The Sunborn Read Online Free PDF Page A

wasn’t with the Consortium then,” Praknor said, opening her laptop slate and consulting it.
    She went into another carefully phrased opening statement about the need for all levels of the Consortium to cooperate in developing new “revenue avenues.” At this point Julia tuned her out.
    Mars had some resources, but few that were worth shipping to Earth. The first hit was some “Mars jewels” they found in the volcanic layers dotted around Gusev Crater. Pale, with mysterious violet motes embedded in milky teardrops, they commanded huge prices for a few seasons. Some flecked sulfur-laden stones later became fashionable. The perennial sellers were the “blueberries” the ’04 rovers found, just hematite—but Martian hematite, so worth a thousand bucks a gram. Still, novelty only lasts so long.
    Viktor had thought of another sideline, one that Axelrod liked especially. He had systematically rounded up all the parachutes that had slowed the dozens of landers, rovers, and provisions carriers that had landed in Gusev over several decades, ever since the first one at Christmas, 2003. The silky parachutes were seared by ultraviolet and solar wind particles, dirtied with red dust—and made grand T-shirts for the fashionistas on Earth.
    Later, Axelrod cut a deal with several governments and made an even greater profit by returning to Earth the original rovers and landers still standing on the surface. These went to museums and private collectors. “Think of it as being able to buy the Niña, the Pinta, or the Santa María, ” went one of the glossy upscale brochures.
    Some lesser billionaires had bought heat shields and other pieces discarded in the era of automated exploration. Apparently they made handsome “found techno-art” displays in the entrance foyers of big corporations. Then Axelrod sold off the Original Four’s actual pressure suits, their houseware (“Dine as they did!”), even their worn-out flight jackets, T-shirts, and jeans. Raoul had reported in a letter that at a cocktail party reception a man had come up to him and proudly pointed out that he was wearing the very loafers that Raoul had used in the hab. They did not go well with the tux he was wearing, but the man didn’t seem to care.
    Julia kept her distance as much as possible. At first she had been cheerful about the whole commercialization thing, but Axelrod’s relentless marketing wore her down. Even hundreds of millions of kilometers away, it got to her. She clearly recalled unwrapping supply drone packages and finding plastic supermuscled action figures that bore caricatures of her and Viktor’s faces. Then there was the movie, miscast and scripted by writers who mostly knew four-letter words but no science. The animation series had been no better. Julia recalled all that in a flash, studying Praknor’s assured manner, and wondered what would come next.
    “The jewels are still a steady item, but my main effort will be to supervise more studies on the…” Here Praknor slowed, eyes flicking from Viktor to her slate, and Julia knew what she was going to say.
    “Mars Effect,” Julia finished for her.
    “Uh, yes, I—”
    “Does not exist,” Viktor said.
    “Our data—”
    “Comes from good healthy lifestyle,” Viktor said, following the line they had agreed on. “Plenty work, exercise, light diet, clean air. Also, we were picked because of good health and physical condition. Plus smarts.”
    Praknor said, “For years there was excess hydrogen sulfide in the agro domes where you two worked.”
    Viktor dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “All filtered out now.”
    “Before its effects were properly studied,” Praknor said exactly, “in coordinated trials.”
    “Stunk, was its effect,” Viktor said.
    “You’re not suggesting that hydrogen sulfide confers a health benefit, are you?” Julia asked. Her first experience of high school chemistry had been an experiment that made those rotten-egg fumes. She’d laundered her