This is a Test

Ch. 3 - Part I - Day Two

As much as he tried not to, Cashe learned a bit about his fellow co-workers. Miranda spent all her time in her office, slowly typing on her computer while sipping from one of her many flowery or herbal teas (two sugars). Karina focused her attentions on her seedlings, but scowled at anyone that caught her narrowing eyes. Dante waved his arms constantly as he spoke to ensure people noticed him. Roger wouldn't shut the fuck up about Gonthrop University.

Lia was the only one of the group Cashe could tolerate. She was never around, she never spoke when she was, and he rarely noticed her when she was present. That afternoon, he had entered the Shop to find her working while wearing headphones blasting at a high volume. The nearby monitors displayed a song, rolling lyrics, and a picture of a guy whom Cashe assumed from the credits was David Bowie. The title seemed appropriate for their mission, and every now and then, her fingers tapped the desk as if hitting piano keys. He did not wish to intrude, so he arrived and departed without her noticing.

Cashe spent the day inspecting the work that the roving 3-D printers were doing. They would systematically build new walls, but the habitat was meant to be an amalgam of designs. Multiple styles had been theorized for interplanetary construction and it was his job to incorporate as many as possible with adjoining tunnels. Stressors would be implemented at some point to see how well they endured. Cashe's first project was to create interlocking frames for walls in addition to panels that would slip inside them. They were designed to lock quickly and securely in place so that any habitant would be able to build the facility regardless of physical strength or skill set.

As ten at night closed in, the settlers started wrapping up their work. Miranda approached Cashe and asked if they could meet at eight in the morning. She had talked to the others and all had agreed that they would make decisions as a group without a declared leader. Cashe was amenable to that and added his agreement for unanimity.

As they all eventually filtered back to their rooms, Cashe had the displeasure of catching Roger's eye as he passed by the man's quarters. "Hey, buddy," the geologist said with a wave from his doorway. "You gotta come here. You need to see this."

Cashe did not believe that he either had to go there or had to see something, but he acquiesced to know what had the man so excited. He entered Roger's room to see how the rock doctor adorned the empty space above his bunk.

The big man was beaming. "So, what do you think?"

"I honestly do not know what to say," Cashe said sincerely.

"I know, right?"

In the empty sleeping spot, there was a collection of a dozen or so rocks of different shapes, textures, and colors. One had shiny bits that reflected in the light while another was composed of light-pink crystals; otherwise, none appealed or caught Cashe's eye. Roger narrated the history of how he acquired each one as Cashe surveyed the geologist once more.

Rocks. The man had brought rocks. On a real mission, every pound of weight would cost Anoptica a million dollars in fuel and this man brought rocks. There was no way Cashe was getting a smaller bonus than this guy. If part of his payout would be due to how he compared to the other inhabitants, then Roger just made Cashe's job a lot easier. One down, four to go.

"...and the other geologists from Gonthrop would be so jealous if they knew about my collection." Roger turned away from his pebble shelf to look at Cashe. "I knew you would like it."

"Oh, no. Absolutely. I'm shocked. This is fantastic," he said and departed with a hearty thumbs-up.

Cashe reached his room and headed to bed, but as he readied himself for sleep, he couldn't stop thinking about his fellow cohabitant. As he only knew one alumni of the college, Cashe developed a mental image of Gornthrop University. For someone such as Roger to have completed a doctoral program, Cashe assumed the education standards to be poor to non-existent. At first, he had imagined the school as nothing more than a tent city and double-wide trailers surrounded by outhouses and porta-potties. It was only upon passing Roger and Miranda conversing that Cashe heard the psychiatrist rave about how beautiful the campus looked on the Anoptica Atlaser website. Her ten seconds of remarking on the amazing old architecture and the bounty of gardens did more to convince Cashe that it was a learned institution than did three hours of Roger's brags.

Cashe still could not separate the man from Gornthrop U. in thought. The engineer envisioned himself journeying there to see the denizens of a place that bestowed such an academic honor on so undeserving an individual. Cashe imagined steepled stone buildings looming over mighty oak trees that were interspersed across vibrant green, crisp-cut lawns. Sitting in the grass were dozens of college-aged Roger-like creatures of varying genders and nationalities, all with their legs splayed before them and their arms limp by their sides, their knuckles resting on the ground. Some stared off blankly while others licked their lips or chewed empty air. Near one of these humanoid forms, a Frisbee lay upside-down and unloved, for none of those present had the physicality or mind for sport. Near another, a folder was kicked open by a bully wind and pages full of class notes skipped gleefully away from their owner, who cared not, for the papers held nothing but incoherent scribblings bordered by pornographic doodles. Once the test was over, Cashe swore to visit the campus to see what kind of shit-shackle operation Gornthrop University was running.