Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Earth coins." "Oh, that. Sure, I remember—Hey! You didn't!" "Yes. We made about a billion dollars on that one." A hayseed Martian among big-planet slickers ... of course 'What mysterious knowledge did the Old Martians possess? What was to a select few—' That's our largest dollar-earning enterprise." only hope. I've been wondering, maybe we could organize a Martian bucket shop, handling Martian securities, but—well, I don't know." Doran's thin sharp face grinned. "You break that date, Peri. Put it off or something. I got this Martian for you, see?" "So? Since when has all Mars had as much spending money as one big-time marijuana rancher? Not to mention the heir ap—" "Sure, sure. But how much are those boys going to spend on any girl, even a high-level type like you? Listen, I need you just for tonight, see? This Martian is strictly from gone. He is here on official Three generations on Mars might lengthen the legs and expand the chest through the Martian atmosphere shuddered from the racket conducted by Earth's. The passport official seemed to bellow at him. "Pardon me for asking this. The United Protectorates welcome all visitors to Earth and I assure you, sir, an ordinary five-year visa provokes no questions. But since you came on an official courier boat of your planet, Mr. Matheny, regulations force me to ask your business." "Well—recruiting." Mars, would they?" citizenship on Earth to live in the Republic. But we only wanted to hire——uh, I mean engage—an, an advisor. We're not businessmen. We know our export trade hasn't a chance among all your corporations he asked himself in a surge of homesickness. What the hell is the Martian Embassy here for? his mineral collection, a faculty poker party on Tenthday night and an occasional trip to Swindletown— greatest commercial empire the human race has ever seen, and I'm supposed to find my planet a con man! Mars had such machines. If ever. customary form of challenge on Mars. Here, though, they simply pushed "You're from Mars, aren't you?" he asked in the friendliest tone a Martian. I am very interested." "There aren't many of us on Earth," agreed Matheny. "Just a small embassy staff and an occasional like me." "I should think you would do a lot of traveling here. The old mother planet and so on." "We can't afford it," said Matheny. "What with gravitation and distance, such voyages are much too expensive for us to make them for pleasure. Not to mention our dollar shortage." As they entered the shaft, he added wistfully: "You Earth people have that kind of money, at least in your more prosperous brackets. Why don't you send a few tourists to us?" "I always wanted to," said Doran. "I would like to see the what they call City of Time, and so on. As a matter of fact, I have given my it's a crime to sell such scientifically priceless artifacts, but what can we do? We must live, and the tourist trade is almost nonexistent." "Trouble with it is, I hear Mars is not so comfortable," said Doran. "I air to keep a man alive. And there are no cities, just little towns and villages and ranches out in the bush. I mean you are being pioneers and making a new nation and all that, but people paying half a megabuck for their ticket expect some comfort and, uh, you know." to make a world of dust and sand and scrub thorn into fields and woods and seas. We can't do it without substantial help from Earth, equipment and supplies—which can only be paid for in Earth dollars—and we can't export enough to Earth to earn those dollars." "Huh? But they make thyle right on Mars, don't they?" "Yes. And it all goes to Earth and sells at 2000 dollars a fifth. But you don't think we'd been paid on a bottle, and the Earth wholesaler and jobber and sales Earth taxes—there's very little profit going back to the distillery on Mars. The same principle is what's strangling us on everything. Old Martian artifacts aren't really rare, for instance, but freight charges and the middlemen here put them out of the mass market." "Have you not got some other business?" "Well, we do sell a lot of color slides, postcards, baggage labels and so on to people who like to act cosmopolitan, and I understand our travel posters are quite popular as wall decoration. But all that has to be printed on Earth, and the printer and distributor keep most of the money. We've sold some books and show tapes, of course, but only one has been really successful— I Was a Slave Girl on Mars . "Our most prominent novelist was co-opted to ghostwrite that one. never have been protected the way a businessman is. We do make a high percentage of profit on those little certificates you see around—you know, the title deeds to one square inch of Mars—but expressed absolutely, in dollars, it doesn't amount to much when we start shopping for bulldozers and thermonuclear power plants." "How about postage stamps?" inquired Doran. "Philately is a big business, I have heard." "It was our mainstay," admitted Matheny, "but it's been overworked. Martian stamps are a drug on the market. What we'd like to operate is a sweepstakes, but the anti-gambling laws on Earth forbid that." Doran whistled. "I got to give your people credit for enterprise, anyway!" He fingered his mustache. "Uh, pardon me, but have you tried to, well, attract capital from Earth?" "Of course," said Matheny bitterly. "We offer the most liberal concessions in the Solar System. Any little mining company or transport firm or—or anybody—who wanted to come and actually invest a few as security. No, the Minister of Ecology has a better-looking one. But who's interested? We haven't a thing that Earth hasn't got more hope to get from Mars?" "The only beer on Mars comes forty million miles, with interplanetary Martian. entertain quite a bit." Doran's brows lifted a few minutes of arc. "You're here on business, then?" "Yes. I told you we haven't any tourists. I was sent to hire a business manager for the Martian export trade." "What's wrong with your own people? I mean, Pete, it is not your fault there are so many rackets—uh, taxes—and middlemen and agencies and et cetera. That is just the way Earth is set up these days." top. "Exactly. And who set it up that way? Earthmen. We Martians are babes in the desert. What chance do we have to earn dollars on the Earthman himself. Let him tell us what will appeal to your people, and how to dodge the tax bite and—and—well, you see how it goes, that York. Plus his retirement benefits, which he would lose if he quit where he is now at. And I am sure he would not want to settle on Mars business consultant and it was barely possible that he could arrange some contacts.... "No, no, no commission, all done in the interest of interplanetary Mars really needs, get me?—is a confidence man." "You are from Mars. Okay? So you fought bushcats barehanded in an "Well, you see, maybe a man like that is just what Mars does need. And They had instructed him on Mars to take chances if he must. operating con games." "On Mars, you mean?" "Yes. There never were any Old Martians. We erected the ruins fifty manufacturing relics ever since." " Huh? haul," said Matheny. "Not many Terrestrial archeologists get to Mars and they depend on our people to—Well, anyhow—"

<question>:
What are some of the current industries on Mars?

<options>:
A Artifacts, Distilled spirits, Media
B Tourism, Collectibles, Distilled spirits
C Mining, Media, Artifacts
D Postage stamps, Mining, Tourism

<answer>:

A