Adam arrived at the bar at 19:10, finding Zach sitting at a corner table. He slid onto the bench beside him and placed two beers on the table.

“Sorry I’m late. Got talking to someone.”

“That’s fine.” Though the look of intense relief Adam had seen when he arrived suggested Zach wasn’t as cool about it as he tried to appear. “I haven’t been here long.” The beer glass he had sitting in front of him when Adam arrived was almost empty, but maybe he’d been thirsty and drunk it quick.

“Nice and warm today,” Adam said. “Funny to think it’s winter back home.”

“It’s definitely odd to have no real seasons here. I’m from Boston; I think I’ll miss fall and winter.”

“California boy, myself, so we don’t have much of a winter. But yes, it’s strange even for me. The constant climate makes agriculture much easier, though.” He shook himself. “But hey, that sounds like work talk, and it’s against the rules.”

“Rules?”

“My rules. No work talk on a date.”

Zach smiled. He clearly liked the confirmation that they were on a date. Unless he thought it silly. Adam had met guys who thought dating was what you did with women and considered it a waste of valuable sex time. He didn’t agree. He loved dating. He intended to date the hell out of Zach Benesh.

“All right, no work talk,” Zach said. “So, what about this concert? I was going to check up about it, but I got too busy.”

“Quarterly reports, huh?” Adam knew the answer from the pained look on Zach’s face. It would do him good to forget about them for a few hours. “Okay, no work talk. Right, the concert. It’s more of a recital, really. Kids from the school.” Zach’s false expression of enthusiasm amused him. “I know, it will probably be awful, but it gets me out of the house.”

“I don’t see you as being someone who has a problem there. You seem very social.”

“Too social.” Adam would have his doctorate already if he’d been a bit less social over the last few years. “But we have to meet people. They keep us human, don’t they?”

“I ... I guess.”

He sounded unsure. Adam guessed he was more the solitary type. An ivory tower academic who’d grow long fingernails and a beard down to his knees if left to his own devices. A born hermit. But Adam wouldn’t allow it. If Zach needed a little push out into the world, Adam could give it to him, whatever other directions their relationship went in.

“Let’s go,” Adam said. “Finish your drink.”

“Already? It doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes, and there are plenty of seats.”

“I know. But I’m going to show you the best seats in the house.”

They finished their beers, and Adam led Zach past the banks of chairs arranged in front of the stage. Some were occupied already. There was little entertainment to be had in Arius, so any event, no matter how prosaic, brought people out. Even the candidate’s campaign speeches for the council elections drew sizeable audiences -- sometimes armed with elderly eggs and vegetables to increase the entertainment value of the event.

Adam led Zach to a flight of steps behind the stage, dodging past the bustling crowd of kids and teachers and parents. The steps led them to the first of several catwalks ringing the walls of the dome. Plants had long ago taken over the catwalks and steps, some of which had become almost fully enclosed green tunnels. From others, the plants hung in great curtains of foliage.

“Are we going all the way to the top?” Zach asked, cautious on the steps, holding tight to the handrail as they climbed up to the next level.

“You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?”

“No.” He sounded unsure.

“The acoustics up there are amazing. And it gets the most light and least disturbance, so it’s like a jungle! Come on, two more flights.”

The sounds of voices, squeaks, and groans from instruments warming up and a snatch of melody here and there floated up as they climbed. At last they reached the highest catwalk, the smallest circle of all, close to the top of the dome.

“Now round the other side so we’re facing the stage,” Adam said. “Careful where you step. There are tendrils and branches on the floor.” He picked his way around carefully by the light of the soft lamps, some almost hidden by foliage. Behind him, Zach muttered a curse or two as they walked. “Okay back there?”

“Just wishing I’d remembered to bring my machete.”

“Hey! No chopping plants except for the purposes of pruning, please. You wouldn’t like me coming along and smashing your rocks, would you?”

“I do have a collection of interesting rocks, actually.”

Adam laughed, glancing back to see Zach cringe, perhaps reading the laugh as mockery. It wasn’t. Interesting rocks might be an oxymoron to Adam, but what could he say about it?

“Maybe one day we can introduce your collection of interesting rocks to my collection of interesting seeds.”