Oswald's plan to jumpstart the future of humanity through an isolated Utopian Mars colony had gotten more than a bit off course. Everything had started well intentioned enough, he would gather the best and brightest of humanity and sequester them away on the Red Planet where they could start a new society unburdened by the red tape and baggage of the governments and worthless masses of humanity on Earth.
The damn genetic engineering was what did them in. Naturally, gathering the most brilliant minds together in one place would result in incredible new advances in science and technology. Oswald wasn't surprised that among these dream projects was the ability to easily modify and customize the human form like clay, reshaping the bodies of the PhDs into hauntingly beautiful specimens with all the flaws of their ages wiped away, bulging buxom bustlines that looked ridiculous inside of labcoats, supermodels' legs as thin as matchsticks, and libido to match. It might have been sustainable, if not for the aerosolized aphrodisiac released. The atmosphere of the modular prefab pods the colony was constructed of was constantly being circulated and regurgitated. The stimulant compound was too small to be caught by the colony's filtration. In short order, it got everywhere, permeating every surface and everyone.
The rational, reasonable teams of scientists, engineers, designers, and pioneers, the utmost pinnacle of human ability and their families, were helpless against the erotic charge of constant stimulation from the air they breathed every waking minute.