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trusted her, and they didn’t care if Charlie knew it.
    She liked these women more and more all the time.
    “Something we overheard,” Dot said at last.
    So Charlie had walked into a minefield. This had been true at Smith, of course. Faculty politics were real and explosive. She knew industry could be worse—there were larger amounts of money involved. She hadn’t really expected ASD to be better, even as she’d hoped it would be.
    Despite their cynicism about her, maybe it would behoove Charlie to do some fishing. “Can you tell me anything about Hal Reed? I’ve only met him briefly.”
    Charlie looked out of her office door again, giving Dot and Beverly the space to decide what to say.
    “He isn’t here,” Dot said. “Won’t be until after nine. Since it’s your first day, he’ll probably keep you waiting. Hal is… Well, he’s a manager first.”
    Didn’t that sound neutral?
    Beverly made a derisive snort. It mirrored what Charlie would have liked to do.
    “What about Stan Jensen?” Charlie asked. “I haven’t met him.”
    Beverly loosened up at this. As the director of the American Space Department, Mr. Jensen wasn’t their immediate boss, so this wasn’t as visceral a question. “I’ve seen him in the corridors. He has two modes, the first being glad-hander. You’ll see him with VIPs, giving them the rounds. He’ll bring them here and deliver a speech about what we’re doing and how it’s important and so on. ‘These girls make sure we don’t crash into the sea.’”
    “Except of course the boys in propulsion can’t get us off the ground,” Dot put in.
    They all laughed. Charlie suspected those notes of black humor were an important component of the work here.
    Beverly went on, “But other times, you’ll see him stalking around all tightly wound and bleary eyed.”
    Oh yes. Charlie had no trouble believing that. What if they failed? What if the Soviets won? What if one of those rockets exploded with an astronaut attached to it? No, Charlie had no problem imagining what might keep Stan Jensen up at night.
    But as long as they were speaking of ASD’s men: “What about Eugene Parsons?”
    This time, there was no hesitation. “Now, he’s demanding—”
    “Every engineer in this place is afraid of him—”
    “—even the astronauts get jumpy when he walks into the room—”
    “—I’m not convinced he’s human. He might be a robot prototype.”
    Dot and Beverly had spoken at once, but their meaning was the same. They confirmed everything Charlie had suspected when he’d interviewed her.
    “Is he effective?” she asked.
    “Everything that happens at ASD happens because of him,” Beverly said.
    And that was why he intrigued Charlie so, but she didn’t know Dot and Beverly one-tenth well enough to admit her interest. They would misunderstand.
    “Don’t take it personally when he yells, though,” Dot added.
    “I never take anything personally.”
    Before the computers had a chance to respond, the door of the department’s main office swung open, and Hal Reed strolled in. Charlie dashed over to her desk and put her heels on. It wouldn’t do for him to see her without her armor intact.
    Right as she finished, Hal leaned in to her office. “Morning, ladies.” His tone was as sticky as spilled syrup.
    This first phase was going to be enormously painful. Charlie hoped the rest of the job outweighed the hiccups.
    “Good morning, Mr. Reed. I was unpacking a bit.” She gestured at her perfectly arranged office, complete with reference books, potted ficus, new chalk for the blackboard, and a large calendar for deadlines. She’d already been in for more than three hours.
    “And I see you’ve met Dorothy and Betsy.”
    Beverly winced.
    “I have.” Charlie gave Beverly a quick look. She would have winked too, but she was afraid Hal might see.
    “Before the senior staff meeting at ten, I want to take you to meet some of the guys.”
    “Of course. Lead the way.”
    With a