2075 - The Chief Commander's Personal Quarters
After the Council had dispersed, following the meeting’s conclusion, and had gone their separate ways, Harlow retreated to the privacy of his quarters.
He entered the living room, stopped before the full-length window spanning the entirety of the far wall, and stood there staring at the vast darkness and sparkling stars dotting the clear night sky.
He rarely thought of nothing, but tonight he allowed his mind to become as blank as that void, seemingly endless expanse stretching before him.
Not only were his quarters dark, they were also quiet. Silence was a luxury he was rarely afforded these days, and he did his best to enjoy it as he stood there with a calm expression, an untucked shirt, and hands resting in his pockets.
Victor was there too, standing beside him in a similar manner. They hadn’t said much to each other, but after a few minutes, Harlow sighed and turned his gaze downward.
“I’ve got to do something about General Lin,” he said.
“What have you got in mind?” Victor asked absently.
Harlow shook his head. “I don’t know.”
After a long pause, he sighed again. “I was prepared to address this as a corruption case, but it’s so much worse. He’s not merely accepting bribes; he’s become a war profiteer, and an incredibly brazen one, at that. I don’t even know which statutes I’d charge him under because he’s violated so many, and no one else in senior command is willing to initiate a court martial because they fear retaliation.”
Victor shrugged. “You’ve got reason to fear retaliation too. They’ve already deposed one chief commander, so what’s another?”
Harlow stared through the window, then closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath. “I’ve already come to terms with the fact that regardless of what I do, my career’s probably over. Headquarters won’t be of much help; they prefer to remain hands-off. If I request that audit, they’re just as likely to go after me as they are him.” He shrugged. “It would be entirely punitive, of course, but based on the way they’ve treated whistleblowers in the past, I’d be in just as much trouble as Lin, if not more. They’d see it as an indication I’m incapable of doing my job. All of this would be viewed as my fault because I’ve allowed it.”
“Despite the fact that you’ve held office for less than a year,” Victor said.
“They need someone to hang out to dry, and I’m a convenient target,” Harlow replied. “It’s not like I didn’t know, either—I was fully aware of Lin’s activities when I accepted this position, but I thought I could stop him.” He shrugged again. “I should’ve recognized that this problem was beyond me, but I didn’t, so here I am.”
He paused for a moment, then looked away. “I’m completely alone pursuing this matter because our higher-ups simply can’t be bothered, and there’s not a single member of that Council other than Howard who can be trusted to rule objectively. They’re either on Lin’s payroll, or too afraid to speak against him. And even if they’re not, anyone who’s remained neutral up to this point probably just wants to stay out of it.”
“Well, they won’t have that option for much longer,” Victor replied. “We’re all going to be dragged into this eventually, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool.”
Harlow nodded. “I used to wonder how anyone could deny something like this, but now I know. Look no further than Conrad, if you want an example. There’s always going to be those who want business to continue as usual, regardless of the circumstances, and the only way to do that is to refuse to acknowledge what’s happening right before their eyes. Lin capitalized on that willful ignorance and allowed them to remain happy and distracted while he orchestrated a silent coup right beneath them and effectively privatized an entire branch. I’m going to be blamed for it, of course, but this began long before I assumed office. It’s not even hypothetical anymore—if he’s grown cavalier enough to speak about his business dealings openly, that means they’ve already done it. And I say ‘they’ because we all know he’s not working alone.”
Victor nodded. “I couldn’t help but notice just how nervous Everett looked today. He seemed positively spooked.”
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“I would be too, if I were in his position.”
After another long pause, Harlow drew a deep breath. “It’s abundantly clear that Lin’s loyalty lies elsewhere. The Corps represents a means to an end, and little else.” He sighed and looked up at the stars once more. “I don’t know what kind of deal he’s negotiated, or with whom, but it must be worth enough to sell us out for.”
Victor glanced at him. “How much do you think they’ve offered him? And who would even have enough to finance something like that? It must be an inordinate amount, to motivate him to take this kind of risk.”
Harlow shrugged. “I don’t think they’ve offered him money, or if they did, it was in conjunction with something else. Whatever they’ve promised is valuable enough, in his eyes, he’s deemed it worthy of risking his career for and compromising every advantage he has. There’s no amount of money that would make that worthwhile—not even for General Lin.”
He paused for a moment, then shifted where he stood. “How do you handle a general who refuses to follow orders, refuses to resign, refuses to negotiate any terms but total surrender, and who continues to wage offensive campaigns without approval? He’s intelligent enough to know better, and he used to make a pretense, at least, of political appeasement, but he apparently doesn’t deem that necessary anymore.” He let out a resigned sigh. “I’ve got to think of a solution. Not that it’ll do much good, of course, because I suspect I’m too late.”
“Well, figure it out another time. You’re too tired.”
“I don’t have the luxury of time,” Harlow said quietly. He took a deep breath, and his voice wavered. “Where did I go wrong? I’ve given all of myself for this, yet I never seem to get anywhere.”
“You can’t be more wrong than they are.”
“It feels like it, though.”
They stood there for another minute, staring into the great nothingness. They didn’t speak, and they didn’t move. They simply stood, surveying the wonders of creation until Harlow broke the silence.
“It’s beautiful.”
Victor nodded in agreement. They both stared at the stars for a while longer, and Harlow shrugged. “I remember looking up at that sky as a cadet and thinking I’d be out there, one day. That’s why I joined. I loved the Corps’ mission—exploring, pioneering, making new discoveries, advancing humanity’s place in the universe—and I thought becoming an officer was the best way to do all that.” He sighed. “Now I occupy the highest office one can hope to achieve in these ranks, but I’m simply standing by and watching as that vision is bastardized and sold off for the benefit of a select few, just as it’s always been. I vowed to do something about it, yet here I am, powerless as ever.” He took a deep breath and turned his gaze downward. “How’d it come to this?”
Victor shrugged. “You didn’t expect them to surrender power easily, did you?”
“It’s one thing to know it, but quite another to see it,” Harlow replied. “Lin thought I’d be another pawn in his schemes, and I have no doubt he’s been plotting my downfall since the moment I proved otherwise. As soon as he gets a chance to act, he will, and the only thing that’s surprising about any of this is that he hasn’t done it sooner.”
There was another long period of silence, then Victor spoke again. “You know, there’s something I’ve always suspected, but I kept it to myself because I’ve never heard anyone so much as mention it.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve got a theory as to why they nominated you for chief commander, and it’s not simply because they thought they could manipulate you. That was part of it, to be sure, but not all of it.”
“No?” Harlow asked.
Victor shook his head. “It was because of your background. There’s plenty of trust fund brats and third-generation officers who would’ve been perfect candidates, and they’d have been just as easy to manipulate, but they’ve got certain expectations, and they’re accustomed to preferential treatment. You, though? You’ve been treated as ‘lesser’ your whole life—hell, they already sent you to prison for something that was barely a crime. You didn’t have that privilege to fall back on, and they knew it. They didn’t want someone impressionable in that role; they wanted someone who was afraid of them. That’s why they were shocked when you weren’t, because you had ample reason to be. Stupid people can still have a sense of entitlement, and they’ll do as they please regardless of advice to the contrary, but frightened people don’t.”
“If only they knew the truth,” Harlow said. “I’m terrified.”
“You don’t look it, though, and that’s what matters. They made damn sure you knew the consequences of defiance, yet you went and did it anyway.”
Harlow nodded in reply. He meant to respond, but words simply wouldn’t come. Instead, he felt a lump rising in his throat, and his vision became blurred with tears that threatened to spill over. He held them back as long as he could, but when he closed his eyes, they flowed freely.
He hadn’t cried for a long time, but tonight, he couldn’t stop. His shoulders shook, and tears streamed down his face as he wept before that window. At first he was silent, but then the sobs came, followed by heavy heaving that wracked his whole body until he could barely breathe. Eventually he sank to the floor, where he hugged his knees, buried his face in his arms, and cried some more.
Nobody knows their true breaking point until they reach it, and Harlow had found his. There was no singular instance that caused it, just a slow series of fractures that eventually led to a failure.
The sobs gradually faded, and he sat there for what felt like a very long time.
He knew the proper thing to do—and the expected thing—would be to get up and return to his desk. But his mind was far away, and his willpower was spent. He was unable to fulfill his duties of office, and he knew it, but resigning was out of the question, so he simply remained there, staring.