We hop in the car, zoom down the highway for twenty minutes, then turn off of the paved road. Dirt crunches under the tires of our Crosstrek, behind us a huge cloud of dust. We bounce around in our seats as Neil steers toward the pinnacles, dodging rocks poking out of the ground. Twenty more minutes pass. I look down at my hands, suddenly in large white gloves, my body in a loose white suit, fans whirring, the weight of a helmet on my head, gold visor tinting the view. I hear a voice through some static babble in my ear. We are about to land on another planet.