“You must never say what it is we are doing here. If someone asks you, tell them you’re making donuts.”

  At first, Nora thought he was kidding.

  The woman sitting next to her whispered, “I heard one girl asked what the big magnet was for. The next day, she was gone. Poof. No one ever saw her again.”

  Nora wanted to say she was sure no harm came to that girl, but the way the speaker was talking, she wasn’t so sure.

  “The person sitting right next to you might be a spy. Ask no questions, offer no information, do your jobs, and we’ll win the war.”

  He finished speaking and an older woman stepped to the podium. “Girls, come with me. Men, stay put. Mr. Chaucer will continue your orientation.”

  Nora followed the throng of young women as they headed down the corridor to a classroom. As she entered, someone handed her a pamphlet. Between Us Girls and the Gatepost. She sat at the front of the classroom and opened to the first page.

  She needn’t have bothered, as the woman from the auditorium read them the entire pamphlet out loud, word for word.

  “Women must be well-groomed at all times. No midriffs, no shorts, no short skirts. Be industrious on the job and do not take advantage of those times of the month. Above all else, conduct yourselves with proper decorum and do not flirt with the men and distract them from their very important jobs.”

  Nora arched an eyebrow at the last. What about the men distracting the women from doing their jobs? She glanced around her. All of the girls seemed to be taking everything very seriously. Well, almost all of the girls.

  One young girl—Nora gauged her to be barely out of high school—raised her hand.

  “Yes?”

  “Is it okay to flirt with the boys when we’re not working and they’re not working?”

  The room erupted in titters.

  “You all are dismissed.”

  As they were filing out, Nora noticed that young girl being led in the opposite direction. She wasn’t laughing anymore.

  “Dr. Lindstrom?”

  “Yes?” Nora was startled by the appearance out of nowhere of an impeccably dressed woman carrying an official-looking folder. The woman seemed familiar, but she’d met so many since her arrival, she couldn’t quite place her.

  “Colonel Marshall would like to see you.” The woman must’ve registered Nora’s blank stare, because she added, “I’m Barbara. You met me yesterday when you checked in at the Castle. I’m Colonel Marshall’s assistant.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course.” Recognition dawned.

  “Come with me, please.”

  When they arrived, Barbara knocked on a partially opened door. “Come.”

  “Dr. Lindstrom is here as requested, sir.”

  She stepped aside to allow Nora to pass.

  “Come in and have a seat.” He indicated one of the guest chairs across from the desk.

  The office wasn’t anything fancy. In fact, it seemed almost like a converted supply room.

  “I’m glad I happened to be here when you arrived. Are you settling in okay?”

  Although she realized it was most likely a rhetorical question, Nora was eager to take advantage of the opening. Who better to talk to than the man in charge? “Actually, sir, I think there might have been a mix-up with my accommodations.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I was placed in the women’s dormitory, but I understand that I qualify for something called a Cemesto.”

  “Really?” The colonel rocked back in his chair.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you married with children, Dr. Lindstrom?”

  “N-no, sir.”

  “Are you married at all?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Cemestos are reserved for married couples with families.”

  “But I was led to believe that Cemestos were also for those with a higher clearance.”

  “You were led to believe wrong. Listen, Dr. Lindstrom, I realize you’re new around here, and maybe where you’re from you’re used to pulling rank. Let me make this perfectly clear. If I had my druthers, you wouldn’t even be here. But I’m given to understand that Dr. Lawrence has a fondness for you, so here you are. I can easily change that.”

  As much as she knew his words were meant to intimidate her, Nora had no intention of being bullied. “I understand that, Colonel. I’m simply asking for what is fair.”

  He rocked forward suddenly so that he was as close as he could get to her without going over the desk. “Winning this war is all I care about. Surely you and I can agree on that. Winning the war is not dependent on you sleeping cozily at night. You are not getting a Cemesto. I’ll have my assistant put you on a waiting list for a Flat Top. That’s the best I’m going to do. And let me make it perfectly clear that we are never going to have this conversation again. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you for your consideration.”

  He straightened his uniform tie and sat back. “Now can we get on with the business of why you’re here?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” He shook his head. “Women,” he muttered under his breath. “It will be your job to oversee a bunch of unqualified, green-behind-the-ears female high school graduates and to train them to perform one of the most vitally important jobs in this war. I thought perhaps you’d like a tour of the plant and a primer on how the machine works.”

  “Yes, sir.” She was happy to be back on safe ground.

  “Dr. Ludlow, who works under Dr. Lawrence’s tutelage at Berkeley, will take you to the Pilot Facility, familiarize you with the calutron machine, and give you a tour.”

  “That would be great, sir.”

  “Lindstrom?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “There’s a lot riding on the success of this operation. Up until now, nobody except specially trained Ph.D.’s have worked on these machines. It’s dubious at best to think you’ll be able to make this work. The odds are against you. I want you to succeed. Keep your girls quiet and make sure they don’t ask any questions about what they’re doing or why. It’s best if all they know is that what they’re doing will help us win the war.”

  “Yes, sir. Mum’s the word.”

  “Barbara!”

  “Yes, Colonel?”

  “Is Ludlow here yet?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “All right. Get out of here,” he said to Nora.

  “Yes, sir.” When she reached the door, she turned back. “I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot, sir. I do appreciate the help with housing. Thank you.”

  “Not another word, Lindstrom. Don’t make me regret it.”

  “No, sir.” Nora left and closed the door behind her. Clearly, she’d done all she could about her living situation. Now it was time to see what this mysterious assignment was really all about.

  “Is something wrong? You’ve barely touched your dinner.”

  Mary roused herself from her thoughts. “No, Mother. Everything’s fine.” She pushed the green beans around the plate. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “When you agreed to marry Daddy, were you in love with him? I mean crazy, head-over-heels in love?”

  Mrs. Trask set down her fork and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “What a question!”

  “I know you got married the day after graduation, but what about before that?”

  “Your father was the kindest, most considerate boy I knew. He wasn’t a blowhard like some of those boys. He wasn’t pushy or overbearing. He was gentle and understanding.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Were you nuts about him? Were you so in love that you couldn’t imagine life without him?”

  “Is this about Samuel?”

  “Please, Mother. I’ve asked you a question.”

  Mrs. Trask gazed out the kitchen window. “I can hardly remember back that far. I was enamored of him, I can tell you that much. Your grandparents thought him an excellent catch. He already knew everything there was to know about trains. Right from the start he wanted to be a conductor, and by golly, he did everything to make that happen. He had drive.”

  Mary closed her eyes. “That’s not about love. That’s about whether or not he could provide for you. I’m asking specifically about love.”

  “Love is fleeting, Mary Elizabeth. Kindness, consideration, and respect—these are the things that sustain a marriage.”

  There’s your answer. “I’ll do the dishes, Mother. Then I’m going out for a little while. I won’t be late.”

  “You worked all day. I’ll take care of the kitchen. You go on ahead.”

  “Thank you.” Mary kissed her mother on the temple, a rare display of affection. Then again, her mother had, however indirectly and unwittingly, helped her reach a momentous decision.

  When she arrived at the park, Sam was sitting on their favorite bench, waiting for her.

  “Hi.” He stood. “I brought these back for you.” He handed her the roses, looking a tad more wilted than they had several hours ago. “And the blanket, I brought that for you too.”

  “Thank you. That was very thoughtful.” She sat down and he followed suit.

  “How’s your mother?”

  “She’s fine, thank you.”

  “Any more word from your dad?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “How’s business?”

  “Booming. We had to hire someone to work second shift.”

  “That’s great.” She was fresh out of small talk. “I… I know this has been hard on you. You asked me a question, offered me a ring, and you deserve an answer.”

  He shifted so that he was facing her. He reached for her hands and then apparently thought better of it and pulled back. “Before you say anything, this has been hard on you too. As you said, you had a lot on your mind, what with graduation, and your dad, and taking on a full-time job. I understand why you weren’t ready to answer me right away.”

  Mary bit her lip. She didn’t really want to make this a discussion. She wanted to say her piece and get it off her chest. “Sam—”

  “I wasn’t finished. I’m sorry if you thought I was too pushy. I guess I panicked because I’m so sure how I feel, and I wanted to lock you down before you went off and explored the world like you were always talking about and found some other guy along the way.

  “You’re so pretty. I see the way other fellas look at you and it makes my blood boil. You don’t ever seem to notice them, but I do. I’ve always been so proud to have the prettiest girl in town on my arm.”

  Her nostrils flared. “I’m not some object to be possessed and paraded around.”

  “I know that,” he snapped. “I know,” he said more quietly. This time he did take her hands. “Mary Elizabeth Trask, you are always going to be the girl I’m in love with. I’m still asking you to marry me. I still have that ring in my pocket. But I want you to know, if you need more time, take it. I’m not going anywhere. If you say yes right now, we can stay engaged for two years, if you want, before we walk down that aisle. I just want to know that you’re going to be my wife and…anyway… That’s what I wanted to share.”

  If Mary felt badly before, now she felt like a complete heel for what she’d come here to say. Still, this didn’t change anything. She cleared her throat, withdrew her hands, and folded them in her lap.

  “Thank you for all of that, Sam. I know it was sincere and from your heart. You’re a good man, and any girl would be lucky to wear your ring. The thing is, I’m not ready to marry you.” Or maybe any boy.

  “Remember, I said—”

  “Now who’s interrupting,” she chided. “I know you said you’d be patient. But you deserve better than waiting around for me to decide it’s time. I have a picture in my head of what my life could be like. That image involves travel, and new places, and expanding my horizons.” And true love.

  “What happens when you’ve done all that? Then what? Sooner or later, you’re going to be ready to settle down, get married, and have a family. You don’t want to be an old spinster, do you?”

  “Of course not. But it’s a big leap from turning down marriage at eighteen to being an old-lady spinster. There’s a lot of life in between. I aim to experience it.”

  “By working at Meyer’s Drugstore for the rest of your life? Be realistic. How are you going to support yourself?”

  “I don’t want to fight anymore. I care for you, Sam. Truly, I do. I’m not in love with you the way I think I should be with the man I’m going to marry. I meant to spare your feelings, but you don’t want to take no for an answer.”

  “Trust me, you’ll grow to love me more over time.”

  “No. It doesn’t always work that way.” She recalled what her father said in his letter. “The fact is, you don’t know what’s best for me. Only I know that. And right now, I know what’s best for me isn’t marrying you. I’m sorry, but there it is, as plain as I can say it.” She jumped up and grabbed the blanket.

  “Mare—”

  “My decision is final. I’m sorry, really, I am. I hope you find the right girl for you, but it isn’t going to be me. Goodbye, Sam.” She tucked the blanket under her arm and ran. Even when the house was in sight, she kept running. She didn’t want to go home yet.

  She ended up at the library. It was closed at this hour, but she sat on a stone bench. Again her hands shook, but this time she didn’t feel the least bit nauseated. Instead, she felt unaccountably lighter, as if she’d been freed from a great burden. She laughed giddily.

  Something Sam said bubbled to the surface. He’d assumed she would have to work at Meyer’s for the rest of her life. Well, she wasn’t going to settle for that. No sir. She was going to kick the dust off and forge a new path.

  As she sat there, an idea began to take shape. Maybe she had a way out of this town, after all. She only wished she’d thought of cousin Louise sooner. When she’d overheard her mother yesterday gossiping on the phone with her sister, Louise’s mother, in East Tennessee about Louise’s new job, she should have known that this could be her big chance to get out.

  She checked her watch. First, she had to get home before curfew. Next, she had to tell her mother in the morning that she wasn’t marrying Sam, and if she didn’t like it… Well, that was too bad. After that, she’d put her plan into action.

  She fairly skipped all the way home. By gosh, Mary Elizabeth Trask was going to make her own way. Look out, world!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Nora picked her way carefully across the muddy street. So far, Dr. Ludlow—Del he had told her to call him—had shown her fully a half-dozen buildings under construction. He called the buildings by odd names: Alpha this and Beta that. Sometimes, he referred to the same buildings by numbers: 9201-something, and 9204-something. Now, they were on their way to Building 9731, apparently also known as the Pilot Facility. Her head spun with myriad details she was sure she’d never remember.

  “I hear you’re fresh out of Columbia.”

  “Correct.” Nora sidestepped another puddle.

  “You studied under Fermi?”

  “Yes.” Nora hoped her monosyllabic answers would discourage Del from questioning her further. That morning’s lectures about secrecy were fresh in her mind.

  “Dr. Lawrence sent me here specifically to train you, you know.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “He doesn’t really believe a bunch of teenage girls can successfully operate the calutron machines. Heck, we’ve barely mastered them in the lab at Berkeley, and we’ve got all guys with graduate degrees working on them.”

  They arrived at Building 9731, a drab, unremarkable structure that sat perpendicular to several other large, partially built facilities.

  “Make sure your badge is visible, and unless you want to get stuck on a massive magnet, you’ll want to take off any jewelry,” he warned.

  Nora’s first glimpse of the massive XAX prototype model calutron machine nearly took her breath away. The scale dwarfed the cyclotron she’d experimented with at Columbia.

  Del laughed. “You should see the expression on your face. It’s priceless.”

  “The alpha calutron units are substantially larger than this?”

  “Massive.”

  Nora studied the prototype in front of her. It was a modified mass spectrometer designed to separate uranium isotopes, different in size and scope, but not in theory, to what she’d been working on in the lab at Columbia. She thought about the work Lawrence was doing, what he’d said to her in his letter, and the meeting with him, Oppenheimer, and Groves. She added into the mix the partially completed construction she’d witnessed here and the talk of Alpha and Beta machines. Could it be that the intent was to create enough highly enriched uranium—to separate enough fissionable U-235 from the more common, harmless U-238—to fuel a giant chain reaction in the form of a bomb?

  She swallowed hard and her hands shook. If her supposition was correct, her work here really could help win the war. But the human cost for the other side… Oh, my God. What have I signed on for? She struggled to take in a deep breath. Don’t panic. Focus on the job.

  She gazed again at the calutron, then followed Del to the center of the building, where the control panel was located. She examined its many meters, knobs, and gauges. She reminded herself that the principles for operating this machine and others like it were exactly the same as the unit she knew, and she was fully qualified not only to operate the machine, but to teach her girls to operate it successfully too.

  Her girls. She already thought of them as that and she hadn’t even met them yet. In fact, she wasn’t even sure how many of them had been hired to date. Was she allowed to ask that? Did the question violate secrecy codes? If she was going to supervise them, didn’t she need to know how many of them there were?

  She made a note to ask about the parameters of her job. But who should she ask? She realized she didn’t even know for whom she worked. Who was her boss? What were her hours? Where was her office? Did she have one?