Chapter 9When his ship had landed in Luna from Terra, Sartre was eighteen years of age. His mother had told him since he stopped growing when he turned seventeen, he would slowly age but on a more glacial pace than a regular human. For someone who rarely left the lab in Iceland, Luna was a challenging place. He had barely disembarked from the ship, when Jón waved at him. If his mother hadn’t handed him a picture of Jón, Anna, and his brother when they were younger, he would’ve been lost.
“Wow, you look some much like Kristjan,” Jón said in a manner so matter of fact that Sartre didn’t know what to say.
Anna, who was much shorter, appeared a half step behind him to say ‘hello’ as well. “He does look like Kristjan.”
“I just said that,” Jón had said, before breaking out in a great laugh. H
