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people will be begging to donate to us.”
    Optimistic, considering about ten people read scientific papers. “Sounds interesting,” Nora said.
    “Interesting? Sylvia is a scientific rock star and we’ve got her here.” Although he wasn’t actually slobbering, Mark teetered on the verge. “And she’s got a killer sense of style.” His obvious hero-worship felt creepy.
    “Now, Mark.” Sylvia bowed her head graciously. “It’s all due to Daniel Cubrero’s fund raising. His family foundation donates generously.”
    The name didn’t sound familiar to Nora but she didn’t hobnob with the super-wealthy types that tended to sit on nonprofit boards of directors.
    Sylvia’s dark eyes rested on Mark with indulgence before she addressed Nora. “It’s exciting research. HAARP started as a government program. High-frequency Active Auroral Ionospheric Research Program.”
    Nora spied a stack of file folders under the desk. She’d love to dig into the work. “I don’t know much about it.”
    No one seemed inclined to sit or at the least, leave her office.
    Again, Sylvia showed a patient smile. “The technology is just as complicated as it sounds. Not many people can grasp the concept. Much of it is based on the early discoveries of Nikola Tesla and unfortunately, the bulk of his research was lost when he died in the forties. The program began as a study of the ionosphere to enhance surveillance and communication, mostly for military use. But where it interests the Trust and others concerned about our planet, is how the technology might be used to study the effects of climate change. The Colorado mountain pine beetle kill is one dramatic area to gather research.”
    “Fascinating,” Nora’s mind raced beyond Sylvia’s words to the haystack of papers on the work surface. The documents and files seemed to split like protozoa, creating new stacks for sorting, identifying, and filing.
    “That’s an interesting plant.” Sylvia stepped around Mark to the pot. She ran a red fingernail along one wide leaf. “What is it?”
    Nora had a sudden urge to slap Sylvia’s hand away. “It’s corn.”
    Sylvia eyed her with skepticism.
    “Hopi corn,” Nora said. “It’s different than what we’re used to.” And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
    “And the pot designs? Are those Hopi, too?”
    Nora had etched the designs into the clay. “Oh, they’re just designs. Not significant.”
    “I don’t know anything about the Hopi tribe.” Boredom tinged Sylvia’s words.
    Such an ancient culture, so rich and intricate. And for some reason, Nora didn’t want to share it with Sylvia. “They’re a tiny tribe in northern Arizona in the middle of the Navajo reservation. They revere peace and natural harmony.”
    Sylvia stared at the corn for a moment then focused on Nora. “I know you’re busy on your first day and I won’t take up any more of your time. Why don’t we have lunch next week?”
    “That would be great.”
    “If you’ll cut my check, I’ll be on my way.”
    Wait. Check?
    Nora didn’t know what financial software Loving Earth Trust used. Where did they keep the checks? Did they have one general bank account or did each program have its own restricted account? What bank or banks? So much she didn’t know, check writing was a definite no-go. “Um.” She turned a desperate face to Mark, hoping he’d explain.
    He met her with an expectant uplift of eyebrows.
    This didn’t bode well for a great working relationship. Nora braced herself. “I’m sorry, Sylvia. I need to get acquainted with several things before I spend any money. I’m not even a signatory yet.”
    Sylvia’s full lips turned down in a slight frown. “I understand, of course. But the funding is there. I wrote a sizable check from my personal funds and Darla was supposed to have paid me last week. I hate to disparage her, especially since she’s gone, but she was really falling apart lately.”
    Nora retreated behind