Free The Sam Gunn Omnibus by Ben Bova

“reported” by anchorpersons in Orlando who had
never been to the Moon.
    It took her nearly a year to work up the courage to tell her new boss
about her idea of doing a biography of Sam Gunn.
    “I’ve heard of him,” said her boss, a middle-aged woman named Monica
Bianco. “Some sort of a con man, wasn’t he? A robber baron?”
    Although Monica affected a veneer of newsroom cynicism, she could not hide
her basic good nature from Jade for very long. The two women had much in common
in addition to their jobs. Monica had come to Selene to escape pollution
allergies that left her gasping helplessly more than half the year on Earth.
When Jade confided that she could never go to Earth, her boss broke into tears
at the memory of all she had been forced to leave behind. The two of them
became true friends after that.
    Monica was good-looking despite her years, Jade thought. She admitted to
being over forty, and Jade wondered just how far beyond the Big Fou r -Oh she really was. Not that it mattered much.
Especially in Selene, where men still outnumbered women by roughly three to one.
Monica was a bit heavier than she ought to be, but her ample bosom and cheerful
disposition kept lots of men after her. She confessed to Jade that she had been
married twice. “I buried one and dumped the other,” she said, without a trace
of remorse. “Both bastards. I just seem to pick rotten SOBs for myself.”
    Jade had nothing to confess beyond the usual teenager’s flings. So she
told Monica what she knew of Sam Gunn and asked how she might get the
decision-makers of Solar News to assign her to do a biography.
    “Forget it, honey,” advised Monica. “The only ideas they go for are the
ones they think up for themselves—or steal from somebody they envy. Besides,
they’d never let an inexperienced pup like you tackle an assignment like that.”
    Jade felt her heart sink. But then Monica added, “Unless ...”
    So several weeks later Jade found herself at dinner with Monica and Jim
Gradowsky, the Solar News office chief. They sat at a cozy round table in a
quiet corner of the R i storante de la
Luna. Of Selene’s five eating establishments, the Ristorante was acknowledged
to be the best bargain: lots of good food at modest prices. It was Jumbo Jim
Gradowsky’s favorite eatery.
    Monica wore a black skirt and blouse with a scooped neckline. At Monica’s
insistence, Jade had spent a week’s salary on a glittering green sheath that
complemented her eyes. Now that she saw the checkered tablecloths and dripping
candles, though, she thought that Monica had overdressed them both.
    Gradowsky, who showed up in a wrinkled short-sleeved shirt and baggy
slacks, did not seem to notice what they were wearing. He was called Jumbo Jim
because of his girth. But never to his face.
    “So you can never go Earthside,” Gradowsky was saying through a mouthful
of coniglio cacciatore. His open-collared
shirt was already stained and sprinkled with the soup and salad courses.
    “It’s a bone condition,” Jade replied. “Osteopetrosis.”
    Gradowsky took a tiny roasted rabbit leg in one big hand. Red gravy
dripped onto his lap. “Isn’t that what little old ladies get? Makes ‘em stoop
over?”
    “That’s osteoporosis,” Jade corrected. “The bones get soft with age. I’ve
got just the opposite problem. My bones are too brittle. They’d snap under a
full Earth gravity. They call it Marble Bones.”
    He shook his head and dabbed at the grease around his mouth with a
checkered napkin. “Gee, that’s too bad. I could go back Earthside if I wanted
to, but the medics say I’d hafta to lose forty-fifty pounds first.”
    Jade made a sympathetic noise.
    “You know, Jim,” said Monica, sitting on his other side, “Jade here’s got
a terrific idea for a special. If you could sell it back in Orlando it’d be
quite a feather in your cap.”
    “Yeah? Really?”
    Jade explained her hope to do a biography of Sam Gunn. Gradowsky was obviously
cool to