Pterodactylus
31-03-2005, 14:24
Steve Bridgeford stood on the Western Cliffs on Bouvet Island, surveying the rough ocean through thick Polaroid sunglasses. It had been a long day, digging the foundations for another Portakabin to house the colony's 70-something settlers. This one was a watch house at the far end of the island.
"Steve! Come quick!"
Bridgeford's thoughts were rudely interrupted by the island's chief engineer, James Derrick, calling from the other side of the island. His legs turned his tired body around and carried him across the ice and tundra. As the scene of the building site approached, he could make out a faint glint of light, as if a mirror had been placed in the trenches, which were now ready for the steel girders to be embedded tomorrow.
At the scene, the light source became apparent. Derrick was holding a rock encrusted with a layer of shining, silvery metal, while about forty square metres of freshly uncovered ground sparkled with the same elemental beauty.
"What the.....What have you found?!"
Derrick struck his rock against a steel pipe he had previously used for holding up the ditch walls.
"This, Steve, is our ticket to profit."
Steve stared at the pipe, now sporting a gash from the rock's blow. Again he turned to James, who, wryly grinning, asked:
"So, how much do you think tungsten is worth on the international market?"
"Steve! Come quick!"
Bridgeford's thoughts were rudely interrupted by the island's chief engineer, James Derrick, calling from the other side of the island. His legs turned his tired body around and carried him across the ice and tundra. As the scene of the building site approached, he could make out a faint glint of light, as if a mirror had been placed in the trenches, which were now ready for the steel girders to be embedded tomorrow.
At the scene, the light source became apparent. Derrick was holding a rock encrusted with a layer of shining, silvery metal, while about forty square metres of freshly uncovered ground sparkled with the same elemental beauty.
"What the.....What have you found?!"
Derrick struck his rock against a steel pipe he had previously used for holding up the ditch walls.
"This, Steve, is our ticket to profit."
Steve stared at the pipe, now sporting a gash from the rock's blow. Again he turned to James, who, wryly grinning, asked:
"So, how much do you think tungsten is worth on the international market?"