Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The outrush of pressurized inert gas left the three of us laying on the ground. Not having looked at my watch before the blast it did me no good to check now ... I checked anyway.

Yes, yes, yes. I know. Nobody wears a watch ... not when the internet runs on atomic time. I’m old and my Patek Philippe Grand Complication Blue Dial Chronograph Men’s Watch hand wound suited my wrist. It only loses three seconds a year and I can check it on the internet.

Sure it was spendy ... so I went a little overboard ... it’s not every day that the United States pays an inventor a hundred million dollars for a patent. I bought it, a car, a home in Australia and moved. I had been excessively frugal since. Until I married Just Abby ... after I was sure she was satisfied I reverted to Mr. Makeabuck Squeek.

Over the continuing rush of air, Abby was groaning, “The dream didn’t mention this part. My head hurts.”

Regardless of consequences she fumbled in her pack and came out with a black anodized aluminum flashlight. Pointing it down the immense hole she turned it on. That fucker was bright. From what I could see, what we had was a gold lined quartz tube big enough to stand up in, It was like a lava tube.

“That’s quite a light.”

“Forty one hundred lumens. It’s supposed to have a range of eight kilometers. It’s been known to bore a hole in 13 millimeter plywood.”

“This looks like a job for a mining claim,” I said. “Myndee. Your phone is so smart ... does it have a GPS?”

“I’m sure there’s an app for that.” She began running magic fingers through screen after screen. “Yup.” She fiddled with her screen, “33°19’38.5”S 149°54’59.4”E -33.327372, 149.916487”

“Can you store it?”

“Done.”

“Okay. Help me camouflage this hole,” I said.

She had been turned the wrong way. She turned around. “Holy Shit!”

I had to catch her before she fell.

Recovering, she said, “How?”

We went through available options ... not many. Eventually we decided to take a high volume sample and knock down the ceiling ... hopefully covering the true extent of the find.

So, we gathered several hundred Troy pounds of gold by the simple expedient of prying it out of the ceiling with long bars. a heavy canvas tarp was nailed to the ceiling then the ceiling was knocked down covering the hole. Away we went.

We pulled into Bowens Holding in the late afternoon.

“Mr. Bowen? Who owns the other side of that ridge?” I pointed at our little path.

“Nobody. The state wanted to include it in my allotment but it’s too steep to plow or graze. Didn’t see no sense in it.”

“Thanks ... we’ll be back.”

“Hold on. You want to buy it?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Why?”

“Summer cottage. We’ll make one trip with materials and equipment and then limit our access to once a week.”

“Ain’t nothing there.” He said. “Hell, I’ll sell you my side ... it’s too steep.”

“What’ll you take for it?”

“Thousand.”

“Abby? Pay the man.”

She fingered out ten Jolly Green Giants and passed them over.

“Mum. Fetch my receipt book and the plat map.”

We now owned the southwest side of the ridge. Our next stop was home. We parked off to the side. We removed some gold to the Defender. Locking the Perentie we took off for the nearest Assay office; Orange. A firm called Geochemists was the place we headed.

Even though it was late, they were still open.

Dumb me. I had to ask the obvious.

“Still open?”

“Yes.”

Dumb question number two.

“I need to bring in some gold. Okay?”

The man behind the desk said, “It’s what we do.”

“Right.”

We started to unload.

“Is that single source mineral?”

“Yeah.”

“Unless you want to sell it we can test as little as a gram,” he said.

“There is a ten dollar fee.”

“If we sell ... how much?”

“We’re restricted to yesterday’s SPOT. Everyday we have to go by yesterdays price.”

I hauled out a handful ... probably weighed a half a kilo. It didn’t make much of a dent in the bag. “Test this.”

“Representative sample?”

“It’s all pretty much like that.”

He didn’t have to take it in a back room. He tested it in front of our eyes.

“This is pretty pure. Close to 99 fine.” he said. “There’s a tiny bit of quartz but the sample is jewelry quality.”

Dumb question number three.

“What’s that mean?”

“You could get more cash selling individual nuggets to a Jewelry Store. There’s one just down the street.”

I gave that a blink.

“I do have to warn you...” he hesitated.

“Go on.”

He opened a pamphlet from a stack on the counter and began to read:

“According to the maxim “to whomsoever the soil belongs, he owns also to the sky and to the depths”, there is a presumption that a land owner also owns all minerals on or beneath the surface of that land. The presumption is subject to the exception of the Royal metals. As early as the sixteenth century, the common law has held that all gold and silver, whether situated on public or private land, has been owned by the Crown. This Royal prerogative has also been applied in Australia, by both common law and legislation.”

“Shit!” I snatched a like pamphlet off the counter and began to read.