"Hannah?"

Sir Aloysius the Wayfarer rolled across the surface of the Moon, ignoring the dust that scraped his battered treads. He swung his head left and right, scanning the ground with his eye. His companion's tracks had been clear in the granular lunar soil, but disappeared once they reached the barren plains of rock.

"Where did you run off to, you idiot?"

He stopped rolling, and let out a stream of curses. He sometimes forgot that the lack of an atmosphere meant that his ...