“The moon's all R&D. I went to Lasalle,” Will says easily, stepping around a protruding bit of metal, loose gravel crunching under his boots. He's smiling, partially up at the sky, partially at Don, mostly at everything. He's not generally in the habit of unsettling people, and he's never enjoyed feeling like some kind of rare specimen under a microscope, but he figures taking a little pleasure in the absurdity of everything here is necessary survival mechanism. He's always been good at that. “I don't know if that was a thing where you're from – it had some specific programs I was qualified for. But most of my classmates were rich Terran kids.”