another eighteen for fractures—nineteen, counting Lieutenant Strong.” Her eyes, sharp and unfriendly, flicked in Lee's direction. “The pain has subsided, yes?”
Before Lee could nod and lift his splinted hand in thanks, Iseult was finishing her report. “First degree burns and other, minor traumas—I don't even have a final count on those yet.”
Perlenmann nodded toward the man next to her. “Mr. Parsons?”
Parsons shifted his blocky frame, stared down at his coffee bulb, and wiped a greasy hand on the front of his faded gray coveralls. He didn't seem in a hurry to answer, or to be particularly impressed with Perlenmann's authority.
A faint German accent intruded upon Perlenmann's otherwise perfect diction; “Your report, Mr. Parsons.” Parsons now sounded like Parsuntz.
Parsons shrugged. “My report? Okay, here's my report. The casualties were predominantly fuel ops techs. All Upsiders. All my people.” There was a distinct tone of accusation in Parsons' voice.
“As I understand it, Mr. Parsons, there were also half a dozen flight technicians and two environmental maintenance workers in the processing area when the explosion occurred, all of whom sustained some level of injury. All Dirtsiders. I therefore doubt that this explosion was targeted specifically against your personnel.”
Lee stopped in mid-drink; a targeted explosion? Terrorism? Sabotage? Here too?
Parsons' face was split by a humorless grin. “Perlenmann, if you weren't such a book-loving Green, sometimes I'd swear you were in cahoots with the Sols yourself. How can you even doubt they were behind this? It was Sol sabotage, pure and simple.”
Lee put down his coffee bulb with a sharp clack. Eyes turned towards him. “Excuse me, but would somebody mind telling me what the hell is going on at this ‘secure' facility? Specifically, who or what are the ‘Sols'?”
Iseult, Parsons, and Carroll all exchanged brief, awkward glances. Perlenmann seemed to be waiting. In the end it was Parsons who leaned forward, incredulity in his voice. “Don't they tell you guys anything before they send you out here? Oh wait a minute, I forgot. It's beneath a Dirtsider's dignity to learn about Upside.”
Parsons was clearly looking for trouble. Lee held his tongue until he was sure of his resolve not to give it to him. “Mr. Parsons, prior to my assignment to the Gato, I read everything I could about Upsider communities and issues. And you're right, the info we're given on Earth is incomplete and slanted. However, I've been fortunate enough to be included in some Upsider conversations, so I know about some of the less obvious issues, and about political movements like the Spacers.” Parsons blinked. Hah, gotcha. “But I have never heard mention of the Sols, so maybe you'd be kind enough to clue me in.”
Parsons guffawed. “I don't know any way to ‘clue in' an inherently clueless Dirtsider, but I'll give it a try. Ignoring the Greenie administration in charge of this facility,” he glared briefly at Perlenmann, “you've got at least three distinct groups on Callisto. The smallest is made up of Dirtside contract workers. The largest is comprised of Upsiders like me, some of whom are probably undisclosed Spacers. Then you've got Outbounders, who just can't wait to get on their colony ship and abandon us Upsiders to the tender mercy of Earth's Greens and Neo Luddites. It's also possible that you've got a small number of Sols here, who think that Upsiders like me are soft, and that Outbounders are craven traitors.”
Iseult scoffed, looked away. Lee seized the opportunity. “You have a different perspective, Dr. Iseult?”
She turned to look at Lee, apparently trying to decide whether he was worth talking to. Eventually, she shrugged and offered her version. “Many of the personnel here do express one of two primary political sympathies: pro-Upside or pro-Dirtside. However, their differences have never been violent. The great majority of the Upsiders want to stay on Callisto and keep the Outbound operations running. They rightly believe that if it wasn't for the opportunity to send Earth's most wealthy Dirtsider dissidents off to the stars, the Green and Neo Luddite political alliance would probably discontinue all space-based activities altogether.
“The Dirtsiders are the technicians sent here from Earth to carry out the confidential engineering on the colony ships, or the Outbounders themselves. The Outbounders fear the same outcome that the Upsiders do, but rightly believe the way to prevent the closure of Callisto's shipyard is to offer strong support to the mostly moderate Greens of the Earth Union Steering Committee. As long as they stay in power, Callisto stays open and the starships keep leaving.”