I'm convinced there are better reasons to sign up for a space mission than a toothache.
But for me, that's exactly how it happened. Want to hear the story? We've nothing to do but wait for the storm to abate, anyway. If it ever abates. Jean, bring us another round and sit down, I'm about to tell a story!

...

So, here's to toothaches and space exploration. Cheers!

The particular, cursed morning I woke with a hurting tooth, I had nothing else to do—who had, in the middle of the depression following the hydrogen crisis. So I went to the dentist. I hadn't visited for ages. The lack of a job and cash pushed dental care a long way down on my to-do list.
I was trapped the minute I entered the shiny premises. The nice young assistant at the front desk asked for my insurance number with a perfect smile and guided me into the consultation room, straight into destiny's claws.

The doc took one glance at my rotting tooth, my worn coat, my scuffed shoes, and insisted on charging me in advance. Not that I can blame her. When I politely refused, buttoned my coat and made ready to leave without a fuss, she presented me with the recruiting poster.

What can I say? How could I resist a beautiful blonde offering release from the pain in my jaw and a secure job in addition?

We left Copernicus station ten days later. The positive thing, the dentist did a thorough job. My teeth never ached since. The bad thing, well, we all sail the same boat.

I was hired as an unskilled worker, like the brunt of the recruits. Then they found out I'd grown up on an algae farm on Mariana VII, so I was sent directly to the agri-domes.
I won't complain, life out there is hard but fair. Six days of work, seven-hour shifts, with nine hours to yourself in between. Two days off after each cycle to visit the central hub. Not enough water, if you ask me, but then I'd seen more than enough of that on Mariana.

Well. As mentioned, life out in the domes is hard, fair, and boring. As soon as I'd adapted to the rhythm, I found myself wondering about the planet beyond the dome. I read the reports of the first lander team. Free library access is one perk in the agricultural zone.
The pioneers had it rough, but the company invested with a generous hand and built the main habitat within cycles from first landing. However, they registered twenty-something unaccounted losses, supposedly due to heavy planetary weather.

Human ingenuity is legendary though. Within one grand cycle, the dream of colonising the storm planet became real, the central hub was built and the colonist recruitment began. It's hard to believe this happened only three GCs ago.

The early reports caught my imagination, and what came next is entirely my own responsibility. I wouldn't miss a minute of it.
Ha, now I got your attention. Jean, we need a refill, it's on me! No guarantee we ever get the chance to enjoy your best booze again.

...

Yes, my interest was piqued. I wanted to walk a planet unprotected by a dome. See, I've never had the chance to experience outdoors before.

Sneaking through the emergency lock proved less of a challenge than I feared. It took five cycles to gain the janitor's trust, but we became buddies over a few beers and card games. Drake was an old hand, the one-hundred per cent real thing. Born on Earth in the aftermath of the climate catastrophe, left with the first settlers as a kid, and spent his life during the big expansion. He was in his seventies and had some tough stories to tell.

When I confessed I yearned to go outside, he simply laughed and handed me his keycard. Turned out he'd done it himself, several times. He even lent me a work suit and emergency breathing equipment.

My first expedition was a success, from my point of view. It's a renowned fact the atmosphere is breathable, in theory, low on oxygen and nitrogen, high on helium and argon. Trace gases whose effects on human health are discussed controversial, but nothing disturbing. The only thing you have to steer clear of are the geysers puking toxic, acidic gas. They burn out your lungs in minutes without a filter mask. So it's best to wear it while taking a stroll outside.

You've heard the theories why this planet is supposedly lifeless, it being too young geologically and that jazz. I'm no geologist, I wouldn't know. But I can tell you the landscape is breathtaking.
Wild, frightening, and beautiful. I've spent quite some time exploring the bluff beyond the outer agri-zone. Wonder what impressed me most? The weather. To feel real raindrops on your skin, wind tearing at your hair and limbs. It's intoxicating, something I never knew I craved for till I experienced it first hand.

Drake and I established a routine, keeping each other's back, venturing out increasingly often, exploring further. One night, when I was reading in his little office, he came back shaken, his wrinkled old face red from the wind, his eyes ablaze. At first, he wouldn't tell me what happened, said I'd have to check for myself.

My curiosity was ignited. In my next break, I memorised his instructions. So far, I'd kept to the valley floor, out of sight from the dome. Now, I followed Drake's scribbled map to a peak further out. He'd taken the pain to mark the important turnoff for an easy ascent with stacked rocks. The climb was arduous, even with my body gotten used to the high-g environment.

However, the view from the summit was worth the exercise. I could see the layout of the settlement in the distance and the twelve domes of the agri-zone sparkling in the sunlight at the foot of the range. The immense building site of dome thirteen, still in the early stage of construction, tearing like a giant scar into the wilderness.

That's when I found proof Drake didn't send me for the view.

While I stared at the achievements of human engineering, strong winds tearing at my coverall, whipping my hair and making me stumble, I heard them.

Voices in the wind.

At first, I cursed my imagination. Who wouldn't? But the more I strained to ignore them, the clearer they became. Filtering into my brain, filling my mind.
Don't believe me? I can't blame you, I was sceptical myself. They didn't use words, not exactly. There were sounds, obviously, the eerie howling of the wind and more. Thoughts in the form of pictures, feelings expressed by smells and tastes. Guess you have to experience it to understand it, secondhand descriptions are bound to sound silly.

Call me crazy, but I stayed there for a long time, listening to the thought-voices. Watching the base morph from a magnificent achievement of human engineering to a festering wound on a pristine planet.

When I returned, Drake knew I'd met them. We didn't mention it. I kept to my schedule in the domes for two cycles, pushing the alien thoughts away. But I couldn't forget. I went back to see Drake.

He was serious, almost solemn, and didn't talk much. For the first time, we ventured out together, both needing confirmation in the presence of a witness. We got it, a kind of. The voices were real, talking about freedom, beauty, and destruction. And there was a promise of secrets and ancient knowledge.

Drake said nothing, but I suspected he was still listening to the sirens' song that night in the shelter of the dome.
He left two cycles ago.

That's right, shortly after the vicious storms picked up. I was on duty, but he left me a note, offering to join him if I dared and leaving me a key. He never planned to come back.

At first, I thought he searched death out there. Now, I'm sure he picked sides in a surreal war. Can't blame him, it looks like the colony is in for it, only a matter of time till the domes break. I haven't found the courage to follow Drake, yet. But another one of your best, Jean, and I'll reach that point ... Thanks, my friend!

Okay, guys 'n gals, this is the one, the ultimate storm. No, I'm not trying to play the role of a prophet calling in the apocalypse. What could I gain? I already paid for the drinks we consumed tonight. Not going to need money where we're headed.

We've got the choice, wait for the domes to crack or embrace whatever lived here before us. Anyone game to join me? No? Well then, I've got an appointment with destiny. Goodnight!

~

Annals of the era of discovery, entry 2174, colonisation of the Phoenix sector —
The investigation team sent by HQ never discovered the reason for the failure of the ambitious farming project pX73. The beta planet was found pristine, a rocky desert with no trace of the once flourishing terraforming plant or the dozen agricultural domes reportedly built.
Unfortunately, the planet had been visited by the crew of Caracas in the meantime, an infamous fortune hunter. Unfounded reports about their brief visit prevented further colonisation attempts. Silly but persistent legends describing anthropomorphic "storm-beings" rendered recruiting campaigns fruitless.