The Moon looks back over his shoulder and sees nothing in the darkness beyond his glow. He holds his breath until he's almost at the end of the hall.

"Going somewhere, sire?"

A sound, a foreign mixture of fright and exhilaration, bubbles out of his mouth followed by a light cough. "Meteorite. What a pleasant surprise," he says as she rounds the corner.

She places her palm flat against the iron walls. "Did you know, sire, that these walls and I were born from the same soil?"

"Fascinating."

"As are the stories they share with me, sire." Her sharp eyes meet his. "Especially the one of your plan to escape to Earth."