Running late, I hurried into the transport station relieved I didn’t have to wait in line. The door swooshed shut behind me. After collecting all my identification data from eye and facial recognition to processing the info on my ID implant, a cool clear voice asked for my destination.

“Outpost 3.”

I hated transporting out of the domed city; I felt vulnerable in the open. As a real estate agent I was rarely asked to go outside. The agency didn’t deal with many properties outside the Dome, but the Remington property ranked the privilege. I hope this will be over quickly.

In an instant I arrived at the remote transport station. The door swooshed open. Reluctantly I stepped out into the open air environment. Direct sunlight struck my face. A breeze rustled the leaves in the trees and stirred my hair causing me to jump back startled. How can people live out in the open like this?

Normally I would have arranged transport ahead of time, but my boss assured me I would be met by the potential buyer. Now I wish I had followed my instincts and ordered my own transportation. Braving up, I took a few steps forward and studied my surroundings.

The gleaming silver transport station looked like it had just fallen from the sky, a futuristic object totally out of place alongside the crumbling road. There were crude houses nestled among the trees and even children with a dog playing outdoors exposed to the elements. Ruins of what were once majestic homes, now covered in trees, vines and shrubs, sculpted the background into a fairyland landscape.

Suddenly a hovercraft of some sort roared into view and swerved to a stop in front of me. I jumped back fearing a collision.

“Nancy Haupert, I presume?” the driver asked with a roguish grin. His eyes, blue like the open sky overhead, gleamed brightly in his suntanned face. He seemed friendly, but despite my boss’ reassurances, I didn’t feel safe.

“Robert Mattson?” I wanted to sound strong, but I came off weak.

“At your service.” The passenger door popped open for me. “It’s a nice day for a drive.”

Is it? A drive in the country is something I’ve only read about in books. Against my nature I got in.

The hovercraft took off with a low roar. So much open space was unnerving. To stabilize my focus I went into working mode. “The Remington property has a fascinating history….”

“I know the property’s history,” he interrupted. “Tell me about you. What is life like in the domed city?” Domers can transport outside the city (although most rarely do), but to preserve the clean healthy environment under the Dome, outsiders cannot transport into the city.

Now I’m all shook up. This isn’t going the way I wanted it to. A bird’s shadow flits over me. Startled, I dive to the floor.

Robert Mattson laughs merrily. “I’m sorry,” he says apologetically upon seeing my embarrassment and offers me a hand up.

Sooner than I expected we arrived at the Remington property hidden behind a massive wall. After contacting security the electronic gate clicked open. The property was breathtakingly beautiful; manicured lawn, shade trees and gardens. We pulled up to a grand sprawling two story mansion surrounded by porches and balconies lined with tall elegant white columns reaching to the roof.

Robert Mattson jumped out of the car and opened the passenger door for me.

“Thank you, Mr. Mattson.”

“Please, call me Robert.”

I want to ask him how he can afford this property (John Remington was a Domer), but the security of his financial resources has already been established by another department. My job here; have him sign the contract.

The sun slowly faded behind a film of clouds. I looked up at the sudden change in light; the movement of the clouds overhead made me dizzy. “Would you like to see the grounds?” Robert asked.

What? That should have been my line. Then I felt drops of moisture hitting me… raindrops. Frantically I tried to wipe them away.

“Looks like it’s going to rain,” Robert said noticing my discomfort. “I guess we can start indoors.” He pushed a button inside the car. The roof unfolded and moved into place. Anxious to escape from the weeping clouds, I hurried up three long wide steps to the sheltered porch as the sky continued to darken.

A matronly woman appeared at the door. “Greetings, Ms. Haupert. Please come in.” Robert was right behind me. “Mr. Mattson, it’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Martha.” We entered a large area with curving staircases leading to an upstairs balcony. Outside there was a flash of light followed by a long low rumble.

“I need to show Mr. Mattson around,” I said trying to regain my professionalism. I’ve only seen a virtual tour of the house and property, but I feel I am well prepared.

Martha laughed. “I hardly think Mr. Mattson needs showing around. He’s lived here most of his life. Would you like some refreshments?” Martha offered.

“I don’t have a lot of time,” I protested. “I will need to get back to the city soon.” Once again I wished I had arranged my own transportation.

“Nonsense,” Robert intervened. “We would love refreshments.” Robert led me into a large elegant room consumed by carved overstuffed furniture, aged decorative rugs and tapestries, paintings and sculptures. I felt I had entered through a time machine.

“You’ve lived here most of your life?” I asked stunned.

“My mother held Martha’s job when I was a child growing up.”

A wicked flash of light lit the darkened day. The loud clap of thunder that followed stopped my heart. Then the rain pounded down. Seeing my distress, Robert drew the drapes and turned on the lights. “You still haven’t told me about life in the domed city,” he said.

What can I say? How can I describe a life of order, security, purity, and push-button comfort to a wild man who braves the elements? To my relief Martha returned with a tray of refreshments in time to save me from a response.

The food and drink were excellent; the likes of which I never tasted before. Why were the Remington descendants selling the property I wondered?

“David and Angela, Mr. Remington’s son and daughter, hate it outside the Dome,” Robert offered as though he had read my mind. “People out here are pleased the estate will finally be owned by an Outsider.”

I took the opportunity to bring out the secured sale contract chip as the short-lived thunder shower faded away. Robert placed the chip in a reader and signed the sale agreement.

Mission completed I rose to leave.

“Congratulations, Mr. Mattson!” Martha cried out jubilantly.

“Yes, congratulations,” I added feebly. “And thank you for the refreshments.”

We stepped out into a drippy wet world. It was necessary to dodge a water puddle to reach the hovercraft. A flying insect buzzed by and I quickly jumped into the vehicle to escape.

We spoke little on the way back. I was grateful the roof stayed up. Before long we arrived back at the transport station. For me it was a shining beacon.

“I still owe you a tour,” Robert said helping me out of the vehicle. “Any time you are ready for it, let me know. It would be my pleasure.”

“I will,” I said with a smile and meant it, at least at the moment.

Saying goodbye, I stepped into the transport booth; the door sealed behind me. “Please spread out your arms and legs and close your eyes for the decontamination process,” the cool clear voice instructed.

Arriving at my living unit, I immediately stripped, showered and changed to rid myself of the outside world. It was with great pleasure I chose seaside vid-wall scenery, lily-of-the-valley room scent, and programmed the food replicator for my favorite meal. It was good to be home.

I never took Robert Mattson up on his invitation. From time to time over the years I’ve often wondered what might have happened if I had.