The first part of the morning was spent insuring that the caverns were sound. Impatience might make him miss something, and even walls as old as these left hundreds of chemical and structural clues. What ever possible riches lay in waiting now, Omad was sure of one thing-he would be the first to find them. It had been stripped bare, and there was simply no point in keeping it open any longer.

And when this one was closed and forgotten in the late 1800s, it was done so out of prudence. Many a decrepit lead mine had been reopened to turn its once worthless innards into a marketable commodity. More important, the science of mineral transmutation had been born, and some metals were easier to transform from one into another. The technology of mineral extraction had improved greatly in the four centuries since this quarry had been actively worked. Still, it was in these old mines that sometimes one got lucky. Maximum allowable risk for maximum profit, and the risks were real. Though it might take a little longer, this excavation would have to be done carefully and in person. It wasn't the norm, and he'd never have been as successful without corporate sponsorship and equipment, but this was different.

The less of GCI's equipment he used, the less of a percentage they'd be able to claim of his profits. He was walking into a mine on GCI's property that hadn't been worked in centuries, and he was walking in without a corporation mine car or drill-bot. But he quelled his feelings of joy and concentrated on the task at hand. The thought of being able to choose his own vacation times and consume what ever substance he wanted, when he wanted, almost made him too excited to work. Yes, Omad was 100 shares away from controlling himself. He'd just have to pray that his personal valuation wouldn't go over 200 credits a share, and that he'd take home at least 20,000 credits from this venture. Even if his stock price rose, as was often the case with personal success, he could still make majority. His stock was selling for 183 credits a share, and all he needed was one more good find and GCI would owe him enough credits to enable him to buy a majority of himself. Today he'd find something valuable enough to achieve his dream, and achieve it at the respectably early age of sixty-nine.

He was a miner with a knack for finding veins of valuable material even in old, worked-out quarries, and he felt in his bones that today was his day. Though he was filthy from head to toe, bloodied, and his skin shredded as thoroughly as a cat's scratching post, Omad couldn't suppress a grin.

The Unincorporated Man by Dani Kollin