2075 - General Lin's Personal Quarters

General Lin had chosen to abide by the rules this time.

Harlow could see it the instant he entered the hall leading to Lin’s quarters, because the bodyguards who usually accompanied him everywhere he went were posted outside, standing by the door. They patted Harlow down before he entered, then gave an approving nod when they were satisfied he was unarmed. He was also asked in a polite but firm manner to leave his jacket outside—a condition he reluctantly agreed to.

He walked in to find General Lin sitting in the living room in a far more casual manner than he’d anticipated, waiting. He was lounging in an armchair with his legs crossed and a smile on his face, and next to him, on a small end table, a wine set had already been laid out, with a pair of finely etched glasses and a plain bottle housing a generic red.

The room was dark, save for a solitary lamp casting a paltry yellow glow. It might’ve been an inviting setting, Harlow thought, had the circumstances been different, but something about General Lin invited a deep sense of unease. The man had an unsettling aspect to him, and Harlow felt as one might if they were in the presence of a predator.

As he stopped near the entryway, Lin sat up straighter and gestured toward a nearby chair.

“Good evening,” he said. “Have a seat.”

Harlow didn’t, though—not immediately. Lin was well aware of the terms which had been set, he was sure, but he cast a cursory glance around the room all the same, just as Howard did when he was nervous.

“You promise we’re not being watched?” he asked.

Lin nodded. “You have my word.”

Harlow hesitated, then nodded back and crossed the room.

Lin watched as he took his seat, smiling all the while, then reached over, uncorked the wine, and filled the glass closest to him. He moved to fill the other, but Harlow shook his head and waved him off with a dismissive gesture.

“No, thank you,” he said.

“Why not?” Lin asked.

“I’m not much of a drinker.”

“Really?” Lin stared at him. “I hear you were perfectly comfortable accepting a drink from General Conrad, and rumor has it you shared a round with the latest group of Council nominees, too.”

Harlow wasn’t sure how to respond, so he merely shrugged, and Lin’s smile widened.

“I know what you want,” he said as he set the bottle aside. “You’d like us to air our grievances, and I’d love nothing more.”

Harlow nodded, but he felt that familiar sense of nervousness rising within, as it always did in Lin’s presence. And now that they were alone, it flared stronger than ever.

His subconscious—that sense of intuition he always relied on—screamed a warning, alerting that he was in danger. His rational mind tried to ignore it, but it lingered like a faint alarm sounding in the background.

Run, it said.

But Harlow didn’t. Instead, he cast another glance at the wine bottle.

“I thought you’d have more expensive taste,” he said.

Lin followed his gaze, then shrugged. “Unlike most of our officers, I don’t come from a privileged background. I’m grateful, though, because I learned to appreciate the finer things in life wherever they present themselves, and sometimes they surprise you.” He lifted the glass, took a long sip, and set it back down. “Did you know there’s a hidden wine cellar in the senior officers’ lounge?”

“No, I didn’t.”

Lin nodded. “It’s a Council secret, and some of our longer-tenured members have accumulated quite the collection. Sometimes they even help themselves to whatever’s in there, as if it’s communal property.” He nodded at the bottle. “No one’s ever touched that one, though, because they seem to think it’s beneath them. And that’s their loss, because it’s some of the best I’ve ever had.”

Harlow shrugged. “I find it surprising no one’s sampled it, given Howard’s presence on the Council.”

Lin smiled again, and for the first time Harlow could recall, it seemed nearly genuine.

“Well, you know him better than I do.”

There was a brief pause, and Harlow leaned back, crossed his legs, and did his best to appear composed. “You’re very different, when speaking to you alone.”

Lin shrugged. “Well, unlike others would have you believe, I’m acting in good faith.” He cast a sharp glance in Harlow’s direction. “And I assume you are, as well.”

Harlow nodded.

Lin scrutinized him carefully, then turned his attention back to the glass. “I know I let my temper get away from me occasionally, but I genuinely want the best for the Corps, and for everyone in it.”

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Harlow sighed. “On that note, I never apologized, did I? My behavior during that briefing was unprofessional, and I should’ve conducted myself better.”

Lin sat unmoving for a second, and finally nodded. “Noted. And likewise, I apologize for manhandling your assistant, too. It was a bit impulsive of me. I understand why he interpreted that as a threat, and I don’t hold it against him.”

Harlow nodded back. “Understood. Now, given that we’ve cleared the air, I’d like to talk to you.”

“By all means,” Lin said as he reached for the bottle and poured himself another glass. When he looked up, though, his smile was gone. “Why have you come here?”

Harlow shifted in his chair and inhaled deeply. “Because, General Lin, you’ve got no interest in ending this conflict, and I’d like to know why. It doesn’t make sense; you’ve gone beyond any point of reason. Even your closest advisors are asking you to concede a loss and pull out of the region, and you still won’t do it. You’re intelligent, and I know there must be more to it than simply assuaging your ego, so I’m asking now, in good faith, while we’re having a calm, polite discussion—why?”

Lin leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “Because I didn’t set out to lose this war, and I don’t start engagements without the intent of finishing them.”

Harlow stared at him. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’re already losing this war—badly. As mentioned earlier, you don’t come from a place of privilege, which means you had to succeed on your own merit. If you were so blind to reality, you wouldn’t have made it to the rank of general. Tell me the truth. What do you stand to gain from all this?”

Lin took another long sip and shrugged. “You’re far too quick to assume the worst of others and see foul intent where none exists. Is it really so hard to believe that I’m the most dedicated to success among our leadership?”

Harlow’s gaze remained unbroken. “Answer the question. Who’s paying you, and what do you stand to gain?”

Lin paused for a moment, then set the glass down. “You know, we could do this all night—you pushing, and me denying; you threatening to launch an investigation, while I get drunker and the insults get meaner because you simply won’t leave me alone. So let’s skip all that and get to the heart of it.” He leaned forward and smiled. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I want the truth.”

“There’s better ways to find it. Why come to me directly?”

Harlow shifted in his seat. “General Lin, I think you misunderstand my intentions. I’m not seeking a confession or trying to bully you into admitting fault. I don’t know what you’ve found yourself caught up in, but it’s clearly something so egregious, you’re willing to defy a direct order from a chief of staff to stand behind it. I understand why you’re hesitant to talk to me, but I’m not here to cast judgment. Look around—it’s just the two of us in here, and I’m unarmed. I’ve come to listen to whatever you have to say. I don’t know what went wrong in those negotiations of yours, but something clearly has, and I’m giving you the best opportunity you’ll have to come clean, and possibly even walk away.” He leaned forward and looked him in the eye. “If you’ve become entangled in something greater than yourself, I’m willing to help. We can end this.”

When their eyes met, though, Lin’s smile widened, and in that moment Harlow knew that any appeal to good faith would be futile.

“If I needed help,” Lin said, “I’d seek out better than you.”

Harlow stared at him for a moment, then leaned back and nodded.

“Fine,” he replied. “I understand that. But if I decide to pursue legal action, I’ll seek out better than myself as well, which is why I’ve already appealed beyond Headquarters and prepared a motion for the World Congress. There’s no statute of limitations for war crimes, and they can be prosecuted in multiple jurisdictions, so if you’ve committed human rights abuses, you’ll not only be subject to a court martial, but also civilian penalties from anyone who’s willing to bring charges against you.”

Lin shifted uncomfortably at this. But his discomfort lasted only a moment—fading as quickly as it had appeared—and he lifted the glass, took another sip, and shrugged. “Good luck, then. They can waste time bickering in court or carrying out endless investigations, but they’ll find nothing. We’ve never once targeted civilians, nor initiated offensive measures toward anyone who hadn’t attacked us first. You know our policies; we always gave ample warning when carrying out operations in populated areas.”

“I’m aware of our policies. What I’m calling into question is that you followed them.”

“I don’t know what more you to tell you. It benefits no one to indiscriminately slaughter civilians. I gave them fair warning.”

“What kind of warning, General Lin? The kind where you drop leaflets over the area? Small pieces of paper giving them twenty-four hours’ notice to vacate the region, because you’re about to bomb it to a crater?”

Lin shrugged. “I acted in compliance with the law. Everything you’ve mentioned is legal.”

Harlow looked away. “That it is.”

There was a long silence.

“I’d like to believe you, but your behavior suggests otherwise,” Harlow finally said. “Even if everything you’re saying is true, though, there’s still the matter of corruption. That’s not up for debate; you’ve admitted to it on multiple occasions.”

Lin set the glass down. “I know I’ve mentioned the idea of partnerships before, but I think my statements were misinterpreted. Those are simply collaborations—ongoing discussions with potential partners about common goals.”

“Who are they, then?” Harlow asked. “Who’s paying you?”

Lin hesitated for a moment, then leaned back and crossed his legs. “The Anders Corporation.”

Harlow frowned, and Lin glanced at him. “You didn’t expect me to actually say it, did you? In reality, I don’t care if you know, and neither do they. In fact, we were prepared to make you an offer. I hadn’t found the right opportunity to approach you, but then you came to me instead.” He picked up the glass and studied it absently. “Anders has exciting new ventures planned, and they’re willing to provide ample compensation to anyone willing to collaborate on those measures. Our goals are similar, so I thought it would be the perfect chance to establish a partnership.”

“And which goals would those be?”

“Their mission statement aligns closely with ours. They’ve got incredibly bold new technologies in the testing stages—advances in transportation, communication, materials science, and robotics, as well as spacecraft prototypes and proposed research facilities.”

“Why does that require them to be in the Thirty-Third, though?” Harlow asked. “I know this is all connected, somehow.”

Lin paused, then set the glass down and idly traced his finger over the top.

“That’s where they want to test their mining equipment,” he said. “Conditions there are similar to those found at some of their proposed mining sites. They’ve asked us to coordinate with local leaders to designate testing areas for them, as well as provide security and ensure minimal interference from . . . problematic parties.”

Harlow stared at him. “You say you’re not targeting civilians, but I don’t know how else that statement can be interpreted. I’m sure the locals are opposed to such efforts, and understandably so. They’re occupying territory that was legally granted to them years ago. Seizing land by force wouldn’t simply be a breach of ethics—you’d be violating long-established treaties.”

“Not if they start attacking us, which they did,” Lin said. “You’ve heard the reports. Those aren’t peaceful settlements; they’ve become hotbeds of organized crime. Anders hasn’t violated any treaties, and they’ve got the support of quite a few local officials.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Harlow replied. “All of those corporations—Anders included—have a history of meddling in politics. How many of those officials are con men who were willing to accept their bribes?”