Arctic Drift

Lisa contemplated the question for a moment. “I suppose it is possible. I have published papers related to my general research, and there are far-reaching effects. But the fact is, only you, Loren, and Bob were aware of my catalyst breakthrough. Nobody else even knew. It seems hard to believe someone could react so quickly, if they were indeed aware of the discovery.”

Pitt remained silent as Lisa looked out the window for a moment.

“It seems to me that a working means of artificial photosynthesis would have only a positive benefit. I mean, who could possibly be hurt by a reduction in greenhouse gases?”

“Answer that and we have a potential suspect,” Pitt said. He eyed a wheelchair parked along the opposite side of the bed. “When are they going to cut you loose from here?”

“The doctor said tomorrow afternoon, most likely. Not soon enough for me. I’d like to get back to work and write up my findings.”

“You can resurrect the test results?” Pitt asked.

“Conceptually, it’s all still up here,” she said, tapping a finger to her head. “I’ll have to borrow a bit of lab equipment to re-document things, however. That’s providing the Ontario Miners Co-op can come up with another sample of ruthenium.”

“Your source of the mineral?”

“Yes. It’s very costly. The stuff may end up being my downfall.”

“You should be able to obtain more grant money now, I would think.”

“It’s not just the cost of the ruthenium, it’s the actual availability. Bob says it is almost impossible to find.”

Pitt thought a moment, then smiled at Lisa.

“Don’t worry, things will work out. I better not interrupt your convalescence any more. If you need someone to push your wheelchair, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thanks, Dirk. You and Loren have been too kind. As soon as I’m mobile, you two are invited for di

“I can’t wait.”

Pitt made his way back to his car, noting that the time was nearly five-thirty. Following a hunch, he called Loren and told her he would be late, then drove back to the NUMA building. Riding the elevator to the tenth floor, he exited into the heart of the agency’s computer operations. An imposing array of the latest information processors and storage devices held an unequaled repository of data on the world’s oceans. Up-to-the-second current, tide, and weather conditions from satellite-fed sea buoys gave an instant snapshot of every major body of water around the globe. The computer system also housed a mountain of oceanographic research materials, allowing instant access to the latest findings in marine science.

Pitt found a man in a ponytail seated at a large console, arguing with an attractive woman standing a few feet in front of him. Hiram Yaeger was the architect of the NUMA computer center and an expert in database management. Though dressed eclectically in a tie-dyed T-shirt and cowboy boots, Yaeger was a devoted family man who doted on his two teenage daughters. Pitt knew Yaeger always made breakfast for his wife and daughters and often sneaked away to soccer games and concert recitals in the afternoon, making up the lost time during the evening hours.

As Pitt walked near, he marveled, as he always did, that the woman arguing with Yaeger was not real but rather a hologram that looked remarkably three-dimensional. Designed by Yaeger himself as a computer interface to the vast network system, the holographic woman was modeled after his wife and affectionately named Max.

“Mr. Pitt, can you please straighten out Hiram,” Max said, turning toward Pitt. “He doesn’t want to believe me when I tell him a woman’s handbag should match her shoes.”

“I always trust what you have to say,” Pitt replied with a nod.

“Thank you. There you have it,” she turned, lecturing Yaeger.

“Fine, fine,” Yaeger replied, throwing up his hands. “Some help you are in picking out a birthday present for my wife.”

Yaeger turned toward Pitt. “I should never have programmed her to argue like my wife,” he said, shaking his head.

Pitt took a seat next to him. “You wanted her to be as lifelike as possible,” he countered with a laugh.

“Tell me you have something to talk about besides ladies’ fashions,” he pleaded.

“As a matter of fact, I’d like Max to help me with a few mineralogy questions.”

“A welcome change of topics,” Max replied, peering down her nose at Yaeger. “I’m delighted to help you, Director. What is it that you would like to know?”

“For starters, what can you tell me about the mineral ruthenium? ”

Max closed her eyes for a second, then spoke rapidly. “Ruthenium is a transition metal of the platinum group, known for its hardness. Silvery white in color, it is the forty-fourth element, also known by its symbol Ru. The name derives from the Latin word rus, from which Russia originates. A Russian geologist, Karl Klaus, made its discovery in 1844.”

“Are there any unique demands for or uses of the mineral?” Pitt asked.

“Its qualities as a hardener, especially when combined with other elements such as titanium, were highly valued in industry. Supply irregularities have produced a sharp rise in prices recently, forcing manufacturers to turn to other compounds.”

“How expensive can it be?” asked Yaeger.

“It is one of the rarest minerals found on earth. Recent spot market prices have exceeded twelve thousand dollars an ounce.”

“Wow,” Yaeger replied. “That’s ten times the price of gold. Wish I owned a ruthenium mine.”

“Hiram raises a good question,” Pitt said. “Where is the stuff mined? ”

Max frowned for a moment as her computer processors sifted through the databases.

“The supplies are rather unsettled at the moment. South Africa and the Ural Mountains of Russia have been the historical sources for mined ruthenium in the last century. Approximately ten metric tons a year was mined in South Africa from a single mine in Bushveld, but their output peaked in the 1970s and fell to nearly zero by 2000. Even with the run-up in price, they’ve had no new production.”

“In other words, their mines have played out,” Pitt suggested.

“Yes, that is correct. There have been no significant discoveries made in the region in over forty years.”

“That still leaves the Russians,” Yaeger said.

Max shook her head. “The Russian ruthenium came from just two small mines adjacent to each other in the Vissim Valley. Their production had actually peaked back in the 1950s. A severe landslide destroyed and buried both mining operations several years ago. The Russians have abandoned both sites, stating it would take many years to return either mine to operation.”

“No wonder the price is so steep,” Yaeger said. “What’s your interest in the mineral, Dirk?”

Pitt described Lisa Lane’s artificial photosynthesis discovery and the role of ruthenium as a catalyst, along with the explosion in the lab. Yaeger let out a low whistle after digesting the implications.

“That’s going to make an unsuspecting mine owner a rich man,” he said.

“Only if the stuff can be found,” Pitt replied. “Which makes me wonder, Max, where would I go to purchase a bulk quantity of ruthenium?”

Max looked up toward the ceiling. “Let’s see… there are one or two Wall Street precious-commodities brokers that would be able to sell you some for investment purposes, but the quantities available are quite small. I’m only finding a small platinum mine in South America that has trace by-product quantities for sale, which would require further processing. The present known stocks of the mineral appear to be quite meager. The only other publicized source is the Ontario Miners Co-op, which lists a limited quantity of high-grade ruthenium available by the troy ounce.”

“The Co-op is where Lisa obtained her sample,” Pitt stated. “What more can you tell me about it?”

“The Miners Co-op represents independently owned mines across Canada, acting as wholesale outlet for mined ore. Their headquarters is in the town of Blind River, Ontario.”