The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: The air's thick with the smell of fuel and smoke as massive, abandoned rockets litter a barren, dusty launchpad, stretching out into the distance under the blinding sun. Uh, fuel pumps and pipes somehow still hissing, releasing puffs of steam into the scorching air, even though the launchpad looks abandoned for years. Like, a giant, old-fashioned scoreboard – the kind they used to have in baseball stadiums – towers above the rockets, displaying an endless stream of tweets from the official NASA account in blocky, flicker-free letters. The sky above is an electric blue, not a cloud in sight.