Modern spacesuits aren’t nearly as bulky as those of the bygone Apollo and Shuttle eras, but they’re still no joy to don. Particularly the kind you’ve jammed your lanky, six-foot frame into. There are much better ones out there, everybody knows it. But in the interest of savings, this is basically the sort you’d find in a Dollar Store bargain bin. If Dollar Store sold spacesuits, that is.

It occurs to you that if the mega-rich CEO of NextRock Incorporated had ever truly intended to live in his own colony, this process would be much easier. A lot of things would.

After half an hour of seal checks, air scrubber tests, and glitchy comms troubleshooting, you, Bill Brewster, are ready to visit the surface of Mars. Or at least to wait in the Rover Bay until Lonnie’s nutty ass finds his way back. When he does, you are going to shut down his little operation, and maybe let him sit in the stockade and think about it awhile.

And of course, now you need to go pee. Ain’t it always the way?

• Un-suit, go pee, then come back and go through all this hassle again.
• Ignore your bladder and exit to the Rover Bay.