Great Great Granddad had settled in this forsaken spot in 1849. The saucer shaped valley with its poisonous springs had not attracted any other settlers, but the grand old man; a salt miner from Russia, had recognised the signs. He had begun a small salt mine and had exported salt lick block down to Texas before it was Texas.
The family had prospered and until my father went to war, the dynasty was secure. I was the only issue of a young marriage, mother was a wan widow. All my uncles and aunts had moved to Frisco, they had all died in road accidents, or other accidents, one was murdered. There were no cousins. Granddad always cursed when he heard mention of that fair city.
I was his great hope for the future and he had spared nothing in my education. He had personally taken me to the best brothel in the valley when I had shown my first sign of wet dreams. He had coached me through high school and sent me to the best college. I was now a fully qualified mine engineer and metallurgist. I was 23 fit and dedicated to continue the family line and business.
The business was a salt mine with some side business of waste disposal we had 100 years of man made caves that could safely store anything. The first day as mine engineer saw me below supervising the cut of a new drift. We were to go north against all of Great Great Granddads advice, it was a bad salt area. Any critter that licked a salt block from the northern end of the basin sickened and died in a week. The only good salt was below the 20 cm grey line and to the south.
I had other fish to fry. I had taken a sample of the mines tailing pile and assayed it. It was rich, very rich in trace elements and rare earths the mine tailings were worth more than the mine. I had to find out just how much the bad salt was worth and get virgin samples.
The grey line was easy to see. It was a stark line about 20cm thick as straight as a die slanted to the east by two degrees but the first sample assayed right Thorium, Iridium and significant quantities of Cesium.
I began the new drift Grandfather was delighted with the fruits of my education. We had a special night at the bordello to celebrate the new venture. Rare Earth Inc made its first million in two weeks, selling the old mine tailings to Bethlehem steel. We took on more workers and suddenly the old mine had new life.
I needed new blood, new managers to handle the significant manpower that was required to convert a traditional salt mine that used to employ 10 men into a business with tens of millions turnover in its first year.
I needed Good staff and so began to recruit young people from colleges that I knew, men I had played baseball and football with, college jocks that had reputations as men with brains as well as brawn. I also needed a fast car we were 100 miles from the nearest airport. I had to meet and interview the new team and so I visited the local hot car sales room and here my luck really changed.
Bobbie was stunning, a flaming redhead, trim, taught and absolutely terrific. She could have been in movies, she could have been anything, but she was a car sales woman. Her dad had left her a beat up car sales room with a fuel lot on the main highway. She had turned it into a hot car sales yard. Pontiacs, Firebirds, Porches, Thunderbirds, Cobras, Ferraris. All secondhand, all guaranteed to burn rubber faster than the speed limit. I sat in my first Porsche while she took it through its paces, she was a superb driver. She fish tailed it, she gunned it to max revs in first and second while I waited for my stomach to catch up. She took me into the Bad Lands and demonstrated how well it cornered.
She threw out the anchor and we shuddered to a halt on the edge of our saltpan. "It is also a great bird-catching device," she told me. She demonstrated the sunroof great headroom. "Want to try it?"
