Victory looked around himself distastefully. Cain caught his look and realized what he was thinking.
“It’s not much, but it’s ours,” Cain said, then added, thoughtfully, “Partner.”
Victory sighed. His meeting with Cain had produced several rather unexpected results. First of all, they had come to an agreement. Cain had become almost as fervent about the cause as Victory, and they both readily accepted that he was the better speaker of the two. With that in mind, they had formed a diumvirate, for lack of a better word. They were now equal partners in leadership of the Fellowship. That bothered Victory. Cain had not even met any of the other Fellows yet.
Another result of their first talk had been Cain’s proposal for a headquarters location. Cain had apparently had a rather prismatic career as a construction foreman. One of the places he had been employed at was a warehouse that had gone under. It was small, for sale at a very reasonable price, and relatively stripped of equipment, and so was fairly acceptable as a headquarters.
“Now, you realize I’ve dropped my whole life savings into this place as a headquarters,” Cain said.
Victory nodded.
“I’m not asking for thanks or anything, but I just want you to understand that I’ve invested myself wholly and fully into this order.”
The final result of their conclave had been that Cain had decided to take on leadership of the Fellowship as a full-time occupation. It meant that in the future Cain would have considerably more control in terms of policy than Victory would because he would simply be in charge more often. Victory would have to continue with his regular job. It was, Victory feared, perhaps another mistake.
As a matter of fact, Victory had a vague nagging tickling in the back of his head which told him that everything which had occurred was just a little bit off. He wondered if maybe Cain had been so persuasive in their conversation that he had not only gotten into the Fellowship, but he had forcibly knocked Victory out.
Whether or not Victory really turned out to be a lame duck or a figurehead was not clear yet. All that was clear was that the Fellowship would be undergoing a series of revolutionary changes very soon. And what would happen next, well, only time would tell.
Manuscripts Burn
MANUSCRIPTS BURN
"Manuscripts don't burn"
- Mikhail Bulgakov
Hi, I'm Splatterpunk Award-winning horror and science fiction author Steve Kozeniewski (pronounced: "causin' ooze key.") Welcome to my blog! You can also find me on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Amazon. You can e-mail me here, join my mailing list here, or request an e-autograph here. Free on this site you can listen to me recite one of my own short works, "The Thing Under the Bed."
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