"One hundred and twenty-six, as of last month. They tried to push a bill through Congress back on Earth a year ago to provide for a couple dozen more, but oh no, you know how that is. They'd rather a few men went crazy with the rain."
They started south.
The lieutenant and Simmons and the third man, Pickard, walked in the rain, in the rain that fell heavily and lightly, heavily and lightly; in the rain that poured and hammered and did not stop falling upon the land and the sea and the walking people.
Simmons saw it first. "There it is!"
"There's what?"
"The Sun Dome!"
The lieutenant blinked the water from his eyes and raised his hands to ward off the stinging blows of the rain.
At a distance there was a yellow glow on the edge of the jungle, by the sea. It was, indeed, the Sun Dome.
The men smiled at each other.
"Looks like you were right, Lieutenant."
"Luck."
"Brother, that puts muscle in me, just seeing it. Come on! Last one there's a son-of-a-bitch!" Simmons began to trot. The others automatically fell in with this, gasping, tired, but keeping pace.
"A big pot of coffee for me," panted Simmons, smiling. "And a pan of cinnamon buns, by God! And just lie there and let the old sun hit you. The guy that invented the Sun Domes, he should have got a medal!"
They ran faster. The yellow glow grew brighter.
"Guess a lot of men went crazy before they figured out the cure. Think it'd be obvious! Right off."Simmons panted the words in cadence to his running. "Rain, rain! Years ago. Found a friend. Of mine. Out in the jungle. Wandering around. In the rain. Saying over and over, 'Don't know enough, to come in, outta the rain. Don't know enough, to come in, outta the rain. Don't know enough--' On and on. Like that.
Poor crazy bastard."
"Save your breath!"
They ran.
They all laughed. They reached the door of the Sun Dome, laughing.
Simmons yanked the door wide. "Hey!" he yelled. "Bring on the coffee and buns!"
There was no reply.
They stepped through the door.
The Sun Dome was empty and dark. There was no synthetic yellow sun floating in a high gaseous whisper at the center of the blue ceiling. There was no food waiting. It was cold as a vault. And through a thousand holes which had been newly punctured in the ceiling water streamed, the rain fell down, soaking into the thick rugs and the heavy modern furniture and splashing on the glass tables. The jungle was growing up like a moss in the room, on top of the bookcases and the divans. The rain slashed through the holes and fell upon the three men's faces.
Pickard began to laugh quietly.
"Shut up, Pickard!"
"Ye gods, look what's here for us--no food, no sun, nothing. The Venusians--they did it! Of course!"
Simmons nodded, with the rain funneling down on his face. The water ran in his silvered hair and on his white eyebrows. "Every once in a while the Venusians come up out of the sea and attack a Sun Dome. They know if they ruin the Sun Domes they can ruin us."
"But aren't the Sun Domes protected with guns?"
"Sure." Simmons stepped aside to a place that was relatively dry. "But it's been five years since the Venusians tried anything. Defense relaxes. They caught this Dome unaware."
"Where are the bodies?"