The rusted metal wheel squealed as soon as he laid his hand on it, sending a familiar shiver down his spine. Cold, that's all he had been feeling for the three days he had been away, so much so that the buzzing of the electric generator sounded more like a softly crackling fireplace to his ear. The heavy steel door closing behind him echoed as his eyes got accustomed to seeing color and shade again. Three days alone on that white barren would have put even the most resilient of men under unfathomable physical and mental stress. But not him. He had been on the station for two years now and distress never even sprouted as a thought in his mind. The next step forward, that's all he could ever think of.

They had told him it was an incredible opportunity, the opportunity of a lifetime to be precise, and he had been quick to accept it. Not because of the benefits, both financial and social, that it offered but rather for the personal satisfaction of fulfilling his lifelong craving. He suffered from the peculiar illness of our times: he wanted to understand his place in what he had often seen as the rumbling mess of alienating emotions and singular behaviors people called "world". For an odd reason that he himself could not fully comprehend at the time, he felt that getting to the most remote and secluded place would be a befitting way to find his own.

The pneumatic door of the airlock whirred while the familiar high-pitched voice of the automatic operator buzzed, announcing the now stabilized pressure and subsequently granting access to whomever had stepped in. As he planted his foot on the firm metal floor, the characteristic sound resonated in the mostly empty lobby, soon to be echoed by the fizzling of the bulbous lamps that promptly illuminated the room. The place was of sizeable proportions, fully equipped with comfy but worn-out sofas and steel chairs surrounding the metal desks that lined up across the northern and western walls. Those were working stations, covered with research equipment and CRT monitors. On the opposite side was a large semi oval counter lined with high metal stools whose stability seemed questionable. The whole room suggested both living quarters and working area where scientists could openly exchange and relax, as the two coffee machines that sat in the corners opposite to the entrance implied. This place was clearly meant to be the home of at least a dozen men, the elite, not only to be praised for their accomplishments but for their resilience to these harsh conditions. You could almost sense the benevolent turmoil of all these eminent minds working in unison.

Yet, he sat alone.