It is chilly outside. The wind blusters through the trees as if to announce the beginning of fall.

A group of about twenty students smile and wave at everyone disembarking from the bus. They catch people's eyes and call out at them.

"Greetings, Greta!"

"Hey Jula!"

"Yo, Asteroid!"

"Hello, Newbee!"

"Hi, Shai!"

Some of the people stand confused, and others speed up walking past the wavers. The last person startles and runs the other way.

A red-cheeked boy wearing all brown, topped with an acorn-shaped cap catches Petra's eye. 

"Hello, Petra!"

"Hello?"

"Campus is that-a-way," the acorn-capped boy says, pointing across the bridge where many of the former bus-riders are headed. It's clear why the bus stopped here: the road narrows to a footbridge over a swiftly-flowing river.

After pointing, he resumes waving.

It's mildly unsettling how he didn't introduce himself or explain how he recognized her.

She'll nod in reply and move on, heading towards campus as directed.

"Bye!" the acorn-capped boy says, before turning to another student. "Hello...!"

There is a sign in front of the bridge: You walk now on the bridge that those before you have built over the River of Knowledge.

Taped to the sign is piece of paper handwritten in marker, Ignorance is bliss, with a U-turn arrow on it. As Petra watches, the wind blows it away into the river.

Well, that's surprisingly ominous. Still, a handwritten sign (from a prank, maybe?) isn't going to dissuade her from going to orientation. She'll continue on without pause.

Midway over the bridge, Petra hears the wood planks rumbling and then a chorus of bells. "Oh no, it's the Bikers," says an old, grizzled-looking student, and it is clear from their tone of voice that these are the Bikers, not any bikers.

A group of ten Bikers whiz by on bicycles, setting the wood seriously rattling. They are all wearing green helmets and green jackets emblazoned with PLANT POWER on the back, each embroidered with a different fruit or vegetable. One of them take a brochure from their basket and drops it into Petra's hand as they pass.

That's an aggressive way to advertise a club, though she supposes start of term recruitment can get intense at her own university. She'll dispose of the brochure at the first trash or recycling she passes on her way to orientation.

"I'll recycle that for you," the grizzled student says. They are wearing a shirt that says, "Have you tried Agnosticism?" They have a paper bag which appears to be full of brochures. "And of course, report this to the proper authorities." They point to a sign on the bridge which says, No soliciting.

"Thank you,"

It's nice to see that this isn't the norm here.

"There's a lot of pressure to convert," they continue. "Especially if you're a new student. But know that you can always choose not to follow any religion. Do not join any religion unless you feel, deep in your soul, that it is the right choice for you."

"I wasn't aware that those bikers were a religion, I assumed they were just a club here,"

"All clubs are religions. They all promote a certain conception of a good life, and is that not what religions do?"

"I don't think, say the basketball team, promotes a certain conception of good life?"

"Ah, you mean the Physicalists? They believe that a good life is full of vigorous exercise, especially with well-defined roles within their tribe, in competition with other tribes."

"Let's walk," the agnostic continues, "It's not wise to loiter on the bridge."

"Of course," replies Petra, walking with him towards orientation.

She's fairly confused about what this student is suggesting about clubs here.

"Are you saying that the Physicalists are the only group that plays basketball on campus?"

"Ah, no. I have also played basketball on occasion. It is nice to return to a state of us versus them, but on a playing field where no one gets hurt. The thrill of being united with my team watching the ball pass through the enemy's hoop..." The agnostic has a wistful look in their eyes.

"You may feel free to dip your toes in as many informal clubs as you want, or even attend introductory meetings of registered clubs. Indeed, I encourage it. But be careful of committing to membership. After all, the food that they lay out at their welcome events may not be the same food that they feed you later on."

Petra is confused, and uncertain whether the referenced food is literal or metaphorical. Maybe things will be clearer after orientation.

She nods, "Thank you for the advice,"

They arrive at the other side of the river. A road leads uphill, and another follows the river to the left. A street sign shows that they are the Path of Progress and the Path of Learning, respectively.

There are buildings to either side. The one on the left side looks run-down, and the letters on the front appear to read GuM, though another glance shows that the "u" is in fact a Y missing its tail.

"Do you know which building the orientation is in?" Petra asks her companion.

"It's in the Student Activities Complex, right next to the Wholebeing Center--that's where I'm headed. It's on the left side at the next intersection." They head uphill on the Path of Progress.

Petra will follow them there in that case!