The Salvagers by John Michael Godier Page A

bucket brigade to work through the airlock. That way we could seal up the entry hole," I said.
                  "No issues maybe, but still a pain in the ass and a delay," Neil added. "Especially if they're just going to haul the ship back to Earth. Why not study it there? Why do we need to get into engineering to finish the salvage?"
                  He had a good point, and he liked working in moon suits.
                  "It's pristine. We need to document it as it was," answered Sanjay. "Modifications, people working, and movements from towing will destroy information. It's best to be methodical. Besides, the bosses at home want this thing to turn a profit in more ways than one. They want a sensation ready for reporters and the public. They won't want to wait for us to finish a study."
                  He was right too. Ed Iron's response to my report had been little more than a flurry of excited musings about how we were going to unveil the find and squeeze every drop of profit we could from it.
                  "That's true. There's also the fact that we need to find the crew," I said. "It's not in the best taste to haul them back to Earth in a salvaged-for-profit venture. They need to be buried at space, with Ed's public-relations people pumping up how reverently we treated them. They're heroes. He sent coffins and flags for that very reason."
                  The engineers worked for two weeks modifying another small fusion reactor to increase available power. After Neil welded the entry cut closed, we ran a hose from the Hyperion to the Cape Hatteras , pressurizing the derelict quickly. We sealed off the crew quarters and other rooms that didn't need oxygen, using helium to equalize the pressure. It was safe enough to breathe if any leaked.
                  The derelict still had abundant liquid oxygen and nitrogen reserves. Using a spare air recycler from the Hyperion , eventually we intended to open each of the doors and allow the helium to be scrubbed out and new air added. Within a few months we'd have a complete atmosphere on the derelict, with the recycler producing its own oxygen.
                  We would also finally lay the decompression question to rest. If it had been decompressed intentionally, the ship should be airtight, provided that Neil's welds were okay. If it had been an accident, on the other hand, the air escaping through the hole would be immediately apparent. I ordered everyone on the Cape Hatteras to remain suited until we knew for certain. It would be up to me to test the air.
                  "Geezer, I'm reading a breathable atmosphere with no loss of pressure," Neil said, as we floated near the sealed entry cut. We had been monitoring for several hours.
                  "I'm not a geezer. I'm getting younger. I think I noticed gray in your stubble yesterday."
                  "No, you didn't, and if there was it's Stacey's fault," he responded.
                  "Don't mind her. You know she marches to a different drummer. All pilots do."
                  "So do engineers, but at least our drummer has rhythm."
                  "You're just flustered because there aren't any unattached girls on the Hyperion ," I said.
                  "You might be right about that," he said with a chuckle. "All that wisdom you've got comes from being older than the solar system."
                  "Yes, I was salvaging when Earth was a baby."
                  I loved my son. I just wished that he didn't think he was immortal.
                  "Well, here goes," I said, as I flipped the three latches on my helmet and lifted it off. I stood there for a moment breathing while Neil watched my lips for blueness. Even with the warm air from the Hyperion , it was cold enough to see my breath. "Looks good," I said. "I