XIX

“Come this way.”

Martha followed the Navy ensign, the heels of the young officer’s shoes clicking on the worn linoleum as she led the way down a long dingy hall. Once the doctor had declared Martha fit to leave, the old men had informed her they had arranged for her to do her clerkship with the Judge Advocate General’s office at the nearby China Lake Naval Weapons Station.

“A very prestigious clerkship and well paid,” the tall white-haired man had declared. “It is much to your advantage, and we would like you close this summer to be sure you have no residual ill effects from the accident. You were, after all, injured in the company of a federal agent. Let us know if you remember anything more about what happened. It could be important.”

Martha’s requests to talk to the Los Angeles law firm that had hired her for the summer were brushed off.

“Everything is taken care of,” she was told. “It was the least we could do.”

“I can only work a few months before I must be back to law school,” she had pointed out.

“No problem,” the old man said. “We expect a full recovery by the end of the summer. This fall you will be back in school, continuing your legal studies right on schedule.”

That promise went a long way in putting Martha’s mind at ease. She could tolerate a lot if she wasn’t going to lose her place at the Yale school of law.

“Can I call my parents to tell them about my new clerkship?” Martha was excited when she was taken to a phone and given at least a show of privacy.

“Martha, are you sure you’re all right?” Her mom had been horrified to hear she had been in a car accident. “I can fly out tomorrow. I hate having you there all by yourself.”

“I’m fine, Mom, really. The doctor told me to just take it easy for a while and not do any sports or activities where I might hit my head again.”

Martha did her best to reassure her parents, not mentioning her painful, deep bruises. As Camm had cautioned, she was cooperating with the NSA, or more accurately, playing the thing out. She would wait to see what developed and formulate a better plan when she knew more.

In the meantime, she was hoping to hear from Camm, or at least discover what had really happened to her. She knew everything the NSA told her was nonsense.

Staring at the ensign’s back, Martha thought, At least they seem to be buying my story that because of my concussion, I can’t remember anything after we pulled into Valley Wells.

The young ensign, looking sharp in her navy blue skirt and white blouse, led Martha to the end of the hall where two small offices faced each other across the hallway. The hall ended in the open door of a small, bleak break room.

The offices were contained in a temporary structure, old and plain. Everything at this end of the long, narrow building had recently been covered with a thick coat of paint. There were no windows. A loud evaporation cooler blew moist air through a hole in the center of the break room ceiling. The rest of the old building was warm and smelled moldy, in spite of the paint job.

The ensign ushered her into the right-hand office and indicated her work station, which consisted of a simple square cubicle containing a small desk, an old computer, and a rickety secretary’s chair. A thin folder, a notepad, and a couple pens lay next to the computer. The color scheme was military blah. There were no pictures, no plants, nothing to brighten the atmosphere. It seemed very sterile, very isolated.

Martha glanced around for signs of any coworkers. There were none.

She had expected to be working near the Judge Advocate General’s office, but it seemed she was to be kept away from everybody. Even her living quarters were single-occupant military housing. All units around her were vacant.

Pointing at the bulky computer, the ensign said, “You will receive all your legal research assignments by email. You will find sign-in, email, and any contact information contained in that folder. Your computer is connected to all pertinent government and Internet sites so you can complete all your research online. Prepare and send all your reports in electronic format. Hard copies will not be necessary. After you have returned each report by email, you will be given another task. Any deadlines will be explained in the task summary. Any questions?”

“So,” Martha asked hopefully, “will you be working here with me?”

The ensign looked startled. Her eyes darted quickly around the barren room. “Oh no, I have other duties, and I appear regularly in military court.”

Martha sighed. “Will I be working all alone?” She felt as if she had leprosy.

“Oh no,” the navy officer responded curtly.

Striding across the hall, she opened the door to the other small office. Inside were two teenage boys hardly old enough to be out of high school.

Each sat at his own small desk, the top covered by an ancient desktop computer. The back corners of the room were stuffed with what looked like abandoned office equipment.

The boys did not seem to be doing anything. Both wore dull expressions and appeared to be shell shocked. Neither boy looked up.

“These two young men will be assisting you. Let me introduce you. Boys, this is Martha. She will be your supervisor. Martha, this is Jim and Sean. They will be your assistants.”