Chapter 1
On the Shores of a Dead Lake
Stand at the rim of a vast, arid crater on Mars. The sky is pale butterscotch color, tinted by the fine dust. The air is thin enough it wouldn't fill a balloon back home, and cold enough that your breath, if you ever did take the helmet off, would freeze before it had escaped your lips. The ground beneath your feet is a mosaic of rocks and toasted sediments in rusty hues — reds, browns, tans, and the occasional blue-gray streak where minerals are visible through.
And look down into the basin before you: land that, millions of years ago, was covered with water. A lake, mile wide, fed by coiling streams. Imagine ripples on its surface, waves breaking against deltas, silt carried downstream from distant highlands, soft depositing onto the lake bed. Quiet now, entirely dead to human senses. But imagine those sediments — those silent deposits of mudstone and clay — hold the whispers of a lost biology? Imagine those rocks are diaries, detailing the short life of Martian life?
That question has bedeviled scientists for generations. And in 2025, NASA's Perseverance rover may have nudged us closer to a solution than ever before.
The cosmos is immense, yet in the pursuit of life, Mars has long had a unique appeal. In part its proximity — only 34 million miles away at its closest, effectively our universe's next-door neighbor. Venus is closer, but its infernal atmosphere makes it a less attractive option. Jupiter's and Saturn's ice moons, like Europa and Enceladus, may hide oceans of promise, but are tens of times farther away and harder to reach. Mars is just annoying enough to tantalize, but close enough to be probed and, eventually, visited by humans.
But aside from that, Mars also has a history of its own similar to our own. Billions of years ago, the Red Planet was warmer and wetter. Rivers carved valleys through its crust. Deltas stretched their fingers into basins. Minerals precipitated out of standing water. All planetary scientists agree now: Mars was once habitable, at least in the sense of possessing the right conditions — liquid water, sources of energy, and an array of chemical building blocks. Whether or not it was inhabited is still the billion-dollar question.
That makes Mars a kind of mirror. By studying it, we’re not only searching for life there, but also trying to understand the fragility and resilience of life here on Earth. Why did Earth flourish with ecosystems and complexity, while Mars seems to have withered into a desert world? The answer, locked in its rocks, might help us grasp how rare — or how common — life truly is.
The yearning for Life on Mars
This fascination is not new. In the late 19th century, astronomer Percival Lowell popularized the idea of Martian “canals” — dark streaks seen through telescopes, which he imagined as aqueducts built by a dying civilization to channel water from the poles. We know now that these canals were illusions, artifacts of human perception. But the cultural spell stuck: Mars became the stage for alien civilizations in novels, radio dramas, and eventually Hollywood films.
Even while science replaced fantasy, the allure of life persisted. In 1976, NASA Viking landers performed the first-ever experiments to detect life directly on the Martian surface. The results were frustratingly ambiguous. One test indicated chemical activity in harmony with microbes, but others showed no hint of organic molecules. Years of scientific grappling with those results kept them from being termed either proof or disproof. Viking also instilled something humble in us: discovering life is extremely challenging, especially if it might be weak, ancient, or simply locked in chemical form.
Every mission since then has contributed new fragments of the puzzle. Spirit and Opportunity rovers discovered minerals formed by water. The Curiosity rover, which landed in Gale Crater in 2012, found complex organic molecules locked in rocks and evidence of an ancient lake system that could have been habitable. Orbiters photographed dried riverbeds and mineral deposits that could have formed only in still water. Each discovery fueled hope, but always with a caveat: habitability is not the same as habitation.
What Constitutes a Biosignature?
In order to comprehend Perseverance's 2025 discovery, we need to pause and define a key term: the biosignature.
A biosignature is any substance, feature, or pattern that is potentially the work of life. Here on Earth, biosignatures are everywhere: the oxygen in the air, the fossilized shells embedded in limestone, the microbial mats that entrap sediments into stromatolite domes. But biosignatures are not always obvious, and a lot of them are mimicked by non-biological processes. Precipitating minerals can occur in strange fashions just due to chemistry. Geologic processes can produce organic molecules in addition to biology.
So scientists are guarded. They differentiate between possible biosignatures and confirmed biosignatures. The leap from the former to the latter requires extraordinary evidence — several, unconnected lines of information that lead to biology as the only possible answer. That is why NASA officials are so guarded, even as front pages scream "Life on Mars?" The truth is more nuanced, but no less thrilling: Perseverance found a possible biosignature. That alone is historic.
Welcome to Jezero Crater: A Geological Time Capsule
Mars, as a book, would have one of its most worn chapters in the guise of Jezero Crater. Jezero is a 45-kilometer-wide basin near the western edge of Isidis Planitia, a vast impact basin. A river thousands of years ago cut through the highlands and entered Jezero, building a fan-shaped delta. The sediment that accumulated in that delta is now outcropping, piled like pages of a book.
Scientists selected Jezero as the Perseverance landing site because it is a natural time capsule. Lakebeds are biosignature master preservers: minuscule sediments fall softly and blanket and protect any organic material they catch. On our planet, the earliest evidence of life — tiny microbial fossils — is found preserved in ancient river and lake deposits. Scientists were hoping that Jezero would seal similar evidence away in time.
When it arrived in Jezero in February 2021, it embarked to investigate the crater floor, then rise into delta deposits. It drilled cores in the process, inserted them into titanium tubes, and sampled the rocks with its instrument set. One of them, sourced from a rock called Cheyava Falls in July 2024, now constitutes the heart of an awe-inspiring science story.
The Patience of Exploration
Scientific discovery on Mars isn't with a bang of "Eureka!" It is incrementally, laboriously, occasionally years after the first data have been collected. Consider the example of Perseverance. The rover is about as large as an SUV, but it drives more gingerly than a tortoise. Inch by inch, day by day, it crawls forward, scans the land, drills slowly and deliberately, and stores away its samples whole like treasures.
Every step must be pre-programmed by engineers on Earth, who wait tens of minutes patiently for signals to travel across interplanetary space. The rock core now famous — Sapphire Canyon — was drilled in July 2024. It sat on the storage system on board Perseverance more than a year, sealed, in waiting. It wasn't until the rover released its instruments to sample the borehole in finer detail that the stunning patterns were evident. Nevertheless, the data had to be transmitted down to Earth, decoded by groups of geologists and chemists, validated, validated once more, and peer-reviewed.
By the time NASA revealed in September 2025, the finding had already endured a rain of criticism. This patience belongs to planetary science culture. On Earth, a geologist can go into the field, hammer out a sample, and in a lab that same day. On Mars, it takes months for each step, and the best tools — the electron microscopes, the ultraprecise spectrometers — are out of reach until the samples get back home. What Perseverance can do is astounding: it can detect organics, map out minerals, and interpret the rock textures at microscopic scales.
Still, it's only an appetizer for the deep explorations ahead on Earth.
Mars as a Detective Story
To understand why this matters, picture Mars as a cold case detective novel. The offense: did life ever exist on this planet? The clues: wreckage strewn across barren terrain, half-destroyed by the passing of time. Suspects: chemical reactions that could mimic life, mudstone layers harboring secrets, minerals hinting at water.
Perseverance is the detective. Its spectrometers are the chemistry test kits. Its cameras are the magnifying glass. Each rock it looks at is a witness, grouchy and tired, its testimony inscribed in patterns and minerals. The rover can't ask questions; it can only take clues, assemble them, and ship them back to be debated by human detectives.
This Sapphire Canyon example from Cheyava Falls is just such a crucial witness. Its testimony is complicated. On the one hand, it displays characteristics — organic chemistry, mineral associations, spatial arrangement — which on our planet are strongly suggestive of biological processes. On the other, each characteristic may plausibly be produced by non-biological chemistry. The detective needs to weigh chances, subject alternative hypotheses to test, and not be misled by false indicators.
The Human Side of the Quest
Behind every rover command, every graph, and every press release are people. Scientists like Joel Hurowitz of Stony Brook University,...