Finally, they had reached the cafeteria. Troy had not been too sure on how they were supposed to get there. Luckily, Dr Hale had been there, to act as the unintended guide.
When Troy went inside the food-containing heaven, he had wished for the beautiful aromas to fill his brain, with plenty of blissful sensations. Unfortunately, this was not a realistic expectation for what could be called law-mandated food dispensatorium. If they could let the workers starve, Troy was sure they would.
Still, according to the void in his stomach, the food wasn't looking too bad. The green parts were probably made to be healthy. It was definitely a natural product.
Getting over to the line, to the buffet, Troy began looking over his various choices. Some looked quite appealing, some looked familiar to this regular diet, and some were outright disgusting to look at. The two last points interchanged a lot, much to Troy's dismay.
Just to further his self-image, he chose some of the choices, which he usually ate. Baked potatoes, bland chicken with seasoning, with some bread and butter to the side. It was the meal for the ultimate generalist.
None of his choices were completely healthy or unhealthy. It was a fine balance, which Troy had mastered, through the art of self-control, and a very limited budget.
With his lunch for the day taken care of, the time had come to find a seat placement.
Unfortunately for Troy, he was not as lucky as he had been earlier this morning. No tables were empty.
The time had come to make a choice. Could he still make the excuse of being tired? No, anybody else with his usual caffeine intake would have had heart problems by now. Maybe he could eat somewhere other than the cafeteria, maybe move to his room. No, that could go wrong in several ways. He didn't know the rules for taking away food, and Troy wasn't sure he could find his way back to the room, much less back to the cafeteria.
It seemed that his choices were limited to inside the cafeteria. That is… if he decided to eat lunch today.
His mind didn't even need to answer that. His stomach made its opinion all too clear.
Back to his choices. Where would he sit?
Troy needed to think about this smartly. What would he be looking for, in a seating place? It would certainly need to be quiet. As little talking as possible.
Looking over the tables, it was obvious that Troy was running a hard bargain from the get-go. The people were making their relation to apes clear, with their shouting, laughing, and overall socialness. Still… there were a few tables, where people were being rather quiet.
Looking over the residents of those few, quiet tables, a new requirement was quickly established. Any table with people that scared Troy, would be ruled out immediately. He wouldn't be surprised, if they were all trained in hand to hand combat, with the ways they were handling their knives.
Looking over the tables, the available places were quickly dwindled to a… zero. A shame. No matter, what his stomach would say, it was simply impossible for Troy to-
Dr Hale walked past Troy, food tray in hand, without saying a single word, simply giving him an annoyed glance. He followed her instantly, no words said between them. No reason to make it more awkward.
Looking over Dr Hales shoulder, Troy figured out, which table they were heading to.
It had been one of Troy's first choices, with the residents of the table numbering to a flat one, making conversation nearly impossible. The table had been ruled out, though, when the resident had been identified.
“Dr Still-Face. Newcomer”, Charlie said, with his glass held high. “Finally, you have deigned to join me.”
“Hello”, Troy said neutrally, sitting down on the opposite side of Charlie.
Contradicting her usual variety of responses, Dr Hale answered with more than an annoyed glance.
“Good day to you, Mr It's-Just-A-Break”, Dr Hale stated. She sat down next to Charlie, who seemed to have found her jap all too humourous.
“It really just is a break, though”, Charlie said, beginning to tear through his not-so-minor stack of food. “Just for the record.”
“Trust me, it's over for you, and any general dating-opportunities”, Dr Hale said. “Maybe, you should have just had your eyes on Kim, and not gone any further than that. Three was a stretch to even try.”
“Three is a perfectly acceptable number for a young bachelor, such as myself,” Charlie said, defending himself.
“You have worked here longer than some adults have lived. Calling you young is a lie that I don't feel comfortable with,” Dr Hale retorted, waving her fork in Charlie's general direction, so as to increase the validity of her point
Troy found the way it was going all too interesting. Reality shows had always been a guilty pleasure of his. Seeing some of it live was all the better.
Looking over Charlie, Troy did not think that he could have been that old. His hair wasn't grey at all. His stature hinted at a bit more than casual fitness, with his arms thicker than some people's legs. If that was from fat or muscle, though, Troy couldn't tell. Charlie wasn't a bodybuilder, but he definitely had the muscle mass needed to be a bodybuilder.
“I'm only forty-two! Not even close to your levels.” The last part was muttered, but Dr Hale certainly heard it.
A fork was poked into Charlie's side, causing a very manly yelp to emerge from his throat. Yet, Charlie seemed to find some humour in all of it, briefly turning his head away from his pile of food and trying not to laugh.
If Troy wasn't daydreaming, he could even glimpse a twitch of Dr Hale's mouth.
“Okay”, Charlie said. “I deserved some retribution for that, but that doesn't mean you need to poke me, with your dirty fork! At least use your nails or something. I can't show up at the laboratory with a dirty lab coat on again.”
“Is Greg still bothering you about last time?” Dr Hale asked, cleaning her fork with her knife.
“When isn't he bothering me about something? I'm beginning to think he has misunderstood what his job is. He just stays in my personal space all day, criticising whatever he can about me. Today, there was criticism about punctuation errors on my draft papers. Punctuation errors! Can the man at least get creative about what he criticizes me about? Maybe my haircut being too good?”
“You don't have a haircut. You just hate getting it cut,” Dr Hale cut in.
“Long hair is a design choice, I'll have you know. It might save my life one day.”
“How the hell is long hair going to save your life?”
“When can long hair not save my life. Maybe I go to a metal concert and need to show my appreciation of the music, without shouting or using other parts of my body. Ever thought about that?” Charlie said, defending his terrible excuses.
“You brag about your jazz vinyl weekly,” Dr Hale said. “I don't think you will have to worry about metal concerts. Any other hobbies that might excuse your laziness?”
As if breaking the fourth wall, Charlie glanced over at Troy, who had been a bit too focused on enjoying the show. The stare was momentary, and Charlie's focus was quickly laid back on his food.
“Ĉu li vetludas?” Charlie said, after a few minutes of silence. Troy had no idea what he was saying. He brought his attention away from his plate, to look over at him.
Dr Hale sighed at whatever Charlie said.
“Demandu lin poste,” she said.
Okay. This seemed to be a bit private. Troy was pretty sure it was, at least. But, maybe they were simply switching language for no particular reason, and simply hadn't noticed.
“What did he say?” Troy asked Dr Hale.
She looked at Troy for a moment, seeming to debate inside herself. After a moment, she looked to have made a decision.
“He was asking if you were a receiver,” Dr Hale said, with a deadpan expression. Charlie was finding this all too amusing. And that was, what Troy was getting out of asking into personal conversations. Details he never wanted to know of.
Troy moved back to his food, pointedly ignoring their conversation from that point on.
He went through his plate, and, when Dr Hale had finished too, they began moving to the testing room, neither saying a word. At least, they weren't in a hurry this time.
Arriving back into the testing-room, Troy saw Dr Fidelis typing away at the screen as always. He stopped when they arrived and looked at his watch.
“Aren't you early?” Dr Fidelis asked. “I thought you would be away for at least a few more minutes.”
“Is the next test not ready?” Troy asked. If they had mandatory free time to use, he wouldn't mind not working for a few minutes.
“Oh, don't worry about that”, Dr Fidelis said, waving one hand, so as to wave away the worry. “All the tests have been ready since this morning. Well, all the tests we could feasibly cram into today.”
Cramming…
“How many tests do we have planned for today?” Troy asked. “If we were going after the maximum amount.”
This caused Dr Fidelis to look through the screen for a minute. After finding, what he was looking for, he went back to Troy.
“If my notes are correct, I have planned a maximum of eighty-three tests,” Dr Fidelis said, quickly looking back at the screen, just to make sure he got the number right. “Unfortunately, we don't have time to do them all. We are already over halfway in our work hours of the day, and we haven't even completed five tests yet, including those from yesterday.”
“How were you even planning for us to do eighty-three in a day?” Troy asked, a little flabbergasted. “I am genuinely curious about how you thought that possible.”
Dr Fidelis perked up, at the chance of explaining. Or, at least, it looked that way to Troy.
“Well, buddy, it would take some extreme planning, I can give you that. First off, we would be abolishing a few minor rights, such as limited work hours, breaks, and the standards of test transcriptions. Second would be getting up a bit earlier than normal. I would say an hour, maybe two, before midnight, so we could be bright and ready to test. Of course, as long as we complete the tests on the same day, they all count, so that gives us twenty-four hours to complete tests. That's about seventeen minutes to each test. Plenty of time, if we hurry, and stick to the plan.”
Troy was fine with the current pace. No need to abolish any limits. He was fine with breaks too.
“I don't even know what I was expecting”, Troy muttered.
Dr Fidelis grinned.
“That's the right tone, buddy! Now, let's get you ready.”
Troy's gear was strapped on, and in he went, ready to be bored for a good cause.
