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.