Find out what happens when a Mars Expedition unwittingly recruits a psychopath among its crew on a one-way trip to the red planet. Emil Lance loosened the tight tie around his neck. He knew that he was about to feed himself to a pack of hungry wolves. A room full of terrified, angry, and grieving family members awaited him. Instead of turning away, instead of letting someone else handle it like any sane man would, he let his conscience get the better of him. He went to offer his condolences and help this family move forward.

However futile that idea might have been. Emil took the stage, stepping behind the podium that separated him from the rest of the room. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Short and sweet. That's what he had told himself that he would do. He wouldn't be able to get through it otherwise. He could see people watching him anxiously-over a hundred pairs of eyes staring at him as he squinted into the bright light from above. No one really understood how hot it got under those things, and under pressure, until they were in the situation themselves. Each person was looking at him with something dangerously close to hope in his eyes. It sickened him. He had suggested when the program sent out the emails informing the mass group of people about the new information that it explicitly state there had been no survivors. They hadn't heeded his advice. And now, he was stuck dealing with the consequences, putting these people through more heartache.