The corridor wasn’t as gloomy as the one on Dare’s ship. Instead of wood paneling, the walls were white, though flaking and crumbling in places. Open doors revealed cabins filled with makeshift beds built on wooden crates, and roughly folded blankets. If the accommodations weren’t as comfortable as our cabins on Hatteras Island had been, they weren’t far off. The ship wasn’t large, and in less than twenty paces we stood before the farthest door. Jerren opened it wide. This was no cabin. Desks ran along either side, built to follow the contours of the curved walls. Above each one were three sturdy metal shelves. They were lined with books and machines. No space had been wasted. “What is this?” I asked. “I figured you could tell me. They never let me see it. To be honest, they never let me on board at all.” “I thought you said—” “That it was a reconnaissance ship, yes.
