CAMP Coulie stood at the end of a lake in a valley boulder-strewn slopes rising to dry, rocky walls, somewhere in the mountain wilderness on the California side of the High Sierra! It had the feel of having been built originally as some kind of military base. Two rows of flat-roofed dormitory huts faced a block containing a messroom, a kitchen, and offices across an open square. Stores and a transportation depot flanked the square on one side, and a large hall that doubled as a gym, with various extensions and classrooms, was on the other. A fence surrounded the buildings but with an appearance of being intended more to keep intruders and undesirable wildlife out rather than the occupants in. Although superficially similar in some ways, it was an improvement on the state-run "transit facility," Linc decided.
He arrived there sixteen days after his interview with Dr. Grober, in a dusty, dun-colored bus that collected him from the municipal airport at Fresno, along with a dozen or so others who had arrived at intervals through the day, presumably from different places. They seemed to be around his age, the average tending to maybe a year or two older. It was a mixed group, perhaps half to three quarters of them boys. Two escorts rode with them in the rear of the bus, in addition to the driver and an armed guard up front. They wore light-tan pants and shirts—military-style but without rank indicators or insignia. Linc had been told to give only his first name or a nickname to anyone who asked and to say nothing about his background or where he was from. So, apparently, had the others. There was little talking during the two-hour drive, but a lot of surreptitious eyeing and weighing up of strangers thrown together, searching for hints of one another's measure. A black kid with curly hair had been at the transit facility in the same group Linc was in, that Grober had come to talk to. He recognized Linc, said his name was Rick, and made a couple of attempts at conversation from the seat opposite; then he fell quiet when it became clear Linc wasn't feeling talkative. In the seat in front of Linc, a huge, broad-shouldered youth with blond waves that reminded Linc of Kyle spread his elbows along the backrest, taking up the center and forcing the skinny Oriental next to him almost off the end. The skinny guy perched with increasing discomfort for a while, then moved to another seat. The climb into the mountains grew steeper, and the scenery more barren. Nothing had been said about the organization that ran the place they were going to or what its purpose was.
Others were already there ahead of them when they arrived at Camp Coulie. The dress for the inmates—or whatever term applied here—was evidently olive fatigue pants, worn either with a matching blouse or T-shirt. More tan uniforms were in evidence also, some of them with overvests in various bright colors. Linc couldn't really see them as guards, he concluded as took in the scene while the rest from the bus were emerging onto the dusty forecourt inside the gate. The people in the tan uniforms seemed more involved with what their charges were doing than guarding adequately described. Supervising was the word that suggested itself. It was quickly made clear to the newcomers that the term used was wardens.
After some paperwork formalities in the office, the arrivals were taken to one of the stores and issued three changes of basic clothing apiece, plus boots, two sweaters, a mountain parka and rainwear, along with blankets, towels, toilet items, and other sundries. Then they were assigned to sex-segregated dormitory huts.
Each hut had its own warden. Hut 3, where Linc found himself, was under the charge of a "Mr. Green." Mr. Green wore a bright green overvest. The bunks were two-tier, standing five along each side of the room. Some, including all the end ones, which occupied the corners, were already taken. Mr. Green told the newcomers to find a new home from the ones remaining—they would be here for six weeks, he informed them. Linc picked out a lower-level one with plenty of light near a window and moved toward it; but as he was about to deposit his armload of kit on the mattress, a folded blanket was thumped down sharply from the other side. He looked up and found himself staring at a pair of clear blue eyes set in a fleshy but hardened face, fixing him with a challenging expression. It was Blondie, who had sat in front of him in the bus. "Mine." The voice was little above a murmur, but menacing. The eyes asked the rest: Any objection? Linc held his gaze for several seconds, then glanced away. Although others were bustling about or seemed still undecided, Mr. Green had noticed and was watching from across the room. Linc locked with the blue eyes for a moment longer, then shrugged and turned to take the lower bunk adjacent instead. Rick, he saw, was already installing himself on the far side.
"The name's Arvin," Blondie's voice said behind him. "Better not forget that now, y'hear?" Linc ignored him.
Mr. Green assembled them around one of the bunks and demonstrated the required way to make beds and set out lockers. He then undid everything and made the owner of the bunk repeat it; next he went around with each of them until they could all do it right. A mini-lecture followed on basic rules and the schedule for the immediate future. There would be no fighting, "fraternizing" (for which everyone read "screwing around with the girls"), use of drugs or alcohol, or disclosure of personal history; theft of personal belongings, attempts at intimidation, or refusal of assigned duties would not be tolerated; there would be maintenance of self, dress, and quarters to the required standards, and observance of punctuality. The penalty for infringement would be "RPO," or Return to Place of Origin. In Linc's case, that would mean back on the labor-camp rap. It didn't take him long to decide this was good enough for him—he'd be sure to stay very clean.
For now, Mr. Green informed them, they could clean up and change after their journey. The showers were at the rear. If there were further immediate questions, he would be in his private quarters at the entrance end of the building. Dinner would be in the communal mess at 1830 hours. Tonight would be free time until lights-out at 2100. Tomorrow would start with PE on the square at 0600 sharp, after which the newcomers would continue through the day with cleaning and fixing chores around the camp while the rest of the intake were showing up. A general address would follow dinner tomorrow, by which time everyone should have arrived. Then they would all be able to get down to business.