Part 71 (1/2)
”That still doesn't explain the champagne.”
”Well, it seems our good buddy Jack found a rock in his pocket when he got home,” Gunn said.
”I'm really not a klepto, I swear,” Dahlgren said with a grin. ”I tripped over that bag, too, and happened to pick up one of the loose rocks and stick it in my pocket. Forgot all about it until I was changing clothes on the Santa Fe and thought I better hang on to it.”
”A very wise decision,” Gunn agreed.
”I took it down to the geology lab last week to have it a.s.sayed and they called this morning with the results.”
Gunn produced the rock sample and slid it across the desk to Pitt. He picked it up and studied it, noting its heavy weight and dull silver color. His heart began to race as he recalled the similar characteristics of the ore sample the old geologist at the Miners Co-op had given him.
”It doesn't look like gold to me,” he said to the trio, eyeing their reaction.
The three men looked at one another and grinned. Giordino finally spoke.
”Would you consider ruthenium?”
Pitt's eyes twinkled as he immediately sat up in his chair. He studied the rock carefully, then looked at Gunn.
”Is it true?” he asked quietly.
Gunn nodded. ”High-grade, no less.”
”How do we know if it is there in any quant.i.ty?”
”We pulled the sensor records from the Bloodhound and took a second look. Though she is not configured to sense ruthenium, she can identify its platinum-based grouping. And according to the Bloodhound, the thermal vent has more platinum and platinum derivatives lying around than Fort Knox has gold. It's a sure bet that a significant quant.i.ty of that platinum-based ore around the vent is ruthenium.”
Pitt couldn't believe the news. He felt like he'd been injected with a shot of adrenaline. His whole demeanor perked up, and a glisten returned to his intelligent green eyes.
”Congratulations, boss,” Gunn said. ”You've got your very own ruthenium mine a thousand feet under the sea.”
Pitt smiled at the men, then grabbed one of the champagnes.
”I think I will drink to that,” he said, hoisting his cup up and toasting the others.
After they each took a sip, Dahlgren looked at his gla.s.s and nodded.
”You know,” he said in his slow Texas drawl, ”this stuff is almost as good as Lone Star.”
95
TEN MONTHS LATER
IT WAS A RARE CLOUDLESS SPRING DAY IN KITIMAT, the kind that turned the waters cerulean blue and made the crisp air taste of pure oxygen. On the grounds of the former Terra Green sequestration plant, a small group of dignitaries and media reporters was gathered for a ribbon-cutting ceremony. A cherub-faced man in a beige suit, Canada's newly appointed minister of natural resources, bounded up to a podium placed before the seated crowd.
”Ladies and gentlemen, it is my distinct pleasure to officially declare open the Kitimat Photosynthesis Station, the first of its kind in the world. As you know, the Natural Resources Ministry inherited this facility last year, built as a carbon sequestration site, under less-than-ideal circ.u.mstances. But I am delighted to report that the facility has been successfully reengineered as the very first artificial-photosynthesis conversion plant in existence. The Kitimat Photosynthesis Station will safely and efficiently convert carbon dioxide to water and hydrogen without any risk to the environment. We are excited that the plant can use the existing pipeline to Athabasca to convert nearly ten percent of the carbon dioxide generated from the oil sands refineries. Here today we have the prototype for a new weapon against atmospheric pollutants, and ultimately global warming.”