Winning Mars | Page 8

was this Evan guy? Who was he? Jere whispered
commands into his throatmike and gasped at the inferred wealth and
swarmstrength of the man who sat across from him. He was at least as
big as his father.
A brief, acid surge of anger: Another fucking almighty, another parasite
living off spoils from another age.
"You're asking me to risk my network? While you sit there comfortably,
almighty, still living off the interest from a previous life?"
"I'm prepared to throw in."
Realistic and ballsy. And maybe the source of funds his father couldn't
be.
"How much?"
Evan looked at him with those lead eyes. "Everything."

"It's never everything."
"I'll sign a personal guarantee."
Jere nodded. "What's the bottom line?"
Evan changed the slide. Jere gasped. The total was $1.1 billion. Even in
the days of the inflationary dollar, that was ridiculous. Especially when
you were buying something that had to earn itself out. And more. It
wasn't real estate, where you could just pay forever. "You need funding
like a first-run Interactive for a free-access linear."
"The cost is really quite low. The Russians have some new tech that
will keep the cost way down. Hell, I remember seeing bottom-lines of
thirty, forty times this for shoestring missions back when."
Back when you were what? A kid? Playing with dinosaurs? Jere
wondered.
Evan saw his disbelief. "It'll earn out. The sponsors will line up."
"Why?"
"Your logo. On Mars. Maybe a featurette on how you helped build one
of the transpos, or fund the food and bev, or just just how you're a
visionary, opening the new frontier. This is the biggest thing that's ever
happened to entertainment. In the history of entertainment. Come on!"
"Sponsors don't like one-shots."
"So tell them this is the first of many. Tell them we're going to mine the
asteroids. Tell them we're going to storm the Chinese on the moon!"
"That's not funny."
"You know what I mean. The spin. You got it. I've seen you on the
screen. You're the one who could make this work."
It was crazy. It was stupid. And it was, more than likely, impossible.

But it was an idea. It was a big idea. And it just might be enough to get
the attention of people jaded by the 'Actives. It might be enough to
spike Neteno's growth, once again.
Wouldn't that be a surprise, to the risk management assholes?
"Reality shows are dead," Jere said.
"It's been over a decade since the last one. It's coal. Time to mine it."
Which was probably true, Jere thought. The way things retroed round
and round, it was probably comfortably new again. And there were
probably millions of people like himself who had caught a glimpse of
the last reality shows and remembered them in a fond way. The data
seemed to say so. And his intuition agreed.
You've taken big chances, he thought. Which is why Neteno was a
rising star amongst dying embers. It's time to take one more.
"Do you think we could get some money from NASA?" Jere said,
finally.
"You're in?"
"How long's the flight?"
"To Mars? Six months there, six months back. As best we can figure."
Evan's eyes darted with manic glee. "We're going to do it?"
"We could run it like a year of programming. A year exclusive. We can
definitely get food and bev sponsors. Start it around Christmas next
year, wrap it up next Christmas."
"Start in June," Evan said. "Remember, six months out. The big show
will be on Mars. You want it to run for Nielsen in December, when
everybody is snug and warm at home."
"Got it," Jere said. "So, what are they supposed to do? The actors?"

"Contestants," Evan said. "So, we're doing it?"
Jere nodded.
Evan did a little jump and victory dance. "Yeah!"
Jere cleared his calendar with a few quick touches and stood up. "Let's
go to lunch. You can give me details. Like just how we're supposed to
pull this off on the cheap."
Evan grinned. "It's Russian tech. The new stuff. You know, the stuff
they do the $250k packages to orbit for a week."
Jere paused at the door. "Now, I'm sure people are gonna die."
As they left, Jere thought, A whole year. An exclusive for a year. Some
of the brands of the first and second great internet booms were made on
less than that.
A new foundation, to build Neteno even higher.

Getaway
Patrice Klein thought the thing with Jere was over. Thought it, but
didn't feel it. That little tickle in the back of her mind, that little facial
overlay when she was out to dinner with a boring date, or even in bed
with another man. That niggling doubt, Is he the one?
Not that,