2075 - Space Corps Central Command Office

Harlow sensed that this was a leading statement and moved to refill the glass, but Moore waved him off.

“Don’t bother.” He shifted in the chair and stared absently at the wall. “General Lin was seen meeting with a large group of private sector representatives a few weeks ago. He tried to hide the evidence, and he almost succeeded, but one of my sources spotted him there.” He paused again. “My knowledge of that event is limited, and I’ve been sitting on this information because I wasn’t sure who to report it to. All I know is that something important happened that night, and it’s nothing good.”

Harlow frowned, and Colonel Moore continued. “Lin went to great lengths to try to hide it. I don’t know why, so all I can offer is speculation.”

“I’ll take anything you’ve got,” Harlow said.

Moore nodded. “The venue was the Ivory Cloud Hotel, near Brisbane. I tried to access their internal records, but they’ve got a reputation for hosting high-profile guests, and their in-house security is second to none, which is probably why it was chosen. The event took place in the penthouse, which had been booked for a private party that evening by an anonymous client. Lin was seen entering through the front lobby accompanied by a few others, and hotel staff escorted them directly to the penthouse elevator. After that, I have no clue what they did.”

“Only Lin? No other officers?” Harlow asked.

Moore shook his head. “Just Lin and two of his aides, plus a personal assistant. As far as my source could tell, they were the only military personnel in attendance. The rest seemed to be private sector—civilians, corporate representatives, defense contractors, and the like.”

“That doesn’t bode well,” Harlow said. “Under normal circumstances, I’d view an officer’s participation in such an event as an indication they’re about to retire, but there’s nothing normal about this.”

“No, there’s not,” Moore sighed. “Speculate however you like, but I’d be concerned he’s . . .” He trailed off.

“Plotting a coup?” Harlow finished.

Moore glanced at him, and Harlow shrugged. “I’ve already considered the possibility. You’re not telling me anything I don’t know; you’re just confirming my suspicions.” He sighed. “I knew Lin wanted to ally with business interests, and you’ve just given me conclusive evidence of it. He’s trying to create a private force with public funding, and if Headquarters won’t give him permission, he’ll split the branch and take as much as he can with him. The only thing keeping him from purging that Council is me, and I won’t be able to stop him for much longer.”

Moore studied him carefully, then looked away.

“You’re more observant than I gave you credit for,” he said.

Harlow shrugged again. “It does me no good if I can’t think of a way to stop him.”

Moore regarded him with a pointed stare. “How do you plan to go about that? Do you have even the faintest idea?”

“No,” Harlow said quietly.

Moore leaned forward, met his eyes, and lowered his voice. “You realize I offer more than information, right?”

Harlow was silent at this, and Moore leaned back in his chair. “I understand your hesitation to trust me. Arranging this meeting must’ve presented a substantial enough risk.” He shrugged. “I won’t elaborate further, but when you’re ready, you know where to find me.”

Harlow nodded. “Thank you, Colonel.”

Moore nodded back, then glanced at the clock. “We’re running short on time, so I assume you want to wrap this up.”

“In a minute, but if my math is correct, I get one more question.”

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Moore paused, then shrugged. “Go ahead, then.”

Harlow stared at him intently. “What do you suggest? To stop him, I mean? I’ve been advised by several people, now—yourself included—that almost nothing short of violence is the answer, but I’d rather not resort to that unless all other options have been exhausted. I’d prefer to handle this legally, but is there any way to do that, at this point?”

“I think you already know,” Moore replied. “You’re just hoping to hear otherwise.”

He held Harlow’s gaze for a moment, then looked away. “I’ve seen what happens to those who stand up to him,” he said. “Wittenauer may have been unpopular, but he also refused to cater to Lin’s demands. His reasoning was entirely different than yours—he was trying to appease everyone while simultaneously achieving his own ends—but he had no interest in doing the bidding of warmongers, and in return, they ruined his life for it.”

“And he was in a better position than I am,” Harlow said.

Moore nodded. “At the time of his election, he was practically a household name within the Corps—and even beyond it—while you were virtually unknown. He’s a war hero with decades of service and dozens of medals, while you’re an Academy wash-out with a criminal record. If they can do it to him, they can do it to you.”

Harlow leaned back in his chair. “And therein lies Lin’s mistake. I’ve got nothing to lose.”

Moore didn’t respond, but Harlow could’ve sworn he smiled ever so slightly.

“I’ll leave you with one last piece of information,” he finally said. “This isn’t some hypothetical discussion, or something that’s happening in secret—he’s bringing it right to your doorstep and negotiating those deals under our very noses.”

Harlow waited expectantly, and Moore took a deep breath. “Did you know he hosted a small group of his own personal guests on the Europa Station last week?”

Harlow shook his head.

“Well, he did. None of them were particularly notable, at first glance—if I didn’t know better, I’d simply have thought it was a group of his friends—but Lin doesn’t have friends, and a few of them were spotted at that event several weeks ago.”

“Why would he bring them there?” Harlow asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine, but they received a closed-door reception and a private tour, which included floors with restricted access. They got a nice, long look at some of the senior command offices, and that’s not all—when they arrived, they were processed through security with expedited clearance and escorted to the premium guest suites.”

Harlow frowned. “Expedited clearance isn’t meant for visitors. And the premium suites . . . I thought those were occupied by prospective cadets and their families. The scholarship winners.”

“They were,” Moore said. “Lin sent security to kick them out.”

Harlow inhaled sharply.

“I assume you didn’t authorize any of this,” Moore said.

“Of course not.”

There was another long pause, and Harlow closed his eyes. “He’s selling officer positions, isn’t he? Giving them top-level clearance and showing them their future offices. And there’s no need for an Academy anymore if our top positions are available to the highest bidder.”

“I came to the same conclusion,” Moore said. “He didn’t go to great lengths to hide it, either, which means that whatever he’s planning is in the advanced stages. He doesn’t care if he gets caught.”

Harlow remained silent for a while, then sat up straighter.

“Thank you, Colonel Moore,” he said. “You’ve been immensely helpful.”

Moore sat up too. “I’m glad. Don’t hesitate to contact me again, should you feel the need.”

“Absolutely.” Harlow glanced at the clock. “Now, the next candidate will probably be here soon, so I’ll go ahead and see you out.

He stood up, straightened his uniform, and dismissed him with a polite nod.

Colonel Moore returned the gesture, and Harlow moved to pick up the whisky bottle, but Moore shook his head.

“I don’t want to be seen carrying that out. Have it sent to my office later.”

Harlow took a deep breath. “Of course,” he said. He realized the sin he’d nearly committed—gifting an obvious token of favoritism to an officer who was known for dealing in information.

Although Moore didn’t say anything, Harlow saw the judgment written across his face.

He still had a lot to learn.

He stepped around the desk, and they crossed the room together. Once they reached the foyer, Moore stood at attention and gave a parting salute, which Harlow returned.

“I’m very impressed by what I’ve seen today, Colonel.”

Moore nodded back. “Thank you for your consideration, Sir.”

“You’re welcome.” He nodded at Victor. “Please escort Colonel Moore to the elevator, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Victor said. He stood up, took a mug from the desk, and extended it in Moore’s direction.

“Would you like some coffee, Sir?”

Moore briefly considered this offer, then shrugged.

“Why not?” he said as he took the mug from Victor’s outstretched hand. “I could use a pick-me-up.”

His face changed with the first sip, though, and he violently spit it out.

“What’s in that?” he shouted. He glanced at Harlow, though, and quickly composed himself. “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to insult your coffee preference.”

“It’s fine,” Harlow replied tersely. He stood up straighter, clasped his hands in front of him, and glanced at Victor, who was observing all of this with a wry grin. “I think we need to switch coffee suppliers. That last batch was particularly rough.”

Moore set the mug down with a sour expression, and Victor made his way around the desk. “Follow me, please.”

Harlow watched as they departed into the hall, keeping that polite smile on his face until both were out of sight. Then he closed his eyes and sighed.