The man leaned forward, his eyes intent. It cannot become known that I am supporting this organization. They‘ll kick me off the board the moment they learn of it, and your source of inside information on the Niniltna Native Association will dry up.

I understand.

He gestured around the table. I know these guys. I don‘t know you. If there‘s a leak, I‘m going to figure it came from you. I won‘t be happy about that. McKenzie met his eyes without flinching. There won‘t be any leaks. All right. Demetri Totemoff opened his checkbook. Fifty thousand to start sound okay?

Gold.

Number 79 on the periodic table. Au, from the Latin aurum

There are only an estimated 42 metric tons left to be mined from the earth‘s crust. With annual world production of gold ore at nearly 2,500 metric tons, only seventeen years of gold mining remain.

Hurry, hurry, grab up the last of it before someone else gets to it first. Quick, carve away the surface, lay on the chemicals, separate the ore from the slag. Drill your holes, build your dams, force the hard earth to yield up the soft gold it holds so close and so dear.

Mine it, refine it, sell it.

Gold to airy thinness beat.

Gold.