The greenhouse air clung to Fulton's skin as she stepped through the entrance. Too warm, too humid, too alive. Summer's territory always felt like walking into something's lungs."You look terrible," Elder Summer said without turning around. She was bent over something that might have been a tomato plant, fingers moving through soil with practiced efficiency. Golden hair moved in wind that didn't exist, catching light from the city below.Fulton didn’t answer, pretending she had remained unshaken by recent events. "I need information," she said instead."About?" Summer straightened, brushed dirt from her hands, and produced two paper cups from somewhere. Steam rose from both, carrying a smell that made Fulton's nose wrinkle."Gamma-Priority designation." Fulton took the offered cup. Drank without thinking, barely registering the flavor.Summer’s amusement died slightly. "This must really be bothering you if you haven’t even complained about my coffee."It was only then that Fulton realized what she’d just drank. The beverage sat in the paper cup, looking like motor-oil, smelling like fertilizer, and now that she’d thought back on it, the taste was somehow worse than both. "How do you drink this." Not a question. Fulton stared at the cup like it had personally offended her."There was a man I worked for," Summer said. Her voice had gone flat. "A long time ago, back when I was human, back when E-Class were our biggest concern. I had a title. Something with ‘assistant’ in it, sanitized, clean, professional. What it really meant was that I was Mr Davis’ whore."The word landed like a (...)