Kevin was sweltering in his underwear. His ass was pressed against the rough wood of the pier at Lunar Lake, where he decided to take a swim after he got home from work.

“God the night is fucking bleak,” he muttered as he hopped into the lake, sinking deep before kicking himself to the surface. The water did nothing to cool him—it was warm from the moonlight, and when his head pierced back up through the surface, his face felt the brunt of the moon’s rays.

‘At least I got the lake to myself,’ Kevin thought. He recalled the days when, as a child, he would go to the local swimming hole on weekends. He’d be freezing in his trunks at high noon, but he would attack the water so ferociously that he eventually radiated his own warmth.

But that was then, when he still had the luxury of time and energy. Now, floating in that placid lake, he felt like a boiled potato floating in the water. ‘Pretty sure that’s what I look like too.’

He tried to do laps to the middle of the lake and back every so often, but if he went too long, he began to feel uncomfortably warm. And that’s how he ended up a potato most nights. He would lie on his back, bathing in the burning light of the moon, distended belly poking out of the dark water like he was a pregnant woman about to have a water birth.

Kevin missed day swimming terribly, but with his ten-hour shifts and a child to raise, he could never find the time to drive seventy minutes to the nearest public pool.

Kevin looked up at the sky. The stars were tiny pinpoints he could barely see, even in the depths of this place far from the bright lights of skyscrapers and the blinding headlights of cars. The intense rays of the moon washed everything out, coloring the world a gentle grey every night.

Earlier that day, it had been cold and bright. The rays of the sun had cooled Kevin’s skin as he walked from the bus stop to his office in the city. Even there, in that concrete labyrinth, the world was brimming with color, illuminated by the tremendous glowing marble in the sky.

Kevin’s short walk beneath the forgiving solar light was the only respite he got between the angry heat of the night and the unavoidable stress of work, both of which pushed him further and further into a growing state of exhaustion that never seemed to dissipate.

The evening heat drove him and his wife to sleep in separate beds, so any comfort they may have offered each other at night was often short-lived. ‘We should go on vacation,’ Kevin mused, dragging his hands through the water listlessly. ‘Somewhere subterra.’

The subterra communities lived in perpetual night, but one that was always cool and safe from the light of both the moon and the sun. Kevin had heard about places like Santa Ilt and Tmanoot his entire life. The former was known by most as the Paris of the subterranean; the latter had more of a New York vibe, but artsier, grittier, and more riddled with crime.

It was almost impossible to get subterra visas because they were in coveted locations built entirely by man’s manual efforts. Tourists were few, and illegal immigrants countless.

Still, Kevin dreamt of earning enough visa points to spend a month there at the very least. Cost of living was much higher underground and he knew he'd never find a job that paid enough to make rent. There wasn't much demand for workers in the lunar energy industry underground.

Santa Ilt and Tmanoot were the largest importers of lunar power from aboveground markets, and they had no intention of encouraging local start-ups because that would be even costlier than importing their energy supply. Lunar panels above ground would have to be hooked up to generators below ground, requiring years of planning and excavation. Labor was cheaper on the surface, so development and construction was quicker and more feasible, as evidenced by the success of the company Kevin had been working for for over 12 years.

Celestial Inc. was an industry leader, and it was their flashy employment campaign that had reeled Kevin in when he was still a fresh graduate. His diploma still wet with signature ink, he'd marched through Celestial's gleaming pearl-white doors and never turned back.