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It was a small metal box, half-buried in the crawler's muddy ruts. Jack stopped short and looked around. None of the other cleaning crew members seemed to take notice; they just continued down the runway. Jack hopped down into the muck, and examined the box more closely, the rain running down his face.
It was latched shut on four sides. Clearly whatever was inside was meant to be kept secure. There were no markings on the exterior. Just plain metal sides, once shiny, but now scratched and speckled brown with mud. It must have fallen off of a transport.
"Oy, you got a problem, Jack?", called a far away voice from behind him. It was Jack's supervisor, and post-work drinking comrade, Gustav.
"No, problem," Jack called over his shoulder. He was careful to keep his body between the box and Gustav, blocking the other man's view of the mud-caked container. "Just thought I saw something, but it's nothing."
"Ok, so long as you're sure you're firm", Gustav called as he turned to walk away. Then he added with a smirk in his voice, "Let's keep our crawlers moving. I want my tonsils to be drowning in fermahol by the end of the cycle."
Jack cast a glance behind him to make sure his friend had turned his attention back toward his crawler. He scooped up the box and jammed it in his pocket, for closer examination later. He climbed back into his machine and rolled the ball forward with his palm. The crawler surged to life, continuing on his temporarily paused cleaning track. It took both hands to operate the equipment, so the box would have to wait. It spent the rest of his shift hidden away from his grasp, but never far from his thoughts.
Back at the crew hangar, Jack purposely took a bit longer in the decon tank. And he lingered a while in the washdown, so that when he finally made it to the lockers, he was by his lonesome. It was time.
He pulled the box from the top shelf of his unit and slowly unhooked the latches one at a time. As the top loosened, Jack became acutely aware of an intense light seeping through the crack under the lid. He instinctively covered the box with his shirt and hurriedly glanced around. Seeing no one, he slowly relaxed his posture and continued to remove the lid.
Peering inside at the glowing contents, his mouth gaped open, his mind reeling. He couldn't be sure, as he'd never actually seen it in person, but he was pretty sure this was Stardust! But not just Stardust. A lot of Stardust. There had to be 30,000 units easy. Never in his life had he imagined having this much 'dust in his possession.
Where did it come from? Whose was it? Would they come looking for it? His brain raced a thousand thoughts at once. His head ached. He blinked repeatedly and felt his knees go rubbery.
He needed a plan. To figure out his next move. What does a crew cleaner do when unimaginable wealth is dropped into his lap?
Jack hurried to get dressed. He knew he'd be missed if he lingered any longer. He secured the latches and gently placed the treasure in his knap. With a grin, he turned to exit the locker room. He didn't know what came next, but he aimed to figure it out. With this thought in his head, he stepped out the door to begin the rest of his life.
