2074 - Space Corps Central Command Office
When Harlow felt better, he collected himself and returned to his office. There was still a dull, throbbing ache above his forehead, though, as well as a faint tremor in his hands that wouldn’t settle no matter how much he tried to steady them.
The organization which had so vehemently rejected him in his youth now wanted him to be their leader, but he was wary of their intentions. His only purpose, he suspected, would be to take the blame for the Council’s failures while reaping none of the rewards.
He didn’t need anyone to tell him this; he was already well aware. However, someone took it upon themselves to do so anyway.
“David!” he heard a shout from the hallway.
He jumped, then looked up from where he sat at his desk to see General Howard approaching.
“You’ve got to decline that nomination right now,” Howard said as he stormed in and slammed the door closed behind him. “You can’t agree to this.”
“Christ, Howard, what’s gotten into you?” Harlow asked. He sounded as tired as he felt, and lacked the energy to entertain such outbursts at the moment. Howard had never been one to shy away from voicing his opinion, but this lack of decorum was out of character even for him, and he looked positively frantic as he crossed the room.
“Turn it down,” Howard replied. “Nothing good can come of this.”
“What makes you say that?” Harlow asked. “And even more importantly, what makes you think you can intrude in my space in such a manner, and dictate my course of action? I respect you, Howard, but you’ve got no right.”
“I’m aware, but if there was ever a time to skip the pleasantries, it’s now.” Howard stopped in front of the desk. “I’m begging you, as your mentor, former educator, and friend, to do what’s right. And lest you question my motives, this is all coming from a place of concern. I’m looking out for you, just as I always have, but if you take this role, the threats you’ll be facing there will be beyond even my ability to manage. I can only protect you so much, and I’m one of the few who’s even going to try.”
Harlow shook his head and looked away. He tried to form a response, but words simply wouldn’t come. He wouldn’t have been afforded much of an opportunity even if they had, though, because Howard wasn’t through.
“You trust me, don’t you?” Howard asked as he began pacing about the room. “This promotion wasn’t offered in good faith, and you know it. They’ve never treated you right—that Council doesn’t hold you in high regard, and they’re not going to start now. Tell me, why do you think the same officers who threw you out as a cadet now want you to lead them?”
Harlow sighed. “I have my suspicions, Howard, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“Damn right, I am. The Council’s grown nervous. The state of the war isn’t reflecting well on them, and they don’t want to face the scrutiny to inevitably come, should they concede a loss. Someone’s got to be held accountable for their incompetence, and it’ll probably be whoever’s tasked with supervising them. It’s very telling, isn’t it, that they’ve all harped on for years about wanting the prestige of this position, but they’ve suddenly chosen to give it to you. None of them will touch it, and that’s because they think it could land them in serious trouble. I’m warning you—get out now, while you still can.”
Harlow shook his head. “If I leave, they’ll just find someone worse. Wittenauer was lambasted for never doing anything, but in a way, I’m grateful, because I shudder to think what someone with a taste for power would’ve done in that seat. Not only that, but I’m finally in a position to enact real change. I’m not giving it up, Howard—not until, as you once said, this place is in a better state.”
“David,” he whispered, “that was a long time ago, and I was saying it from a much better position than you’re in now. I always had an exit plan in place, should things become truly dire. Tell me, what’s yours?”
Harlow shrugged, because he had nothing to say.
“Make one, then, or they’ll make it for you. In fact, I suspect they already have. Turning this place around is an ambitious goal, when merely holding that seat for more than a year will put you ahead of most of your predecessors. This war is different; it’s churning through officers, generals, and even chiefs of staff faster than we can replace them. Not even the Council’s safe, yet they’ve shown zero interest in stopping it. I’m begging you to reconsider, for the sake of your own health and safety, if nothing else.”
Harlow frowned. “What do you mean ‘zero interest in stopping it?’ We’ve just entered a new round of peace talks, and they’re reportedly making progress. Unless you’re suggesting it’s all just for show . . .”
Howard stopped pacing. “The fact that you uttered that sentence means you know the truth; you just don’t want to admit it.” He drew a long, slow breath. “If they wanted this war to be over, it would be. We could’ve withdrawn from this conflict long ago—incurring substantial losses and criticism, to be sure—but it was always an option. The harsh reality, of which I know you’re well aware, is that the Council simply doesn’t want to. Every now and then they have to make a pretense of being effective leaders, so they allow some half-measure to pass in order to make it look as if they’re doing something, but they’re not. Now, though, the consequences of those choices have finally started coming due, and they’re afraid. But they’ll never be victims of their own moral failings, and they’ve gone to great lengths to ensure it. This will all be pinned on you somehow, I guarantee it.”
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Harlow closed his eyes. “Howard, I’m too tired to think about any of this at the moment.”
“Yes, I know, but so do they, and they’re counting on it. Your enemies won’t always outright attack you. Sometimes they’ll isolate you, and ridicule you, and wear you down, and slowly grind you to nothing so they can take advantage of you.”
Harlow looked down at the desk and spoke quietly. “I know what they’re doing, but I’m not turning this opportunity down.”
Howard closed his eyes. “Don’t play their game. It’s been designed to ensure you never win, and it’s stacked against you in more ways than you know. You’re entering an expert round as a novice, and walking right into a trap without a single care as to what could happen.”
Harlow shook his head. “I haven’t persisted through the past nine years just to walk away the moment it becomes difficult.”
“Yes, but there’s a difference between giving up and cutting your losses. The odds you’re facing now are worse than any you’ve ever seen, to the point of being insurmountable.” He began pacing again. “You know me, David. I’m a stubborn bastard with a penchant for argument, and I wouldn’t have gotten where I am without an obstinate sense of determination, so when I say this is a fight you can’t win, I mean it. And I know how you’ll respond to that, too—you’ll say you appreciate my advice, then promptly disregard it. But there’s something else you should be aware of which might just change your mind.”
He cast a cursory glance around the room—a habit Harlow knew stemmed from years of paranoia and fear of being overheard.
“I’ve come across some rather disturbing information,” he continued. “I was planning on telling you at a more opportune time, but today’s events have forced my hand.”
Harlow sat waiting as Howard stopped in front of the desk again, as if collecting his thoughts, then exhaled slowly and resumed pacing. “Some members of the Council appear to be compromised.”
Harlow frowned. “Compromised? By whom? And in what way?”
Howard clasped his hands tightly behind his back as he circled the room. “A few of them appear to have taken bribes in exchange for keeping the war going indefinitely.”
“What?” Harlow whispered.
Howard nodded. “I’ve suspected it for a while, but until recently, I had no proof. We all knew the Council’s peacekeeping measures were simply an effort to appear as if they were doing something, with no real intent to make good on them, but it’s worse than I thought.”
Harlow reached forward with a shaking hand and picked up a pencil, then idly dragged it on the desk. “How long have you known about this?”
“Several weeks.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because I didn’t want to drag you into it. There was no need. I was planning on telling Wittenauer, but . . . well, you saw how that worked out, and I was hesitant because I couldn’t verify his lack of involvement. This was far beyond anything I expected you to concern yourself with—until today, that is.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “There’s many layers to the Space Corps, and quite a few of them are thoroughly corrupt. If you accept the position of chief commander, you’ll be delving right into this—plumbing the depths that frighten even me. Don’t do it.”
Harlow ignored that last part and set the pencil down. “They’ve been arming those opposition groups, haven’t they?”
Howard glanced at him. “You’ve been paying attention.”
Harlow shrugged. “They didn’t even bother covering their tracks. It’s far easier to stir up dissent than it is to stage a full-scale invasion, and it was obvious someone had an interest in creating a perma-war. I’d hoped it was simply a case of localized corruption, but . . .” He sighed. “Start naming names. Who’s behind this?”
Howard took a deep breath. “Generals Lin and Everett.” He glanced at Harlow to gauge his reaction. “I’d imagine those names are wholly unsurprising. That’s all I can implicate so far, but given the Council’s complacency even in the face of substantial losses, I fear the true number may be higher. And honestly,” he shrugged, “it probably goes even higher than the Council. Otherwise, they’d have been stopped immediately. I doubt this was entirely their idea; they’re getting kickbacks for doing someone else’s dirty work.”
Harlow pondered these words for a second. “What about Conrad?” he asked.
“Surprisingly, no. He’s clean, as far as I can tell. Don’t get me wrong, the man will say anything to get what he wants, but to my knowledge he’s never taken an illegal bribe. Most of his funding comes from personal wealth and publicly disclosed donors, and he’s surprisingly transparent about it.”
“You’ve done your due diligence,” Harlow said.
Howard shrugged. “I do what I can.”
“You must’ve paid quite a bit for that information.”
Howard shot him a sharp glance. “That’s a stupid thing to say, because anyone with half a brain would never confirm it. I see things, I hear things, and I find things. That’s all.” There was a pause, then he sighed. “It never seems to be enough, though. I’m trying my best to keep up with them, but I always seem to be one step behind. And now, given recent events, I don’t know what in God’s name there is to do about it. As much as I admire your tenacity, you’re in no position to stop them. We’ve got a bunch of warmongers on our hands, and now they’ll be your responsibility to manage. That’s why they want you there—you can’t control them. Nobody can, really, but least of all you. They’re more bloodthirsty than ever, and I wish I could say they’ve gotten better since your time at the Academy, but they haven’t. The only way anyone could ever hope to stand up to them is with a substantial cadre of officer support, a fair bit of wealth, and quite a few political connections. You’ve got none of that, and they know it.”
Harlow closed his eyes, pushed the pencil away, and sat up straighter. “Do you think I’m unaware?” he said. “I know how outmatched I am. I’m too young, too stressed, and I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I probably won’t live to see your age. At this rate, I doubt I’ll make it past my forties. But I resolved a long time ago to fight injustice any chance I got, and to refuse to do so now, especially with this kind of opportunity, would be a dereliction of duty.”
“It’s not a dereliction of duty if you’re unfit.”
Harlow shrugged. “Find better, then. I fully admit I’m unprepared, so go ahead—suggest someone better suited for the role, who’s equally committed to upholding those values. If you can do that, I’ll voluntarily surrender command. Hell, sit here yourself. You just admitted you’re in a far better position than I am, with your connections and experience. Say the word, and I’ll decline that nomination right now. They’ll hold a new election, and if you actually put effort into it, you might just win.” He met Howard’s eyes. “Care to do that?”
For once, Howard had nothing to say. Instead, he shook his head and turned away.
“That’s what I thought,” Harlow replied. “For all my faults and disadvantages, I’m the only member of that Council who’s willing to stand up to them. You can choose to help me if you want, but I’m not leaving.”