I gradually open my eyes, allowing my brain to return to reality. For a moment I lay motionless in my bed, anticipating my monthly contact lenses to flare to life as they autonomously sense my active brain waves. After a moment, I notice bright streaks of light contaminating my vision, until a clock, my daily schedule, and other personalized statistics glide into place, overlaying my peripheral vision. I quickly take notice of my bionic clock: 3:02 AM, 28 April 2219, Terran Standard Time. I had slept for three hours last night after finishing my studies, although my cybernetics, miniscule machines that perform maintenance and improvements within my body, effortlessly relieved both me and my developing brain from the fatigue. Sleep, for most, was an immoderation. It was unnecessary, although it allowed one to quickly pass the time. Personally, I’m glad I had the nanomachines installed- everyone was granted access to them, although some fervently refused for religious reasons.

I effortlessly swing my 220 pound, six foot frame off the left side of my bed, and stroll towards my bathroom. The smooth, ceramic panels heat under my feet as they realize my discomfort- I always hated cold tile in the mornings. Maximilian, my personal AI (artificial intelligence) assistant beams me a mental message as soon as I step foot in my prearranged shower. I had programmed him not to bother me until my shower, as sometimes I was reclusive in the early morning- pondering studies and existential curiosities from the night before. Now, his cool, sharply intelligent voice pervades the public portion of my consciousness:

“It's a magnificent morning sir- tell me, any anomalies you wish to converse?”
“I’m doing fine this morning, Max. If not a little nervous regarding visiting my family in the States,” I think back.
“Ah, but sir- you haven't seen them since you enrolled in University! Surely you must miss them. You are still a bachelor, after all.”

He was correct, of course. I hadn’t seen them in eight months, and did need to pay them a visit. I just hated traveling; the public places instigated my anxiety. As an infant I had the chance to genetically cure my condition, although my parents insisted upon me remaining entirely natural. At the time, fifteen years ago, genetic manipulation was still awaiting government approval- it’s effects on the population were still being observed from the inception of the technology 150 years ago. My family was adamant that my life never be negatively affected in any way by medical tinkering, and wanted to be indubitably certain that the technology was safe. As for my relationship status… although most young men and women were paragons of appeal, it was harder than ever to find a soulmate, a true partner, as most valued thought and personality above all else. There were nearly 20 billion people inhabiting the solar system, and there was no rush to aimlessly fall for one person.

After I have finished avidly cleansing my body, I allow Max to air dry me and provide my attire from the drier. I watch as one of his mechanical manifestations uses several stainless steel appendages to steam, smooth, and neatly hand me my khakis and polo shirt. I thank him and slip them on, signaling two ceramic tiles to fold out from under me and apply my sleek black shoes to my pale feet. They fold downward and inwards, splitting in half right under my feet. My series of activity-specific shoes are visible in a semicircle under the floor. Two polished shoes sit directly under the removed tiles, and I ease my feet into the artificial leather. The fibers tighten to conform to the curves of my feet, the internal padding expanding and contracting for maximum comfort.

After I’ve dressed and groomed, I make my way to VAR University’s public transportation module. My dorm room is situated on the twelfth floor, so I begin treading to the nearest elevator. As I walk along the Eastern hallway, I stare out the seamless, practically unending window to my right- although the sun is still down, the perpetual lights of civilization illuminate the adjacent buildings. A prodigious cyan sign, reading ‘Venusian Atmospheric Research University’ twinkles on the nearest-most building. The sign seems to contrast the pearly white campus headquarters nicely. Thriving green grass sits in orderly areas around and on the building, representing nature’s total incorporation into modern society.

I near the transparent cylinder encompassing my transportation module- invisible cameras mounted on the ceiling have already monitored my approach, and made sure to keep a uni-passenger pod on standby. I glance at my partial reflection in the glass, and lean down toward the cylindrical tube to look down its interior- I can see light from the farthest end of the tube; most likely light from outside. I push my thumb to a small, almost paper thin monitor next to my waiting entrance into the tube, and I quickly select my destination. Using my fingerprint, the machine quickly bills my account the miniscule price for transportation- just for maintenance, as I’m not a tourist. Visitors pay a slightly larger fee, as they disrupt the flow of typical transportation. The door to my single seated pod hisses open, sliding upwards. I crouch down, and slide myself into pod. As the nearby security systems realize that I'm properly in place, the door drops closed and the interior of the pod lights up with cyan night-attuned lights. They aren't very bright, so my eyes don’t stress over adjusting.

Behind me a few slightly offsetting hisses sound in sequence; just the tube’s systems annunciation of the removal of air in the encompassing tube. Five feet in front of me a windshield displays the fact that I’m beginning to accelerate, and a few numbers in the corner of the glass reveal both my ETA and current speed. I quickly accelerate to over 200 miles per hour, and the skyscrapers around me melt away into a blur, their glass facades molding into a large, cohesive building. My pod, approximately 30 feet above the ground, is forced into a slight turn to redirect itself toward the city’s central transportation logistics center. It’s just a building jutting with semi-transparent tubes that works to combine all of the separate tubes into a functioning whole. Due to the lack of passengers at three in the morning, it is capable of leaving my route open, not having to decelerate me.

I zip through the building and out the other side, and gape at the silhouette of the genius monstrosity coming into my frontal vision. It’s a giant, dark shaft, running from the ground to the edge of my vision above. In reality, it extends a few thousand kilometers directly upward. It must have costed billions, if not trillions, to design. It’s colloquially known as a space elevator, and it lifts spacecraft from the ground to a safe height above, where gravity and the atmosphere has a lesser effect on them. Around the construct is a complex of buildings, together being Venus’s sole spaceport. They cost extreme amounts of funds to maintain, and one billion people, mostly miners and scientists, didn’t merit the cost of multiple. Fortunately, curiosity validated one.

After a blur of both leaving my capsule and routinely stepping through the port’s various safety precautions, I finally arrive at the base of the massive elevator, and sit down in my predetermined seat. Hundreds of other travelers have already arrived, and I patiently wait the half hour until lift off. After an eternity, the elevator begins its ascension, accelerating at a rate that won’t discomfort the passengers. After about an hour, we’ve reached the edge of the Venusian atmosphere. Where there used to be jet streams of 300 MPH carbon dioxide, there is now only idle oxygen. Scientists around the solar system worked with diligence to terraform Venus- even managing to, in a relatively small period of ten Earth years, increase Venus’s rotational speed by a factor of ten. Now, instead of requiring 240 days to complete one revolution, Venus rotates on par with Earth.

Down below me, the gigantic domes my city resides in begin to look as puny as contact lenses. Across the planet, several lights indicate areas of commercial interest- primarily mines. Because only a small portion of Venus is colonized, and there are no mining restrictions, corporations have endeavored to relieve the planet of millions of tonnes of raw minerals and rare gases. Due to a shortage on Earth, this allowed Venus’s colonization to be profitable. Of course, that and the inevitable overcrowding of Earth…

Finally, we reach the pinnacle of the elevator, and several large, football-shaped spacecraft lumber around, locked in geostationary orbit. An arrow on the floor directs us passengers to our bay, and we begin ambling toward our craft, dreading the future six hours that would be spent out there, in the cold, empty void.