Artemis by Andy Weir Read Free Book Online Page A

but the interesting part is how they pay for it.”
    He pulled a rock from his pocket. Wasn’t much to look at—just a gray, jagged lump like all the other lunar rocks I’d ever seen. He tossed it toward me. “Here. Have some anorthite.”
    “Yay, a rock.” I plucked it out of the air as it approached. “Thanks.”
    “It’s made of aluminum, oxygen, silicon, and calcium. Smelting separates it into those base elements. They sell the aluminum—that’s the whole point. And they sell the silicon to glassmakers and the calcium to electricians for next to nothing—mainly to get rid of it. But there is one by-product that’s incredibly useful: oxygen.”
    “Yeah, and that’s what we breathe. I know.”
    “Yeah, but did you know Sanchez gets free power in exchange for that oxygen?”
    He had me there. “Really?”
    “Yup. It’s a contract that goes back to the early days of Artemis. Sanchez makes our air, so Artemis gives Sanchez as much power as they want—completely free of charge.”
    “They don’t have to pay an electric bill? Ever?”
    “As long as they keep making oxygen for the city, that’s right. And power is the most expensive part of smelting. There’s just no way I can compete. It’s not fair.”
    “Oh, poor billionaire,” I said. “Maybe you should have some moors installed so you can pine on them.”
    “Yeah, yeah, rich people are evil blah, blah, blah.”
    I emptied my glass. “Thanks for the scotch. Why am I here?”
    He cocked his head and looked at me. Was he carefully choosing his words? Trond never did that.
    “I hear you failed your EVA exam.”
    I groaned. “Does
everyone
in town know about that? Do you all meet up and talk about me when I’m not around or something?”
    “It’s a small town, Jazz. I keep my ear to the ground.”
    I slid my glass over to him. “If we’re going to talk about my failures, I’ll want another scotch.”
    He passed me his full glass. “I want to hire you. And I want to pay you a lot.”
    I perked up. “Well, okay then. Why didn’t you open with that? What do you need smuggled in? Something big?”
    He leaned forward. “It’s not smuggling. It’s an entirely different enterprise. I don’t know if it’s even in your comfort zone. You’ve always been honest—at least with me. Do I have your word that this will stay between us? Even if you turn down the job?”
    “Of course.” One thing I picked up from Dad: Always keep your bargains. He worked within the law and I didn’t, but the principle was the same. People will trust a reliable criminal more readily than a shady businessman.
    “That power-for-oxygen deal is the only thing standing between me and the aluminum industry. If Sanchez stops supplying oxygen, they’ll be in breach of contract. Then I’ll step in and offer to take it over. Same deal: free oxygen for free power.”
    “Where would you get the oxygen?” I asked. “You don’t have a smelter.”
    “No rule says it has to be smelted. The city doesn’t give a shit where the oxygen comes from, so long as it comes.” He steepled his fingers. “For the last four months, I’ve been collecting oxygen and storing it away. I have enough to supply the entire city’s needs for over a year.”
    I raised an eyebrow. “You can’t just take city air and keep it. That’s monumentally illegal.”
    He waved his hand dismissively. “Please. I’m not an idiot. I bought the oxygen fair and square. I have standing contracts with Sanchez for regular deliveries.”
    “You’re buying oxygen from Sanchez so you can take over the oxygen contract from Sanchez?”
    He smirked. “They make so much oxygen the entire city doesn’t breathe it fast enough. They sell it cheap to anyone who wants it. I bought it slowly, over time, through various shell businesses so no one would know I’m hoarding.”
    I pinched my chin. “Oxygen is pretty much the definition of flammable. How’d you get the city to let you store so much?”
    “I