"Is it going to be tomorrow? They said tomorrow, didn't they? The scientists. They said it was going to be tomorrow."
"No, Rocky, you dummy. How many times do we have to tell you? It's the day after tomorrow. They've been saying that for a year. Why can't you keep anything in that extra large head of yours?"
The words, and the tittering laughter that followed, echoed up to where Summer had wedged herself between the maintenance platform and the struts that held the powerful grow lights. She looked down to see them through the lush branches of the fruit trees below her, or at least, the tops of their heads. Bill and his cronies, Sasha, Alice, and poor dumb Rocky. They were so loud, she hated it when they came into the Garden Room. She imagined their toxic laughter poisoning the entire food source.
"Where is she, the sneaky little bitch?" That was Alice, with her high-pitched, nasal voice.
"She's probably off getting dirty with that creep, Jesse." Sasha, her voice raspy and low.
A metal clang rang out, and an echoing noise of frustration. Probably Bill, kicking a metal table leg with his work boot.
"No!" Bill's voice boomed in the large domed space. "She is mine. That idiot janitor had better keep his fucking hands off of her."
"Like he'd even know what to do with her." Alice again, followed by the tittering laughter of both the girls, and Rocky's slow "huh huh huh" just a few seconds too late.
Their voices grew distant, their footsteps fading as they moved away to search for Summer elsewhere. She sighed. She should go back to her apartment, her shift was over hours ago.
When she had been assigned a job as a Garden Room tech two years ago, at age eighteen, she had felt immense relief. Working in the gardens felt like her last refuge, the only place in all the domes where she still felt Earth's influence. Here things grew organically, and sometimes ran riot. The farmers' efforts to keep things orderly were only semi-successful. She breathed deeply the scent of the soil, the damp greenness of growing things: fruits, vegetable, nuts and grains. The Garden Room smelled like Earth, and it was a welcome respite from the cold, plastic and steel efficiency that made life on Venus possible. The explosion of colors, the reds, yellows, purples, even the greens and browns felt like real life compared to the alien jungle outside. In daylight it was a colorless tangle of thick vines and vegetation, with never enough sun to give it a hue.
Lightning flashed and Summer followed its forking branches through the glass panels of the dome. She watched it almost every night, trying to learn to love its beauty. The bright branches of electricity that streaked across the black sky. The distant and broad flashes of light, like a strobe, that illuminated the layers of clouds, shades of gray against black, layers that billowed back and back, filling the atmosphere as far as the eye could see. It was the same kind of lightning she remembered from her life on Earth, except that here, on Venus, it was relentless and never-ending. A constant in the night sky as well as during the day. Just like the rain.
"God, I fucking hate the rain," Summer whispered to herself.
It was easier to ignore the rain at night, when she came to watch the lightning. She could concentrate on the patterns of bright light against the dark clouds, watch as the storms beat against black twisting vines and thick, strangely shaped trees.
But during the long hours of the day, the rain tormented her as she worked. The Garden Room was it's own immense dome, one of the largest in the complex of glass domes and underground structures that sheltered human life on Venus. In gray daylight, the endless pattering drops, the rivulets that ran down the thick glass of the Garden Room dome pressed on her like a hanging weight.
.
The battering tattoo of rain was a constant no matter what she did. Working, eating, sleeping, it was a drumming that followed her, even into her dreams, until she imagined the sound was trying to get inside her, to make her heartbeat match its own rhythm, to own her.
"Two days. Just hold on for two more days," Summer told herself. They had predicted it. They were sure. The scientists, her father, they had all but promised.
In two days the sun would come out for two hours. She was going to go outside for the first time in five years, since she had arrived on this nightmare of a planet. And nothing was going to stop her.
****
"Whoo-hoo! I have arrived! Make way for the birthday boy!" Bill's voice was louder than all the others in the crowded cafeteria, as usual.
Summer hunched over her dinner of leafy greens and dwarf fruit salad, in an attempt to make herself invisible. But she could envision how brightly her blonde locks stood out amidst a sea of dark hair, and she knew it was impossible. If Bill wanted to notice her, he would.
Several trays clattered on the long metal lunch table, making her jump. She tried to slide down in the opposite direction, but someone slid in next to her.
"Summer! Don't you want to wish me a happy birthday?" Bill smirked from across the table, so of course it was the minions, Alice and Sasha, squished in on either side of her, trapping her.
"Happy birthday," she mumbled into the remnants of her salad.
"I'm twenty-one today, you know what that means, don't-cha, Earth girl?" Bill pulled a rectangular, transparent key card from the front breast pocket of his coveralls and tapped it on the table.
Summer knew. Bill had a Key card and code, which meant he could override the lock of any room (with the exception of the residences) for as long as he was inside it. When he used his Key to lock a door, only his Key could unlock it.
Summer looked up into Bill's wide, pale face. He kept his hair cut close, like the military men of Earth. His eyes were so dark all she saw was pupil. He was predatory and mean, and for some reason she didn't understand, he couldn't leave her alone.
"I'm going to enjoy spending some private time with you. We should get to know each other better. A lot better." Bill's laughter had a sharp edge to it. He flicked his tongue at her in an obscene gesture.
Summer's stomach clenched. Twenty-one year olds with Key cards were a custom in the domes of Venus. Space was limited, privacy was at a premium. All residents lived with a parent or an adult roommate, until they found a spouse, at which time they were given their own living space. When a resident turned twenty one, they received a Key, and could use it to ask anyone over the age of consent, and still single, to spend time with them in any room, behind a locked door, whenever they wanted. It was a decades old tradition, revered throughout the Domes.
"I could say no." The words hung there for a long moment, like a bad odor, and Summer wished she could cram them back into her stupid mouth. Why was she antagonizing him?
Bill's laughter choked off. He leaned across the table towards her, his eyes narrowed, angry red blotches over his cheekbones.
"Listen, freak. You want to break custom and say no to me? The Commander's son? Try it. I hope your dad doesn't care too much about his position in the weather labs."
Summer lowered her head again, silent.
"So ..." Bill drawled. "I've got some time right now, Earth girl. What's say you and me break in this Key of mine?"
Summer balked, but Alice grabbed her arm with a tight grip. The others at her table were either indifferent or amused. She'd find no help there. Her glance swept the large room, with its stainless steel appliances and rows of metal tables filled with diners. Everywhere she looked was cold efficiency. She'd never felt so friendless.
She sensed a presence behind her.
"There you are, Summer. Garden supervisor is looking for you. You'd better go. Now."
Jesse.
She turned and looked up at him over her shoulder but he was trading hard stares with Bill.
"Bullshit," Bill sneered. "You're just trying to keep your little girlfriend here from some fun with an actual man."
Jesse shrugged. "All I know is what the boss lady told me. Sounded pretty serious. You wouldn't want to interfere in any way with the Commander's first Sun Day, would you, Bill?"
Bill frowned, considering. He thrust the Key into his pocket and pushed back roughly from the table.
