Free The Salvagers by John Michael Godier Page B

rescue. You'd put on a moon suit to buy a few more hours and head for the communications room.
                  I paused for a moment, thinking that I should bring something out to excite the crowd. I unstrapped a bar of gold and pulled it along behind me. It would weigh over 200 lbs on Earth, but in zero-G it weighed nothing yet still required significant force to get it moving. Mass is mass.
                  "I'm sure everyone's still out there. I don't want to come out empty-handed," I said to my companions.
                  We made our way through the first transverse corridor and on to the entry cut. I followed close behind my companions. Our communications returned, and we could hear everyone talking. They were waiting for some confirmation of success. I didn't say anything but just pulled the bar around and let it float freely in front of me. Everyone erupted into cheers. For the rest of that night we were very happy people, spending what was left of the evening drinking champagne on the Hyperion and talking about how wealthy we were.
                  Even the most stoic academicians seemed to join in and contemplate how much money their percentage worked out to be. We had a rough idea, but everyone wanted to know exactly how rich they were. I'd counted one of the facing stacks in the hold and made an estimate. It was beyond anyone's expectation. We believed that the ship was carrying more gold than had been assumed. We weren't just wealthy; we were filthy rich. Every one of us, or so I thought.
                  Amid the excitement I wish that someone had stopped for a moment to look around before we went merrily rocketing back to the Hyperion . No one had bothered. But if they had, they might have noticed that a new star had appeared. It would have been bright enough for anyone who navigates in space to have noticed. It marked the full-throttle engines of a ship, distant and weeks away, heading straight for us.
     
     

Chapter 9     Day 206
     
                  We spent the next morning coming up with a method of unloading the gold over coffee. The ideas ranged from floating it across freely to ferrying the bars between the ships using transport pods. The engineers had the best suggestion: a bucket brigade and a conveyor line. It seemed be the fastest way and involved little risk.
                  The plan was to use a pair of pulleys, one attached near the hole in the Cape Hatteras and the other outside the cargo hatch of the Hyperion . We would number and catalog each bar before sending it across in a bag attached to the line. The people on the other side would wheel it around, unload it, record it in the ship's manifest, and strap it down securely in the salvor's hold. Then they would return the empty bag on the other side as a new bar arrived. With any luck we hoped to move as many as 50 bars a day.
                  Cataloging would be the most important part. I couldn't just toss the bars in the hold and be on my way. It wasn't my personal gold; it belonged to the investors and employees too. We would get our fair share when the time came, but we had to be meticulous to avoid disagreements. Once the treasure was cataloged, the hold would be sealed and guarded, with only myself and Keating having access. When we reached Earth, we would unload the cargo at an old orbital dock colloquially known as "Waterloo." We chose it because that's where the Cape Hatteras had launched its mission. It seemed appropriate for our expedition to return home to Waterloo Dock 4b.
                  When we arrived at Waterloo, we would check each bar against the records again, accumulate a good-looking pile, and then call the press in for photographs and holograms. We would need serious security, so Ed Iron had contracted a private firm in Kathmandu that specialized in guarding transports to the outer solar system. It was made up of