“Come in, Dr. Lindstrom.”

Nora stepped forward. “D-Dr. Lawrence, Dr. Oppenheimer.” She shook their proffered hands.

The man behind the desk was a hulking figure in a military uniform. “I’m General Leslie Groves, Dr. Lindstrom.”

“General.” Nora nodded to him. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to salute or shake his hand, so she remained frozen to the spot.

“Dr. Lawrence here thinks very highly of you. Dr. Oppenheimer, as well.”

Nora wanted to interject that neither of them knew her very well. Instead, she said nothing.

“I was just telling the general that you’ve accepted my offer—our offer—to undertake this crucially important job on behalf of the war effort. You’re the perfect choice. No one will do it better.” As he said the last, Lawrence glanced pointedly at General Groves.

“She’s a girl. The ink isn’t even dry on her diploma. You want to entrust her with perhaps the most important function in the place.”

Nora stared at a spot on the wall.

“I’m telling you, she’s got the perfect temperament for the job at hand, and she knows the science behind it far better than any of her classmates. She’s absolutely the right one. We need her.” Oppenheimer slapped the desk with his open palm for emphasis.

“No.” The general crossed his arms, brooking no argument.

“You’re wrong about this,” Dr. Lawrence broke in. “Hear us out. She’s a she.”

“That much is obvious.”

“It will be invaluable to have a woman scientist in charge of a gaggle of younger, inexperienced girls. Who better to do the job? She’ll understand them and their moods. She’ll be better at motivating them to do the work without asking questions, and they’ll relate better to her than to a man in a similar position.”

“No,” General Groves said.

Nora wondered if she really needed to be here for this argument. It seemed they were doing fine without any of her input.

“Dr. Lindstrom?” Lawrence wheeled around and faced her.

“Yes, sir?”

Before Lawrence could ask his question, Oppenheimer broke in. “What is your opinion on the advisability of hiring a cadre of female high school graduates and training them to sit at cubicles all day and operate machines very much like the ones you’ve been working on, using some of the principles you’ve been exploring in your research? Do you think it can be done? They wouldn’t have to understand the science behind it. In fact, we don’t want them to. You’d instruct them to twist the knobs and pull the levers in such a way that would achieve the correct results.”

Nora knew she must look like a deer caught in the glare of automobile headlights. “I—”