My favorite moments from David Mack's Control. Most of them are Garak, even though he's barely in this book...
[Text ID: “’I'm well aware that you're all fugitives of the highest order in the Federation. Nothing new for you, Doctor, or for your inamorata"—he let contempt drip off that last word—"though I have to imagine being the target of an interstellar dragnet must be something of a new experience for your friends.’” End ID]
Okay this is hilarious. David Mack establishes that Sarina Douglas (the genetically-engineered woman Julian helps in "Statistical Probabilities." Remember her?) and Julian have been in a relationship for a while, but he's also clearly a garashir shipper who loves to make Garak suffer. Jealous!Garak my beloved.
[Text ID: “Garak shot a wary look at his bodyguards, then he moved closer to Bashir. ‘Are you asking as a Starfleet officer? As a doctor? Or as a man in need of asylum?’
‘I'm asking as your friend.... Help us, Elim.’
It might have been nothing more than Bashir's imagination, but he thought he saw the faintest hint of jealousy in Garak's eyes when the castellan glanced at Sarina. But then Garak looked back at Bashir and smiled. ‘Very well, Julian. For an old friend... anything is possible.’” End ID]
Poor Garak. This is truly painful. Especially since Julian recognizes his jealousy and doesn't ever address it.
[Text ID: “’Executions without judicial oversight? It's an obscenity masquerading as national security.’
‘Yes. And it's also how the Obsidian Order kept total control over the Cardassian Union for nearly a century.’
That put an end to Bashir's perambulation. ‘Wait, no. I didn't mean to say—'
‘That any part of the Federation could ever have anything in common with the Obsidian Order? Or with the Tal Shiar? Oh, how I envy your naïveté, Doctor. To believe that any nation state could ever endure without having an appendage willing to stain itself in blood—what a luxury it must be to live in the arms of such delusion.’
He expected a tirade from Bashir. A red-faced defense of the Federation's principles, its integrity, its virtue. Instead the doctor reined in his dudgeon and approached Garak's desk. He set his knuckles on the polished wood and bowed his head while he drew a calming breath. ‘I can't deny there's rot in the core of Starfleet. In the heart of the Federation. I've seen it.’ He looked up at Garak, and his eyes had the hard, unyielding focus of a man ready to go to war. ‘I came to you because I need to know how to stop it. How to end it. How to destroy it.’
‘Well, that's simple, Doctor. What worked for Cardassia will work for the Federation. To excise this cancer from your body politic, all you need to do is kill the body, burn it down to ash, then resurrect and rebuild it with wiser eyes and a sadder heart.’
Bashir's brow creased with scorn. ‘You mock me.’
‘Not at all, Doctor. You saw what happened to this world at the end of the Dominion War—to all the planets of the Cardassian Union. The Dominion burned us to the ground. Slew all but a fraction of our population. Left us with nothing but cinders and cenotaphs. That is what it took to free Cardassia from the grip of the Obsidian Order. Are you ready to pay that price so the people of the Federation can bask in the purity of their liberty? Is it worth the blood of billions? Is it worth seeing your worlds on fire?’
‘You make it sound as if there's no middle ground,’ Bashir protested. ‘No choice besides surrender or slaughter.’
Garak saw no reason to blunt the truth's cutting edge. ‘Why else would such programs exist, Doctor? What is the value of intelligence if it doesn't lead to action?’
This time Bashir rose to Garak's challenge. ‘What is the value of action if it betrays all that we stand for?’ His shoulders slumped as if they bore a terrible weight. ‘Garak, I didn't come here to be lectured, or to be told I'm too idealistic. I came here for advice.’
‘Of what sort?’
‘The kind that will help me stop Thirty-one. Permanently.’
Maybe the doctor was foolhardy. Perhaps his mission was doomed to fail. But there was no denying the man possessed the courage of his convictions. Garak tried to remember what that had felt like in his long-ago squandered youth—and then he realized, to his shame, that he had never known the sweet sting of such passions.
‘If you want to kill Section Thirty-one,’ he said, ‘you'll need to turn their greatest strength against them—transform it into their most dire weakness. They thrive on secrecy, on anonymity, just as the Obsidian Order once did. Take that away from them. Expose them and they'll be vulnerable—and that's when you strike the killing blow.’ He set his palms on the desktop and leaned forward to emphasize his final piece of counsel. ‘But make sure you leave nothing of your enemy intact. When your work is done, don't try to turn their assets to your advantage. Destroy them all, every last one—or else the monster will simply rise again.’” End ID]
Although the concept and plot of this book is really interesting, I was generally not impressed by the characterization in this book. But Garak is an exception. I love this passage because it's a brief return to Garak and Julian's cherished philosophical debates. And it so perfectly encapsulates Garak's world-view after all he's been through. He's under no delusions of how far a society will go to "protect itself." Or how hard it can be to dismantle a broken system. He's experienced both tragedies first-hand.
[Text ID: “’The codicil concerning Doctor Bashir indicated a ninety-four percent likelihood that he would seek the aid of his former lover and Deep Space Nine crewmate, Captain Ezri Dax. Instead, he ran to Castellan Elim Garak.’" End ID]
Ha. That's telling, isn't it...
[Text ID: “’Have you considered the possibility that you've chosen the wrong side?’
The question felt to Bashir like a vote of no confidence. He hoped he had heard Garak wrong. ‘What do you mean, the wrong side?’
‘I merely mean to ask, Julian, if you've ever stopped to entertain the notion that perhaps Section Thirty-one serves a valid purpose?’
The question itself offended Bashir. ‘Don't be absurd, Garak. Thirty-one wields deadly power with absolutely no legal accountability or oversight. It commits countless crimes against Federation citizens and foreign peoples. It steals, defrauds, counterfeits, murders. It acts in the name of the Federation while betraying every principle for which we stand. Its continued existence is an insult to our entire civilization.’
Garak struck an imperious pose. ‘Really? An insult? What if that insult to your Federation is the only reason it still exists?’ He prowled forward, crossing Bashir's imaginary boundary of personal space. ‘Every nation-state in history has relied, at one time or another, on the services of such organizations for their very survival. Why should yours be any different?’” End ID]
Devil's advocate as always. But Garak has a point. Cardassia was only able to maintain it's strictly military society--the status quo--because of the Obsidian Order. Based on his own experience, it's reasonable to think that Section Thirty-one may be the only thing holding the Federation together. No matter how much its actions go against the holier-than-thou principles the Federation claims to uphold.
[Text ID: “’Beliefs are dangerous things, Julian. Once we invest in them, it can be hard to challenge them without invoking cognitive dissonance. But in this case, I suggest you try. Because if I'm correct, going to war with Section Thirty-one can only end badly for you. Either you will lose, and you and all your friends will suffer gruesome fates I'd rather not imagine; or you will win—and in so doing, end up inflicting more harm than good upon your beloved Federation.’" End ID]
Not Garak trying to predict the ending of the book. Somehow the real ending was a mix of both. And that "beliefs are dangerous things" line... Yeah.
[Text ID: (Referring to the décor of the Federation Headquarters in Paris, which is scientifically constructed to be soothing and discourage potential violent behavior) “Like the Federation's pervasive imperialism, the lobby's social controls were subtle and hideously effective.” End ID]
Damn, you said it, not me. I do love this book's determination to deconstruct every charitable feeling the reader might have about the Federation.
[Text ID: “Alone with Bashir, Garak looked at his friend.
He circled in front of him. ‘Are you still with me, my dear doctor?’ He squatted in front of the hoverchair and tried in vain to make eye contact with his friend. ‘Are you blind to the sight of me? Deaf to the music of my voice?’
Bashir's silence and his wounded stare into an empty distance disturbed Garak in ways he feared to confront. This was not the man he remembered from Deep Space 9, or the confidant with whom he had trusted his private musings in the aftermath of the Dominion War. This man was detached from the world, in it but separated from it by a barrier as unbreachable as it was intangible. This was the shattered husk of a good man, the sorry remains of one who had refused to bend to the cruelties of the world and ended up broken instead.” End ID]
I didn't realize this book leads directly into Una McCormack's Enigma Tales (excellent book, go read it!) until this point. That knowledge makes this moment hurt more, I think.
[Text ID: “There was naught left for Garak to do now but keep his friend safe, in a clean and well-lit place, and give him whatever time he needed to heal himself—or at least to die in peace, with his last measure of privacy intact and jealously guarded by someone who loved him.” End ID]
Time to curl up in a ball and stare into the middle distance for a while...
