel. As I noted last week, we've been watching season three unfold as a critique of Tracy and Gordo's heroic self-sacrifice, and now Danny's childhood memories of Shane came tumbling out of him to join that revisionist cause. His heart's reservoir couldn't contain his guilt, grief, and rage any longer.
From Danny's perspective, it was his fault Shane was dead. He let Shane take the blame every time they got up to no good as kids, and if Danny had taken responsibility for any of it, Karen wouldn't have grounded Shane, and Shane wouldn't have died. He'd been hanging onto that guilt for over 20 years now, having devoted himself to doing all that he imagined Shane would have done had he lived. The end result was that Danny didn't really know himself at all.
It's a difficult pill for Ed to swallow, but Danny's outburst hits a tender nerve, hinting that he might not be entirely wrong. Ed, with self-awareness, admits deep regret for being a poor father to Shane and worries that he might be on his deathbed, having messed things up with Kelly by being just as dismissive of her as he had been of Shane. He's a product of his time and place, and has traveled a long road professionally by being a no-nonsense, black-and-white man's man. However, we've also seen Ed cherish his more emotionally healthy relationship with Kelly; that's just as genuine as his profound failures as a father to Shane.
True change may be attainable, but before we can dwell on that, Danny must act swiftly to stop the flow of blood from Ed's reopened wounds. There's something particularly poignant about how their conflict is punctuated by Danny's expert and relentless efforts to keep Ed alive. As they finally have the big fight they've been heading toward all season, even amidst all the anger, pain, and concern, there's never any doubt that Danny will keep Ed alive and conscious for as long as possible.
*For All Mankind* adores narrative symmetry and echoes, and continues to provide a veritable feast of both in this episode's final act. As Ed and Danny let their frustrations hang out on Mars, back on Earth, Jimmy confronts Karen about sleeping with Danny. The Stevens sons are aware of their own shortcomings, and they're not going to let the Baldwin parents off the hook for theirs. In an echo of frantic family-member vigils from past seasons, this time Karen shows up to make dinner and sit with Amber and Jimmy as they wait for news. She probably needs their company as much as they need hers, and it's a testament to her skilled veteran status that Ed's and Kelly's names barely come up while she's there. Her own grief and cares are present, but her main objective is to be a supportive rock for her junior colleagues.
In the end, the rescue mission is a success, and flight surgeon Mayakovsky removes the shrapnel threatening Ed's life. As Ed regains consciousness, Dani welcomes him back and delivers the sad news that his crew members Castillo and Corrado have died, along with Alexei. It's unclear why Mayakovsky didn't prioritize some neurological triage before sending Alexei out in the rover with Kelly to find Ed and Danny, but his bad headache eventually revealed itself as a fatal subdural hematoma. Ed manages to beckon his daughter over for some fatherly comfort as she howls out her grief, and as Kuznetsov and Mayakovsky confer quietly about the pregnancy Kelly isn't aware she's carrying.
