After having breakfast at the employee lounge, I didn't waste any time running back up to my room, switching out again from my casual attire to red swim trunks and a T-shirt. I was eager to drop by one of my favorite places to work in, let alone casually be inside; The Glass Tornado.
When the monorail zoomed out of the tunnel and out into the summertime dome, I actually flinched at the synthetic sunshine pouring in through the windows, overlooking a sandy beach against a wavy ocean with a bright blue sky above, a plaza with dozens of other pools and all kinds of shops, and a tall, rocky mountain right on the back end, with colorful water slides sprouting from the top and streaming into or around the rockface.
The monorail gently skidded to a stop inside a station perched above a horde of trees, conveniently built facing the beach, as I disembarked and headed for shore. For the crapton of stuff to do around the Glass Tornado, I just thought of starting simple and unfurled my towel onto the sand, opting to just lay back and watch the clouds pass.
It was still pretty early, leaving me with plenty of space to claim. I could still see some giantesses in the very distance, including a familiar bulky green figure hunched over at the snack bar and another brown spot wading through the sand, but as things looked, I'd have plenty of time alone to just sit back at stare at the sky.
For all the times I'd worked there, it still stunned me that it was winter outside. If you'd kidnapped me, carried me to the Glass Tornado's beach, and tore the bag off my head only there, I'd easily be convinced. The clouds drifted from screen to screen at flawless angles no matter were under the dome you stood, with no tangible shape or pattern to their design, while the "sunspot" in the ceiling drifted over the landscape in real time, casting light over the land that maintained the exact feeling of standing outside.
You know, for somebody borderline megalomaniacal who had gladly sent me off into some insane schemes, it actually wasn't that hard for me to say that miss Holmes was a friggin' genius.
But they came too late for me to react when a set of footsteps stomped up behind me in the sand, the mountain-like body of its owner blocking out the light of the fake sun...
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