The others weren’t really breathing down his neck. But they did struggle against the curiosity which made them crowd about the engineer as he worked to open the cylinder.
“It’s too light for an explosive,” Hogan repeated for about the fiftieth time since they had unloaded their find before the star ship.
At a good vantage point up on the ramp Carlee Skort and Trude Harmon sat together while the men below tried to hand Cully tools he didn’t need and generally got in each other’s way. But now they had come to the last moment of suspense. After more than an hour’s work the engineer had been able to force open the small seal hatch.
Cully bumped heads with Kimber and Kordov as he flashed a torch beam into the interior. Then, with infinite care, he began to hand out to eager assistants a series of boxes, small round containers and a larger, ornamented chest. All these were fashioned of the same lightweight alloy as the large carrier and they appeared unmarked by time.
“Cargo carrier,” Kimber decided. “What can be in these?” He held one of the smallest boxes to his ear and shook it cautiously, but there was no answering rattle.
Kordov picked up the chest, examining its fastening carefully. At last he shook his head and brought out a pocket knife, working the blade into the crevice between lid and side, using it to lever up the cover.
Soft creamy stuff puffed up as the pressure of the lid was removed, fluffing over the rim. The First Scientist plucked it carefully away in strips. As the late afternoon sun struck full on the contents which had been protected by that packing, there was a concerted gasp from the Terrans.
“What are they?” someone demanded.
Kordov picked up a fine intwisted strand, dangling its length in the light.
“Opals?” he suggested. “No, these are too hard, cut in facets. Diamonds? I don’t think so. I confess I have never seen anything like them before.”