“She Comes with the Rain” – Short Story by Mikaila Daniel

Today it will rain at exactly 8:37 A.M. The monthly weather report stated this twenty-four days ago. I sit in my car, staring at the bright blue clock, the holographic marquee reads 8:38 A.M. April 25, 462 I.R. (Imperial Republic) I look at my wrist-phone; it reads 8:38 A.M. I gaze at the crystal clear sky above me.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” I say to myself.

The weather report is given the first of every month. During this month’s forecast, my sister Veronika set off the sprinkler system when she lit my thirty-six birthday candles. The entire weather pattern for the month flashed on the screen before it went black. Usually, I don’t care much about the weather, but it has proven convenient for me since I saw the forecast. Like everything else the Republic regulates, the weather is “Precise Perfection.” 8:39. Not one, but two minutes late. There’s been a mistake. I hold my breath. My memory is impeccable, then again… so is the Republic. I blink, and suddenly a downpour erupts outside. To my surprise, the clock now reads 8:37. Cars honk at me and I finally notice the green light. I continue driving to work, ignoring the loud obscenities and middle fingers of passing drivers.

Two minutes. Not only was the rain two minutes late, but the Republic reset all the clocks. I sit in my car and stare at my phone’s clock. I watch the virtual minute hand monotonously tick-tock, synchronizing my mind to the new time. My hands shake. The Republic made a mistake. I take deep breaths. Perhaps this is a regular occurrence on the twenty-fifth of the month that I never noticed. I feel my body relax as I believe this conclusion. Someone taps loudly on my window. I turn and see Roger Ashley Cloves, my obnoxious co-worker. He’s dripping wet.

“It’s not raining out here, Amberlyn. Even though you have a girly name, you don’t have to shy away from a little water,” he smirks.

I force a smile. He always calls me “Amberlyn” believing it to be my first name. My name is Xavier Emberly, and everyone but him knows that. He can never distinguish the difference in my corrections, so I assume his thick accent inhibits him from matching up the vowel sounds the way I prefer. I follow him into Republic Base A. He engages me in elevator small-talk.

“The rain caught me by surprise,” he says. I hold my breath. “Something bothering you, Amberlyn?”

“I have the hiccups,” I quickly answer.

Great. Now I have to fake hiccups for the rest of the day. The elevator opens.

“That’s too bad,” he says while walking towards his cubicle.

I walk in the opposite direction, towards my own little box. I pass reception expecting to see Sally there with her long, periwinkle nails typing studiously on a flat keyboard. I’m used to watching her large green eyes scan back and forth across multiple screens, assigning new graduates with Republic-approved jobs. I look around, not a person in sight. I continue towards my workspace, now hearing disjointed whispering voices. I find Sally, along with a bunch of other coworkers, standing next to my office door. My ears register the phrase “wet girl,” which only peaks my interest. They all look very surprised to see me.

“Oh! Emberly,” Sally starts. “We thought you were inside.”

“What’s this about a girl?” I ask.

They all motion towards my office. “She said she had a ‘date’ with you, so we sent her in,” Frank from human resources replies.

Internally, I ask Who? I make no verbal reply to my coworkers, because that question would only raise red flags in their minds. Once I see her, I will know her business with me. I remember every conscious moment of my life. My job in the Republic is to keep track of everyone else’s lives. I know the genealogy of every living person. I am alerted when a baby is born and when someone dies. I remember—and never forget. I am the computer backup’s backup.

A date she said? I chuckle to myself. Sadly, with the face and physique of an awkward seventeen-year-old, I’ve never been very popular with women. I turn the knob and freeze at the sight of her. She’s completely soaked from head to toe. I’m surprised my coworkers didn’t at least provide a towel for her. My eyes immediately scan her face. I inwardly make notes for my memory: About 5’4”, 120 pounds, maybe 27 years old so born in 434 or 435? She has bright purple hair, recently dyed, and light brown eyes. I blink, sending the image to my brain to retrieve information on this woman. Strangely enough, she wears a bulky, mechanical wristwatch. I hear its ticks loudly in the silent room. She looks very familiar, as a matter of fact. I pass her a hand towel from underneath my desk.

“Are you Xavier Emberly?” She asks.

I nod. “You’re dripping water; are you okay?”

Her eyes widen in surprise and she mutters to herself. It’s been a minute, and I still don’t know who she is. Perhaps my search parameters are off.

She holds my wrist, “You have to come with me.”

I pull my hand back, “Umm…why?”

“Today is Reset Day.” What is she talking about? My phone beeps, and the speakers in my ears say “Unknown caller.”

I press the talk button on my wrist-phone.

“Emberly. Did anything catch you as ‘odd’ today?” I hold my tongue. “Xavier? Are you there?”

I stutter in my reply. The woman watches me intently. “I’m..um, not really,” I tell the person. “It did rain an awful lot today, didn’t it?”

“It was listed in the monthly weather report,” he replies.

“I don’t really pay attention to it,” I chuckle. The call ends.

The woman pulls out a small remote, pressing various buttons that cause my speakers to emit annoying static.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer my question. “Is there another way out of this building?”

I stand firm. “We’re not going anywhere until you tell me who you are.”

“I thought you knew everyone. You definitely know me, so I’m not obligated to tell you who I am. I’m on a tight schedule, so we’d better leave quickly.”

Her demeanor completely changes. She sends a quick glance to her watch and commands me to cover my ears. Her forcefulness shocks me, so I obey—and rightly so. An earsplitting alarm blares throughout the room. In a few seconds, it stops. The woman stares at the ceiling, and I find myself mimicking her actions.

Paul Keiburg, the floor boss, speaks over the P.A. “Please do not panic. We don’t know who set off the alarm, but we have not determined any cause of worry. We will investigate this further, but please continue on with your business.”

“That was weird,” I say. I turn and the woman climbs onto my desk and breaks a section of ceiling tile.

“Where are you going?” I point to the door. “There’s an easier way out.”

“It’s locked. Don’t touch it.” I look at her incredulously. She groans, “Trust me. We have to get out this way.”

As if under a spell, I follow her into the air vents, blindly surveying her motions. Cheerleader or gymnast? She could have borrowed the dye from a friend. I still have no clue who she is, but I trust her. My phone won’t work anymore, and the Republic-issued Emergency anklet feels heavier than usual. I hope I won’t need to use it. I’ve always felt wary about it for some odd reason. Surely the Republic will come to my aid. They certainly know who the woman is, even if I don’t. She hasn’t threatened me with violence yet, so she can’t be all bad. We occasionally pass open vents, and I can see my coworkers talking to numerous Republic police officers. I briefly consider alerting them to my location.

“They’re looking for us,” the woman says.

“They’re looking for you,” I correct. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“And I have?” She asks slyly. My mouth quickly dries.

I stammer. “Why are you running from them? If you have nothing to hide, then everything should be alright.”

“Being invisible has its perks,” she corrects. “No one cares what I know. You, on the other hand…”

She doesn’t even have to finish. This morning’s glitch repeats clearly in my mind. The Republic is known for banishing people who threaten its power. Is knowledge of this glitch heinous enough for such extreme actions? I don’t know. The thought of being thrown outside the Biosphere into an uninhabitable world makes my heart race. We reach the end of the path, and she forces the A/C grill out. She helps me out and I see we’re in the parking garage. She takes my arm and we start running.

“I have a car,” I tell her. She ignores me. She’s pretty athletic, though it could have nothing to do with her career. In order to find her in my memory, I should expand my search parameters. “Where are we going?”

“To the Edge. We have to leave before the reset.”

“What are you even talking about? What’s all this ‘Reset Day’ stuff even about?”

She pushes me into an alley, and we watch as more officers storm my work building. I hear one describe me as the “suspect-at-large” without a word about my female companion. What if I was wrong? What if the Republic is as clueless about this woman as I am? They’re either trying to not arouse citizen suspicion or they honestly don’t care about her. I’m their target. When the coast is clear, she starts talking.

“This morning, there was a glitch in the Biosphere. I was that glitch.” The rain? “The rain simulator jammed when I broke through,” she finished.

“Broke through…the Biosphere?” She nods. Great, I’m with a psycho. “Sorry to burst your bubble, miss,” I start, “but it’s impossible to survive outside the Biosphere.”

She laughs, “You can ask my neighbors if they can’t survive outside the Biosphere. We used to go back and forth all the time. I can’t believe that was only two years ago.” She doesn’t speak like she’s crazy. I catch a small glimpse of the wall before she commands me to stay hidden. Republic Garrison is heavily stationed along the Edge. Her full lips curl into a pout, and her shoulders droop.

“I know of another way out. Follow me,” she says while helping me up. I’m tired of playing along with her.

“Why are you doing this?” She doesn’t look at me. I continue, “You can’t possibly think you can break out with the Republic after us.”

“That will never stop me from trying.” We reach a forested area, and she starts clearing some brush. “I’ve tried for two years now. Forty-eight times. I’ll keep trying for as long as I live if only to save him.” She puts on clawed gloves, her pulls grow more violent, and I hear her labored breaths.

“Who?” I softly whisper. I’m walking into a field of landmines. This woman is volatile and I need to be very careful. She’s been messing with my mind this entire time; I can’t believe a word she says.

She stares at her muddy hands before looking up at me—her eyes full of tears. “My husband.”

I don’t say a word. She claws at the ground. “It has to be here!,” she screams. I slowly make my way towards her. The toe of my shoe slips, hitting something hard, but I ignore it. My movements are lengthy and hesitant. I lightly place my hands on her shoulders. She jumps a little and quickly calms when she realizes it’s me. “I can’t find it… If I don’t get out, the reset will happen and I’ll lose him again.”

“I’ll help you,” I reassure her. Everything I ever learned in Psychology comes to my aid. I feel her shoulders relax as if a large burden was removed.

“I’m so happy to hear that,” she says softly.

“I’m happy too,” I say with a small frown. I reach for the anklet, shielding my motions from her view. “What is the reset anyway, if you mind me asking?” I press the button, and she doesn’t notice the light click.

“On April 25, 462, everyone in the Republic’s catalog will be given a new life and body and the Biosphere will ‘reset’ to April 1, 462. This is done only to hide him from me,” she slowly opens her heart to me, though her voice still chokes up.

“What?” I ask under my breath. I clear my throat, but the large lump doesn’t budge. “What initiates this reset?”

“My husband,” she replies solemnly. “He doesn’t know it, but he always manages to press that button every single time. It’s like fate constantly taunts me.”

She pulls away from me, and I fall limp on her back. My head is fuzzy, and all I see is her purple hair. My body is numb, and I feel the stress its weight causes on the woman. I feel like I did something wrong, but I know calling the Republic was the best choice. Why do I feel so sad? My vision weakens and my headache intensifies.

I whisper, “I-I did it again…” I start crying and I don’t know why.

She crawls out from under me, saying “I forgive you.”

I’m so sorry, Valencia. She shushes me softly and strokes my head, lulling me to sleep. In twenty-five days, she will try to free me for the fiftieth time.