Marcella
looked over at her husband Stan and gave him a weak smile. She was wondering
what she had gotten herself into. She married him to spite her mother who
treated her like prized livestock something to be auctioned off the best
suitor. Her mother didn't like Stan because he worked for the government and
had limited earning potential, and she couldn't brag about him because no one
understood what he did.
They
had turned off the highway and were going down a single lane black top road.
From the turn off it was sixty miles to the nearest city. As far as they could see
there was nothing but desert. There were mountains in the distance. The valley
stretched to fifty square miles. This entire area was not any maps. The black
top suddenly ended, and it was now gravel. Stan slowed down because the pot
holes were bone jarring. They went further with Stan driving around the biggest
holes. She was just about to ask if they were lost when a gate appeared. They
stopped in front of it. A fence with barbwire on top stretched in both
directions. There seemed to be no end to it.
"So now what," Marcella asked.
"We wait. We are being checked," he
replied and pointed to the camera on top of the fence. Their license plate was
being checked, and their faces run through face recognition software. The gate
opened. As they drove through, Marcella thought that she could have stayed with
her Mother in Houston. There would have been constant fighting both being too
headstrong to get along but Marcella wanted to support her husband in this new
endeavor.
The buildings seemed to come out of
nowhere, painted to blend in with the desert. The roofs were made of a material
to avoid detection by satellites. Before leaving Houston their car roof had
been pixelated with a special paint to avoid detection. Stan drove slowly up
the dirt street. There were no street signs just a small number by each door. Stan
drove to the third street and pulled up in front of C19.
"How many homes are here," Marcella asked.
"Sorry, that's classified."
They went inside. The small one bedroom
house was built during World War II. Marcella looked over the living room,
white walls, hardwood floors, and completely bare. She went into the kitchen
and sighed. The condo they had in Houston had Stainless Steel Appliances,
granite countertops, six burner gas stove. These appliances were white, old,
almost antiques. She went into the bedroom, same bare white walls, empty,
except for something on the floor. She went over and looked at it. Stan came
in.
"This place has a huge backyard, no grass
though."
"What is this?"
"It's a phone." It had push buttons. He
already told her their cells phones wouldn't work here. Cell phones had to
bounce off a tower and could be intercepted. These old land lines were secure.
They both jumped when it rang.
"Well, it can't be for me."
Stan answered it, "Yes; the trip was fine,
right away."
"I have to go, Orientation."
"Already."
"Yes, I'm sure there are numerous forms to
fill out. Here are the keys, for the house and car. I can walk over to the
administration building, just in case you want to drive around and check things
out."
"When are they delivering the furniture?"
"It's supposed to be today and the food."
They were to make a list out once a week, and it would be delivered.