You walk out of the control room and back onto the creaking catwalk. Below, the crew has turned on industrial fans to emulate the intense atmosphere on Mars. The strong artificial breeze is kicking up unmistakable scents: cilantro, cumin, pico de gallo. Maybe even a subtle dash of chipotle seasoning. Whatever it is, it is immaculate.
It is just past noon. You realize with astonishment that the director must have just come back from his lunch break. Judging from the heady scents, he dined at the taqueria. That means you couldn’t be far. About twenty feet below where you are standing, you see the unmistakable glint of burrito foil in a trash can. It is hard to tell from this great height, but it looks like it might have some food left in it. Your legs begin to shake as you realize that you are closer to the Kingdom than ever before.