Andrew G. Stanton - Dec. 23, 2025

Caleb Moreau had been on Mars for four months when he stopped at the McDonald’s in New Bern.

He wasn’t there out of nostalgia. He was there because McDonald’s was useful.

Moreau was a comparative systems analyst based out of Luna Freeport. His work was not theoretical. He didn’t publish manifestos or argue policy. Instead, he traveled. He recorded prices. He noted supply chains. He tracked how ordinary people lived when no one was trying to prove a point.

For this leg of his research, he was staying with relatives on Mars for six months, using New Bern as a base while visiting other enclaves across the planet. From there, he would continue on to Europa, several Belt habitats, and eventually back to Luna.

Earth had come first.

Earth was always first.

There, a Big Mac still cost about twenty dollars. The number had remained strangely consistent across centuries, even as the currency itself had been renamed, redenominated, and periodically reset. The price worked because it was managed to work. Volatility was smoothed. Signals were dampened. Friction was displaced rather than resolved.

On Mars, the menu board listed prices in sats.

Moreau ordered a Big Mac and recorded the figure. A few sats. Not identical to Luna. Not identical to Europa. Close enough to be comparable. Different enough to be meaningful.

The beef was cultured, grown locally in facilities that had long since stopped being interesting. On Mars, this had always been the obvious solution. Land was precious. Energy was cheap. The choice had been made generations ago, and no one revisited it unless something broke.

He sat near the window while he ate.

Outside, the city moved at an unhurried pace. The air was thin but breathable. The old domes still stood in the distance, preserved out of habit more than necessity. Children argued about dinner plans. Someone complained about a transit delay. Ordinary life, proceeding without ceremony.

This was the data that mattered.

Hyperbitcoinization had not made these places equal. Prices still varied. Cultures still diverged. Preferences still shaped outcomes. What it had done was remove distortion. When prices changed, it was because reality had changed.

Mars had become abundant — not lavish, just enough — and pleasant in the way places become when people stop waiting to leave.

Moreau finished his meal, cleared the tray, and stepped back into the afternoon. He didn’t feel the need to linger. The point had already been made.

Later, when he compiled his notes, this entry would sit alongside dozens of others: bread on Luna, protein on Europa, water credits in the Belt, transit fares on Earth.

Individually, none of them were remarkable.

Together, they formed a pattern that no policy paper ever had.

Civilizations that priced honestly endured.