Twenty-Nine #2
HR representative Vale Morgan leaned forward determinedly in front of Martim.
“I’ll put together a schedule today for the distribution of compensation to their next of kith.
We’ll have crisis counseling readily available for the whole division.
I’ll work with the EMHA developers to push out a module as soon as possible. ”
“If you could keep me in the loop on the release timing for that, Morgan, I’ll be sure to include it in division-wide communication,” said Birch Yong from Internal Relations.
“And send me the personnel files of the victims so I can get my people working on press profiles about them. If we aim for a public memorial ceremony in—what, let’s say, end of next week?
—then we need to move quickly if we’re hoping to interview relatives and colleagues. ”
Several other suggestions were quickly made about how to commemorate the victims—the “Thirty-One Strong,” as Yong immediately began calling them—the brave individuals who, in the face of one of the worst insurrections in decades, had barricaded the control room of the facility from rioters and continued to operate Gas Field 93 from under siege.
It was impressive, Martim thought, how quickly the mood in the boardroom changed—from the muted, fearful anticipation hanging over the meeting when he’d first walked in, to the serious but energized sense of time-to-get-shit-done .
That feeling was what Martim liked most about SoCon GasPro.
People who worked under Sandbar Uchi didn’t fold under pressure.
They were tough and frighteningly competent. They needed to be.
“Good, good,” the director said, gesturing for the ideas to keep flowing as he took a large swallow of his nutrition shake.
He had ironclad health habits that even a crisis couldn’t disrupt.
“Those wagefolk are heroes. We’ll spare no expense when it comes to recognizing and rewarding them for epitomizing our division’s highest values. ”
“What about the strikers?”
Heads turned toward the voice of Fox Wilson, the subdirector of Risk Management.
Wilson was a gruff, heavyset, permanently scowling man who no one really liked, but who everyone in the division appreciated, because he was someone Sandbar Uchi respected for his willingness to call out issues without compunction, even when that meant standing up to the director himself.
“The majority of those who died in Field 93 were acting illegally. Sure, some were strike organizers and others were no doubt agitators and anarchists from United Freelancers, but the rest were former wagemen of SoCon GasPro who left their positions and joined the strike.”
“Those who joined the obstructionists gave up their badges,” said Vale Morgan.
“Do you think that means their deaths won’t be noticed?
That there won’t be an outpouring of sympathy for them?
” Wilson sat back with crossed arms, shaking his head as if to suggest all his colleagues in the room were fools.
“Anti-terraformists are going to waste no time turning those strikers into martyrs. If the blockade had forced them to capitulate, it would’ve barely been news.
Instead, this disaster’s going to be the beginning of something much worse. ”
A moment of uneasy silence followed Wilson’s pronouncement. Martim took charge of the conversation once more by turning to the field boss on his left. “Cole, your field’s closest to 93. Are you concerned?”
Seabream Cole shifted uncomfortably at the sudden attention.
“I’ve already doubled shifts for supers and brought on more security gencons.
Maybe Wilson’s right about this stirring up more rebellion, but an airshield coming down…
That’ll put the fear of the Vastness into anyone.
Take the strike fever right out of them.
No one wants another Prosperity Revolt.”
A few other field bosses chimed in with agreement to say that the insurrection in Field 93, which had dragged on for forty-eight days despite a Company blockade meant to force the rebellion’s organizers to the negotiating table, had initially galvanized some discontented elements in their own parts of the division, but sympathy for the obstructionists had waned rapidly over the course of the holdout.
Although news of the shocking tragedy was still fresh, none of the field bosses thought an echo strike was imminent.
Creek Rahul, the head of Gas Field Security, promised to bring on more resources to maintain a state of high alert and to provide twice-daily updates on any possible threat to operations.
Uchi listened to his subordinates with visibly growing unhappiness, frowning and noisily unwrapping his nutrition bar.
It was clear that he loathed the idea of anyone using the tragedy as justification or motivation to cause even more harm to his already-reeling division.
“Those strikers were reckless—absolutely, unforgivably reckless ,” he declared, slamming his empty shake bottle on the table.
“What happened tonight was an accident —a truly horrific accident, but let’s never forget that it wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for how the obstructionists acted with a complete, criminal disregard for life.
If there’s any blame to be placed, it’s squarely on them. ”
“Not everyone is going to see it that way, Uch,” cut in Wilson.
There were only a few people in the Company who could take such a familiar and challenging tone with the director of SoCon GasPro, but Wilson and Uchi went way back, to their days together in Field Tech.
“We all know there are plenty of folks who’d love to see you take the fall for this.
We’re headed for the hotseat of a massive Company investigation. Aren’t we, Ryla?”
Grass Ryla, the Policy Compliance expert, was a diminutive young woman with fashion spectacles balanced on a pert, upturned nose.
Her looks were deceiving; the division’s top lawyer was anything but fragile.
“Wil’s right,” she said coolly. “When the blockade was first ordered, there was discussion of the risk of a breakdown in core life support systems, and we deemed the risk as necessary. You gave repeated orders to our remaining wagefolk in Field 93 to defend the control center from takeover, by any means necessary , in your own words, up to and including overriding safety limits to cut off heat, water, and electricity to the buildings under rebel control. There’s no question that some of the risk factors that might’ve contributed to the accident were because of actions we took to try to end the strike. ”
“What are you saying, Ryla?” Uchi demanded. “That those decisions were wrong?”
“No, of course not, but they are going to be scrutinized. Very closely,” Ryla replied.
“Nowadays, the likelihood of a catastrophic airshield failure is low, unless negligence or tampering is involved. We know the obstructionists are to blame; they committed flagrant acts of sabotage to try to force the Company’s hand.
But there are politically motivated individuals who’re going to do their damnedest to pin the responsibility squarely on you, sir. ”
Wilson added, “We can fight allegations that come up in an official hearing, but the court of public opinion is another matter. There’s no way to disprove rumors about what you might or might not have known or done.”
Uchi’s expression darkened as if a shadow passed over it. Apprehension began curdling in the pit of Martim’s empty stomach. A storm warning, as Thea had put it.
Martim braced himself for an outburst, but Uchi only said, with sober resignation, “You’re right, Wil.
There’s going to be a lot of political spin and finger pointing.
I expect terrible things are going to be said about me.
After all the decades I’ve given to the Company, if my career goes down in flames because of this and I’m forced to take the final walk, so be it. ”
The director placed his hands on the table and half rose from his seat, his expression burning with conviction.
“But not for a single moment do I regret any of the difficult decisions we made as a leadership team. We’re not like any other division.
We’re Southern Continent Gas Production .
We’re the vanguard of the terraforming effort—a vision passed down by our ancestors and a reality owed to our descendants.
I never have and never will allow the angry entitlement of an extreme minority to jeopardize the crucial work that we do.
” Uchi pointed around the table. “After what happened tonight—and I understand if you’re shaken; we all are—if anyone in this room has regrets or hesitations about continuing to work here, or working for me, then now’s the time to say so.
I’ll approve your transfer request myself.
But if you decide to stay, then I ask for one thing—that you keep faith in our mission. ”
And faith in me as your leader. The unspoken but unquestioned implication, because Sandbar Uchi was fast becoming the public face of the terraformist cause.
Silence. Martim watched the faces around the room closely.
A few people shifted in their seats and looked to their colleagues, but no one got up.
“Calm down, Uch.” Fox Wilson leaned back, arms crossed. “You know we’re all with you.”
“Wilson, Ryla,” Martim said, “let’s set up a meeting later today to talk about a defense strategy.”
Uchi sat back down. “I don’t want to talk about that anymore. Let people say what they’re going to say.”