#tropetron

The moon from Museum Square last Autumn.

I didn’t really see much of the night sky these days, given that I’m usually underground by nightfall. Part of the reason why living in the Catacombs is so disconcerting the first few nights is how you never seem to see the night sky any more. Some people try to comfort themselves with the thought that besides maybe a light show, we’re not missing much; after all, this is a large urban area with intense nighttime light pollution. 

When I was young, I would spend the nights just staring at the moon with my big brother. It seems to sparkle at some nights.  The moon had this weird metallic sheen on its surface, not like how we’d expect bare rock to look, whenever it was at its brightest. It was when it was dim that it looked the most beautiful.

Even at its faintest, drowned out by the city’s harsh lights, the moon was still visible, sparkling like a jewel in the dark night sky.

Why does it sparkle? I’ve asked a lot of people that question and even the science books fail to give anything remotely adequate. All I’ve gotten from years of research is that the moon (excuse me, Tropetron) is made of rock. But rock isn’t supposed to sparkle. Not unless something reflective and sparkly was put on top of it.

The Mapotherians seem to be the only people who have any explanation: the moon is populated. As outlandish as the moon-people theory sounds, they’ve been right about a lot of things. They do say that planets with cities are said to sparkle at night, but I digress.

One of the things my brother and I could count on was that, every night, the moon would still there. It would be bright and slowly darken, but when it darkens, it sparkles. It’s as if, somehow, it is when things are at their darkest when things start to shine.

It was a moon that sparkles.

Tropetron was the shining gem in the night sky. In many cultures, the planet’s moon reminded them of the legendary Luna, the moon of the near mythic homeland of the cultures that preceeded the Levelers. Tropetron was slightly bigger, though, and its tidal forces have a much more profound effect on the planet’s biota and the people who live there.

Its moniker, the sparkling moon, referred to the faint yet noticable band of scintillating light in what would be its new moon phase. Rather than disappearing from the night sky, the moon becomes a coruscating jewelled ring every month.