Gloria gaped at Justine’s blackened shirt. “They do not pay you enough to afford laundry soap? How long has it been since you washed your blouse?”
“It was clean when I arrived at work yesterday. They don’t make us change clothes when we leave, so nothing about this blouse can possibly be a secret.”
Gloria made a gesture with her hand, asking Justine to stand up and spin in place. The black dust clung to the white fabric evenly, front to back and top to bottom.
“I see that you are working with carbon. Such a quantity of dust so fine floating in the air suggests that it is being machined. It also suggests that your employer is not taking proper care with your lungs, but never mind that for now. You say that you only assemble the parts?”
“Others are doing the machining, although I certainly wouldn’t mind having that job. There are walls around our manufacturing lines, within the factory’s outside walls. We’re like a plant within a plant,” Justine said, feeling reasonably sure that it was okay to describe something that was visible to the thousands of Higgins employees, not to mention the delivery people and outside contractors working outside the factory building. “They say those internal walls are meant to keep the dust off of everybody else, but…well…they keep everybody else’s eyes off of us, too. My line assembles metal parts that are small and light enough for us to hold in our hands—”
She paused as she realized that this last detail was probably too much information to share.
She began again. “That’s enough about what I do. Let’s focus on the carbon, which you deduced without any input from me but my dirty shirt. I haven’t gotten a good look at the carbon parts, but I’ve heard the machinists joke about the slots they’re carving into them.” That, too, was probably too much information to share, so she tried again. “The carbon parts and the…things…that the women on my line assemble are taken into a separate walled-off area by the loading dock that I can tell you about because it’s visible from outdoors through the open loading dock where deliveries come and go all the time. I presume that’s where the various parts we make are assembled into the final product. Whatever it is.”
“Yes, whatever it is.” Gloria doodled for a moment. “You work within a walled-off area of the plant, but the final product is assembled in a walled-off area within that one?” She doodled some more, drawing circles within circles. “The spaces are nested, like the dolls my father carved for me. The contents of the final doll must be so very precious.”
Gloria reached out a hand and brushed it on Justine’s collar. Then she held that hand close to her face, rubbing the pad of her thumb around on the tips of her carbon-dusted fingers. “Have they given you protective clothing? It would be heavy, made of lead.”
Justine gestured at the carbon residue that permeated her shirt. “Does it look like we wear protective clothing? I had coveralls over this shirt and see how much of the dust sifted through?”
“That’s actually good. Well, I think it’s good. Hmmm.”
Gloria’s silence stretched for an uncomfortably long time, but Justine was used to that.
“Have you been told anything at all about where they’re sending your handiwork? Or can you say?”
“I can’t tell you what they’ve told me, but it’s not much. However, I don’t see how it could be a problem to tell you what the workers who aren’t working for the Carbon Division are saying. It’s just gossip, but it’s not secret gossip.”
Gloria’s impatient raise of her eyebrow said, “Go on.”
“Most people think we’re building radio parts. Others think we’re building parts for RADAR devices.”
“The parts for a RADAR device would have a certain amount of overlap with parts for a radio, at least in function.”
Justine nodded. “A few people have heard rumors about a new bomb sight. They think we might be working on that.”
“Yes, yes, yes. These are rumors, and they are not very helpful. What do you think?”
“I don’t know. The most persistent gossips are behind the radio parts theory, so I’ve had my mind set on that.”
“Do you think this—” Gloria held out her blackened fingers. “Do you think this belongs in a radio?”
Justine shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“Justine,” Gloria said, and Justine felt her reproach, “of course you have an idea. Perhaps your friends are gullible enough to believe this rumor, but I doubt any of them had a father who liked to spend evenings tinkering with radios with his little girl. How many hours did you spend building radios with Gerard?”
“Those were just crystal sets. Are they really applicable to—”
“No, a crystal set is not the same as a modern radio used by the military, but yes, it is a radio receiver. Wouldn’t any radio receiver have parts that fulfill the same functions?” Gloria counted those parts and their functions on her fingers. “An antenna to pluck the signal from the air. A resonant circuit to select the desired frequency. A means to make the captured signal audible.”
“Papa and I used a capacitor and some wire coiled around an oatmeal box for our resonant circuit. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think the military uses oatmeal boxes.”
Gloria pulled off her glasses because they were interfering with her ability to glare at Justine. “All that may be true, but is there any reason to use carbon for a resonant circuit? Or for any function in a radio transmitter or receiver? What are the properties of carbon?”
“Um…it’s insoluble in water, which makes it really hard to get the stuff out of my clothes. It combines with oxygen to form carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide, but that takes a fairly high temperature.”
“If they were going to burn it, they would not be paying people to machine it into shape.” She paused a moment, her brow furrowed, before continuing. “Whatever you are making, it has a function.”
Justine nodded. “Carbon comes in different forms, like graphite, diamond, and…um…”
“Amorphous carbon, which is much like the coal we burn. Do you recall whether carbon is a good conductor?”
“I think it’s not.”
“Amorphous carbon is not. Graphite is. Both forms have their place in electrodes.” She waved her blackened fingers around. “So would carbon in any form be useful as part of a resonant circuit?”
“No? I don’t think so?”
“I doubt it. What else is in a crystal radio set?”
“The crystal. Papa and I used a piece of galena and a fine wire. Wait! We did use graphite once. A graphite pencil lead and a razor blade. He said it was a foxhole radio like the soldiers in the last war used.”
“Very good. So maybe your carbon parts are useful in that way, but I doubt it. What were the other components of your crystal radio?”
“We needed earphones to make the sound audible. Newer sets use loudspeakers for that. Also, newer sets use vacuum tubes instead of crystals. To answer your next question, I don’t know how you would use carbon to make any of those.”
“Nor do I.” Gloria stared at the stains on Justine’s shirt. “These things you are making are very odd, considering that you work for a business famous for building boats and aeroplanes. Is this something that they’ve done for quite some time? Is this a secret?”
Justine shook her head. “Everybody at the plant knows when the Carbon Division started up, and so do the families who see us come home covered in black dust, so that’s no secret. It hasn’t been long. Mr. Higgins got a government contract, put the Carbon Division facilities behind a wall at one end of the Michaud plant, and moved two thousand of us out there a couple of weeks ago.”
“Two thousand? All of a sudden? Now, at the supposed end of the war? And you think someone is sabotaging the effort?”
Gloria let herself slouch against the back of her chair, and this disturbed Justine. Gloria never slouched. “Everything you’ve said—the secrecy, the speed, the thousands of workers—says that our government is mounting a last-ditch effort to gain an advantage in the war…the same war that they would like us to believe is almost over. You have reason to think that the effort is being sabotaged, although you have no way to know whether it is a fellow employee with an ax to grind or whether it is an enemy saboteur. If the enemy is doing it, they have a foothold inside the factory. This is ominous. I know that asking questions is in your nature, but it is not safe.”
Justine shivered, although Gloria’s house was warm. She had wanted her godmother to tell her that she was worried about nothing. She hadn’t wanted her to grill her within an inch of her life about the science of carbon. She certainly hadn’t wanted Gloria to warn her away from a quest that she knew in her soul that she was going to have to take. Her only comfort was knowing that she would have her godmother to lean on while she did it.
“We can work together, Gloria. I can use the phone at my rooming house to call you whenever I see something interesting and—”
“No.” This denial was unexpected from the person she trusted most in the world. “I cannot help you.”
Justine couldn’t believe the finality in her godmother’s voice. “Why not? I need you.”
Gloria roused from her slouch and leaned forward, elbows on the table and black eyes glittering. “They will know. There are no listening devices here inside my house at this moment, but they surely have devices on the streetcars. And at your rooming house.”
“Who do you mean by ‘they’? What kind of listening devices are you looking for? Radio transmitters? Gloria, they’re too big to hide. You’d know if someone had put one in your house.”
“Don’t be such a fool. The most brilliant scientists in the world are working to make them small, smaller, always smaller. These are people you yourself know. They were your parents’ friends. My friends. And now they serve governments. Our government. The governments of our allies. Of our enemies. Who can say? Consider what you know of these people. Can you honestly doubt what they can do? When they are able to build replacements for vacuum tubes that function in a solid state—oh, Justine. Listening devices will be everywhere. They will even come in our houses concealed in the mail.”
Justine’s beloved Gloria was afraid of her mailbox. She listened for the sound of her whole world cracking open.
“Every day, they try to catch me in a mistake. And every night, they try to plant their bugs. When I wake, I must search again.” Gloria looked over her shoulder, peering into the kitchen at…what?
“You could stay here with me if you promised never to leave. I am often lonely. I see no one but the neighborhood boy who does my shopping, and I do not dare converse with him for fear that he cannot be trusted. It would make all the difference if I had you here.”
“What do you mean when you say ‘never to leave,’ Gloria? Aren’t you leaving the house? Aren’t you teaching?”
“Of course not. Spies are everywhere at the college.”
Now the miniscule salary that had kept Gloria housed and fed was gone. How long could she limp along like this with no income?
“Gloria. What are you doing for money?”
Gloria stared at the wall behind Justine’s shoulder. She didn’t answer.
Then she was in sudden motion. Her right forefinger and thumb pinched Justine’s left earlobe and used it to drag her closer. Justine struggled to keep her chest from dragging across her eggy plate as Gloria yanked her close enough to hiss her fears into her goddaughter’s ear.
“Keep your voice low. They are likely gathered just outside the window. They will hear us.” Justine felt Gloria’s grip loosen. The hand gripping her earlobe pulled away as Gloria plastered its palm over her own mouth, as if to lock in words that might be overheard.
“They are out there.” The words were muffled by Gloria’s hand. “It is good that my hearing is excellent, or I would not know that they were back. I sometimes think that I can hear radio waves. It occurs to me that they may have implanted a crystal on my eardrum. If I could somehow fine-tune this ability, I might finally know why they torment me so continually.”
Oh, Gloria.
“They are all-pervasive,” Gloria insisted, gesturing with both hands. “They have wormed their way into my bank account, where they taunt me.”
“They’re stealing money from your bank account?”
“No. They’re too clever for that. They leave money behind, so that I will know that they have been there. Sometimes—” Her eyes darted from the window to the door to all four corners of the room. “Sometimes, they sneak money into the bags the neighbor boy uses to deliver my groceries.”
“Gloria, that’s your change.”
“This is what they wish me to believe.”
Justine didn’t know how to respond.
“My sweet child, they have been waiting a long time for me to make a mistake, but I am too smart. Look around you.”
She held her hands out, palms up, inviting Justine to scrutinize the room where they sat.
“I do not trust the telephone, and I will not speak a word outside these walls, but my house is safe. I inspect everything, every book, every can in my pantry, every dress in my closet. Every day, I do this. I clean each item and put it away. My every possession has a home.” She turned to the shelf behind her. “This book…here. That book…there. You see? There can be no radio receivers or transmitters in this house, no matter how miniscule. I would know. But after I sleep, I cannot be sure, so I must do it all again. If you came to live with me, we could take turns standing watch. But you will not come. I know this.”
Justine looked at the sparkling clean house with new eyes. “Who, Gloria? Who would be planting radio receivers and transmitters?”
Her godmother gave an elaborate shrug. “I don’t know. Them.”
Speaking carefully, Justine said, “If there are no radio receivers to hear you talk, then I could call you on the phone.”
Gloria leaned—no, lunged—toward her, hissing, “No no no! Don’t you see? Someone would be listening on the line. What did I say to you when you called?”
“You said, ‘It’s so good to hear from you,’ and ‘Yes, please come.’ That was about it, but I figured I deserved the silent treatment after staying away so long.”
Gloria graced her with a beatific smile. “You see? I gave away nothing to listening ears. I risked letting you come here, just this once, because I needed to see you so much. Now that you know how things are, you understand why we must be apart. You must go.” She rose. “Now.”
Gloria had Justine by both elbows, and her grip was ferocious. As they walked, Gloria muttered continuously. “If you insist on learning about the sabotage, you must find a way to do it safely. If you find the saboteur, then perhaps my persecution will end. Young. He is young.”
“What?” Justine asked. “Who’s young?”
“Electrodes are both positive and negative. You know that, yes?”
Everybody knew that.
They reached the door and Gloria threw it open. Staring blankly out at…something? nothing?…she said quietly, “Which way? Do you know which way?” Without waiting for an answer, she shook Justine hard and hugged her.
“You must be careful,” she said. “Very careful. Surely you have guessed why I say this?”
Justine didn’t know what to say, but she didn’t want to upset the agitated woman. “Because the voices say I should be careful.”
“No!” Gloria bellowed, momentarily forgetting that “they” were waiting outside, listening. “You should understand the danger better than anyone. What do you think happened to your parents?”
Justine was incapable of absorbing what Gloria was trying to say. “What?”
“If you think your parents’ deaths were an accident, then you are a fool. Now go.”
She pushed her goddaughter out the door, and Justine stood trembling on the doorstep.
“What? What are you saying happened to them, Gloria?”
Gloria said, “You must be more careful than they were,” and the door slammed shut between them.