2075 - The Chief Commander's Personal Quarters
Victor seemed unsure of what to do. He paced idly for a moment, then took a seat on the floor beside him, and there was naught but silence as they sat there.
“Tell me something,” Harlow finally said. “Why are you still here?”
Victor stared through the window with a blank, emotionless gaze. “Would you like me to leave?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Harlow said quietly. “Anyone with a functioning sense of self-preservation would’ve been gone a long time ago. I still can’t figure out why you didn’t resign the night General Lin stormed up to that office, cornered you in there, and laid hands on you. I know we have a personal history, but this is still your workplace, and no job is worth that.” He inhaled deeply and took a moment to compose himself. “I always assumed you had nowhere else to go, but anywhere is better than here. If you want to leave, just tell me.”
“It’s more than just a job to me,” Victor replied. “Besides, I don’t stay anywhere I don’t want to be. You know me.”
Harlow glanced at him. “Yes, I do.”
The accusatory tone in his voice was unmistakable. Their eyes met, and Victor’s gaze darted away as Harlow continued.
“The day I truly got to know you—when I saw you for what you really are—was when you took the stand at that court martial and lied under oath, claiming everything that had happened was my fault. I saw the truth, and I may be willing to look past it, but I’ve never forgotten it. I brought you back into my confidence because I had no other option, but not a day goes by that I don’t question that choice. For all I know, your motives are entirely self-serving. How can I be sure you’re not reporting every word of our conversation back to General Lin and taking a bribe, just like the rest of them? What if the incident between the two of you was staged in order to gain my trust? I wasn’t there that night, so I’d never know. You say you want to be here, and I want to believe you, but my question is ‘why’?”
Victor remained quiet for a long time, and when he finally spoke, his voice had an air of vulnerability to it that Harlow had never heard before.
“Is nothing I do good enough for you?” he asked. “I stood in front of a deranged man who was demanding access to your quarters, looked him in the eye, and told him ‘no.’ He’d come there to kill you, David, and I don’t think you realize how close he got. I was willing to take a bullet for you that night, and all I’ve received in return is distrust and criticism. You’ve barely acknowledged it, and you never even thanked me. Not once.”
Harlow said nothing in reply; he simply closed his eyes.
“You’re still angry, aren’t you?” Victor asked. “You’ve never gotten over the past, and you won’t admit it—not even to yourself. You’re angry at me for something that happened over a decade ago—something I’ve admitted was wrong, and apologized for. Something I did when I was young and stupid, before I understood the full impact. You’re holding it over me, and you’ll never let it go.”
“Yes, because it ruined my life,” Harlow snapped. “I succeeded in spite of you, not because of you.”
There was a weighted pause, then he sighed. “And yet, for the past two years, you’ve been the only person I could consistently rely on. I gave you this job fully expecting you to fail, but you didn’t. You did better than I ever could’ve asked. If it had been anyone else, I’d have been overwhelmed with gratitude, but it was you. I wanted to hate you, but so far you’ve given me no reason, and I’m incredibly conflicted. So no, Victor, I haven’t gotten over it, and I don’t know if I ever can. I’m sorry.”
Victor shrugged. “At least now I know the truth.”
There was another long period of silence, until Victor spoke again. “You asked for honesty, didn’t you?”
“Please,” Harlow said, “I’d love nothing more.”
Victor took a deep breath, as if struggling for words. “I know what everyone thinks of me, and I never particularly cared, but when you thought it, too?” His voice wavered. “That hurt. I stayed because I wanted you to believe I was better than that, and I might’ve been trying to convince myself, as well.” He sighed and looked away. “I know what I did was wrong, and I’ve never lived it down. It was short-sighted and careless, and truth be told, I might’ve been a bit jealous of you.”
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Harlow frowned. “Jealous?”
Victor nodded. “I wish you could’ve seen yourself at seventeen, the way the rest of us saw you. The Academy couldn’t have asked for better. You were exactly the type of cadet they wanted—enthusiastic, motivated, respectful, charming . . . of course they all loved you. How could they not? You were polite to everyone you met, you said and did all the right things, and Howard was impressed enough to mentor you personally. He even risked his career for it—Howard, of all people.”
He closed his eyes. “When I first saw you, I thought you were going to be a pretentious brat just like the rest of them, but then I got to know you, and you were one of the nicest people I’d ever met. Even I couldn’t come up with anything bad to say about you. So yes, you were everything I wanted to be, and I was jealous.”
Harlow stared at the floor, and Victor continued. “You didn’t know what it meant to be unwanted, but I’d spent my whole life that way. Howard didn’t think I belonged here, and he wasn’t the first to say so. Even my own parents didn’t want me. You know the story—I was the reason they got married, and they made it abundantly clear that I was the cause of their unhappiness.”
He sat up straighter and looked away. “I’ve spent my whole life hearing everyone say something’s wrong with me, and at some point, I started believing it. I was never good enough—not for my parents, not for my teachers, and not for the Corps. I finally decided that if they were going to be angry no matter what I did, I might as well give them reason to be. But then you came along, and you were the first person I’d met who thought I could do better. And I wasn’t sure I could, but I tried, for you. You never even knew how much effort I put into it.”
His voice wavered a bit. “But when I was forced to choose between standing by you and being punished for it, or denying everything and having a chance at a future, I chose the easier option. I left you alone, and I’ve never forgiven myself. I didn’t think they’d send you to prison—I really didn’t—but then they did, and by that point it was too late. I proved all of them right by abandoning the only person who’d ever loved me. Everyone hated me, just like always, but this time I deserved it.”
He drew a long, slow breath. “But then, against all odds, you came back. I had a second chance to make things right. I wasn’t sure how to approach you, but then I saw you—I don’t know if you recall, but I passed you in the hall, one day. It was the first time I’d seen you since—”
“I remember,” Harlow said.
Victor nodded. “You looked so much older, and there wasn’t a hint of emotion on your face. That bright, innocent cadet was gone, replaced by . . . whatever you were. That was the first time I truly realized what I’d done. I already felt guilty enough, but to be confronted like that . . .” He closed his eyes and wiped away a few tears of his own. “I spent the rest of the day thinking about it, and I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I knew I needed to do something—talk to you, write a letter, anything—but I was afraid. I kept telling myself I’d do it later, but when you say that every day for years, eventually it’s going to be too late. Later never came. Again and again I picked the easy choice, and it was always the wrong one. I hated myself for it, so I behaved accordingly, and that just made everyone else hate me even more.
“I wasted years that way—burned up my twenties. I became every bit as awful as I’d always been told, and I didn’t even try to pretend otherwise. All of my relationships ended horribly. Everyone I was stationed with hated me. Every last one of my commanders gave me a poor review. I was never up for promotion, and I knew why. Howard didn’t think I deserved to be an officer, so he made sure I never became one, and deep down, I knew he was right.” He shrugged. “I’d probably have been discharged years ago, if not for the war. I made a game of it—seeing how much I could get away with before they finally got rid of me. There was nothing for me here, but I had nowhere else to go to escape my problems either, because I was the problem, and how do you run from that? I dodged prison by sending you there instead, but in doing so, sentenced myself to far worse. It was a cursed existence.
“Then it seemed like I blinked, and a decade had gone by. That wonderful, enthusiastic boy I’d fallen in love with had gray hair now, and he hadn’t smiled for a very long time. We were the same age, but you were a general, while I was still junior enlisted. You’d done so much more with your life despite all that had happened—much of which was my fault—and I thought my opportunity to make things right had passed. But then, when I had absolutely nothing left, I found out you were looking for an aide.”
“You never cared about the job, did you?” Harlow asked.
“Of course not. I wasn’t even eligible; I had to falsify records to submit the application. All I wanted was to say my piece. I didn’t think I’d get anywhere near your office, but by some miracle no one stopped me, and there I was, sitting in front of you again. You hated me every bit as much as I thought you would, and I said all the wrong things, but for the first time in years I felt as if I was moving in the right direction. I didn’t blame you for the way you felt, and I thought it was the last time I’d ever see you. But then, I got that call. You were desperate enough to consider taking me on. I had no idea what being a general’s aide entailed, much less one that hated me from the start, but I wasn’t about to turn it down. I knew this was the only chance I’d get to prove I could be something better.” He drew a deep breath. “So there you have it. That’s why I’m still here. It’s my form of apology. I may not have said it then, but I’m saying it now with every action I take and every day I remain. I don’t know if it’s made any difference, and I might not have always done the best job of it, but I’m trying.”
There was a long silence as Harlow contemplated these words.
“I believe you,” he finally said.