Free Mine: The Arrival by Brett Battles Page A

rollers leaned forward and said, “It doesn’t have a name because it hasn’t been discovered yet. Isn’t that right?”
    Balabanov looked uncomfortable. “It’s only a matter of time.”
    “So what is this mysterious material?” Dvornikov asked.
    “He’s talking about meteorites,” the eye roller said.
    “That’s right, I am,” Balabanov said.
    “Meteorites,” Dvornikov said, frowning.
    “Many meteors are older than the earth itself. They’ve been molded by the furnaces of stars. There is no doubt in my mind that some contain crystal structures considerably stronger than diamonds. And I’m equally sure a few meteorites with these elements have already reached Earth.”
    “Have you been looking for them?” Dvornikov asked.
    “I have.”
    “But you haven’t discovered any.”
    “Not yet, but I will.”
    Dvornikov laughed loudly and raised his glass of wine. “You are enthusiastic, Comrade Balabanov, I’ll give you that. To your eventual discovery.”
    As far as Kozakov knew, no such paper had ever been published. The last he heard, Balabanov had fallen afoul of the State and had been sent to Siberia. Likely he was long dead.
    Still staring at Durant, Kozakov asked, “But…but…how? Where?”
    “It certainly wasn’t easy. My sources must have looked at thousands of meteorites, without me telling anyone exactly what they were looking for. Of the thirty-seven pieces sent to me, only two ended up having any balabanite.”
    “Balabanite?”
    “Yeah, thought we’d name it after your friend. Of course, since the last thing we’re going to do is let anyone know about it, the name will likely change when someone else ‘discovers’ it.” He paused. “I had some people who wouldn’t ask questions clean the samples up as best as possible, and then had another person create the drill bit you sketched out.”
    He lifted a sealed cardboard box onto his desk.
    “You haven’t opened it?” Kozakov asked.
    “I thought you should do it.”
    Kozakov wanted to rip the top off the box, but he restrained himself and used the letter opener Durant offered. The interior was stuffed with balled-up pages of newspapers. He shoved his hand between them and felt around until his fingers bumped against a metal box.
    The box was red, about six inches square and two inches think. Inside were two drill bits, each cradled by metal brackets. The shaft looked like a typical shaft, ready to be mounted into Kozakov’s high-powered precision drill. The two inches of rock that made up the rest, however, was anything but common. The bit maker had simply attached the pieces to the mount, orienting the balabanite so that its narrowest edge formed the tip.
    Kozakov picked up one of the bits and rotated it for a good look.
    “So?” Durant asked.
    “I cannot believe you were able to do this.”
    “It meets with your specifications?”
    “It appears so.”
    “Remember, these are the only two we have. If something happens to them, I’d be hesitant to try to make another.”
    “I understand.”
    Kozakov studied the place where the base and the rock came together. It appeared that the maker had used a high-end resin to connect them. It was the best solution in this situation, but Kozakov knew the junction would always be the weakest point.
    “Shall we give it a spin?” Durant asked.
    __________
     
    T HE DRILL WAS attached to a metal arm mounted to a weighted pole, so that it could run without anyone holding it.
    Kozakov examined the two bits again and chose the one he thought inferior. His first attempt would be made on the broken rod piece, just in case the bit worked too well and damaged something important inside.
    After he secured the rod in an industrial-strength brace, Kozakov mounted the bit into the drill and moved the arm so that the tip of the balabanite was almost touching the rod. He then turned to Durant. Crowded around the director was the rest of the Project Titan team, all hoping to finally witness a