The Fallow

by Alicia Britton

  Long story short, they had the bastards right where they wanted them. Exposed. And in the Captain’s case, it was pretty fucking literally.

  Law passed by Doxy on the daybed in the living area. She was in the spot closest to the glowing woodstove. Her legs were curled to the side, and she was reading the edition of the Divinity Daily that Law had read when it was hot off the press. Doxy didn’t do more than glance up. Law gave her a nod of acknowledgement that she didn’t care to return.

  Virtue may have been next to Herald, but there was a noticeable distance there. Her listless eyes lit up a smidge at their presence, however. Was it because of Law or Herald’s sudden buoyancy? No. It was the baby. Of course. But the higher Virtue rose, the harder she fell. She hit a point where she had to withdraw from the scene.

  Parody was beside Virtue, hard at work. The buzz that filled the room was coming from her tattoo gun. She was turning the code on Virtue’s arm into something less ugly. It would never be beautiful because of what it stood for and who had put it there. But Parody was a master of her craft and she was making a valiant effort anyway. The vines and red roses were eye-catching, even from a distance. If someone didn’t know any better, it appeared to be an image put there voluntarily.

  They were still missing Bernie, he noticed, taking the seat at the head of the table directly across from Herald. She was their patroness now. The cabin was theirs to use indefinitely, and rather than pay rent, she had asked for ten percent of their future earnings. That was more than any one person ever received, but that was because the Captain used to take forty percent, plus interest if they paid late. Now that he was out of their financial milieu, ten percent was a magnanimous request, especially since she had also loaned them money up front. Allegedly, Bernie even wanted to try her hand at writing something for them . . . if and when she had the time. And that meant she’d earn her share the old-fashioned way—with actual work. And she wasn’t asking for anything extra.

  What would her penname be? Salvation? Redemption? Sanctity? Beloved. . . ?

  Without realizing it at first, Herald had his full attention pointed in Law’s direction. Law faked a cough to assert that he was really present, despite the dazed look he presumably didn’t do well to hide. Gathering together his thoughts and the best copy of his rough draft, he slid it across the table. “It’s my five-point thesis.”

  Herald stood to reach it, then sat back, fingering through it with the ponderous expression he usually donned for occasions such as these. “Who do you suppose should lead Portsmith?” was the only item he addressed once he set it aside. It had passed Herald’s initial inspection, which Law knew from experience, wasn’t a given.

  It wasn’t a bad idea to toss him the proposal first. “Me,” Law admitted with a shrug. “As long as that’s the general consensus.”

  Herald didn’t openly laugh—a good sign—but there was a gleam in his eyes, which Law tentatively assumed was a show of support. “I will bring that to the table. I think we can get started,” he called out a little louder. “Bernie said she might be late and told us not to wait for her.”

  That settled that. It had the potential to be his debut, and yet there was no guarantee she’d make it there in time to witness it. Maybe it was just as well. He was breaking into a cold sweat at the mere thought of her presence.

  Parody’s needle stopped buzzing and Gospel and Blasphemy joined them at the table. Blasphemy set Hannah upon her bouncing knee and she contributed a gleeful burble to the commotion in the room. Doxy, the odd one out, lifted onto the counter behind Herald with a feline lightness. She was in a position that enabled her to look down on everyone. At her angle, Law’s eyes would be a direct shot if he hadn’t been perpetually deflecting them elsewhere.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Herald said once he had everyone’s attention. “And for bringing me such lovely material to review.” He turned to Blasphemy. “I wish we could print them all, but we’ll need to go through and make selections. Then we’ll be able to focus on the captions. Gospel. . .” Facts were his area of expertise. He glanced up. “Will you help her with that?” He gave Herald his slow nod. “And get it back to me by. . .”

  Herald’s head bobbed as he did the math, trying to come up with a day that was soon but not impossibly soon. The goal was to have the publication ready for distribution by the following Monday. That gave them only five days to get everything done.

  “Tomorrow,” Gospel replied, exchanging glances with Blasphemy. “You can count on it.”

  His hand flourished in approval. He would have given them more time if they had asked. “Fantastic. Thank you.”

  Layout. Order. Proofing. Re-writes. They continued to cross off items on the to-do list with uncharacteristic efficiency. Everyone was eager to meet the Sunday morning deadline.

  “Ah,” Herald said upon hearing the front door open. “Just in time.”

  Bernie whirled in with the breeze, her cheeks flushed from either the chill or the exertion. She was catching her breath as if she ran all the way over. “Sorry I’m late,” she muttered, pulling off her scarf.

  Law was about to rise from his seat and offer it to her, but Herald beat him to it. It was quick and subtle, but he caught a glimpse of Doxy’s smirk. It was unlikely anyone else had seen it, though. Law acted as if he hadn’t either.

  “No worries,” Herald said. “Saving lives is a time-consuming endeavor.” As Bernie removed her coat, he pulled out the chair and helped her scoot forward. The charm and chivalry came so naturally to him. Because he wasn’t burdened with the propensity to overthink it.

  Bernie was now seated directly across from Law. He wasn’t the first to acquire her gaze—that was Hannah—but he was a close second. Her expression was unreadable, but the focus she placed on him was both unapologetic and undeniable. Since his countenance had brightened considerably already, he simply greeted her by lifting a thumb and two fingers from the table.

  And there it was. An actual smile. At him. It wasn’t a gush, but more of a slight break in the mask she usually wore—pleasant but proper.

  Law broke the connection before it had a chance to betray him. He had probably lingered there a moment too long already.

  “Some have come, some have gone,” Herald began again, setting himself in motion. He liked to pace around. There was a professor who still resided within. “And it has been brought to my attention by Dr. Breckenridge. . .” He gave her credit with a direct look. She accepted it with a deeper blush. “We’re kicking off a new era and therefore the Chronicles could benefit from a new name, something that would suggest change.”

  From Law, Herald sought visual confirmation. Law placed his elbows on the table, crossing his hands beneath his chin as he considered it. Then he nodded his assent. It was a good suggestion, regardless of who had mentioned it. Law was never truly enamored with The Verity Chronicles, but that was what it had always been, ever since its Portsmith University induction.

  “Anyone not in favor? Speak now or forever hold your peace. . . ?”

  A headshake to the left of the table, an uncertain glance or two was passed to the right, but no one voiced any objection.

  “Good,” Herald confirmed. “Now we have to decide on a name more aligned with the times. Any ideas?”

  Law sat back as they painstakingly considered every mediocre word combination. Extemporaneous creative thinking wasn’t his forte, but he’d certainly throw his support to anyone who hit the mark.

  Reform . . . revolution . . . rebellion . . . review. They were stuck in the “R” family, trying to give it a ring. And nothing was really coalescing. Maybe they’d have to stick with TVC after all.

  When the debate hit a lull, Virtue finally spoke up. “The Rising Tide.” Her voice wasn’t exactly confident, but she didn’t seem to express any doubt about her offering, either. It rang the bell that everyone had been waiting for.

  Agreement began circulating around the room, no one too surprised that the answer came from her mouth.
Virtue did have a way with words. She was among the best, if not the best.

  “I like it,” Herald chimed in eventually, careful not to show favoritism. He was seeking her eyes and the appeal he made had layers. On the surface, he was her boss and he was impressed. Below it, there was grief, and I miss you, please come back to me, I’m so very sorry. But he couldn’t do anything more to make her see if she was refusing to look.

  Law would be the first to admit that it was hard to stand out among such talent. It was something he struggled with himself, every day, and there was no denying he had been given every advantage.

  Like always, work was the only way Herald knew how to cope. He strolled behind Virtue, eager to move on. “Well, if that’s settled, there’s one last item I’d like to discuss. This is the start of a new era and we’d be foolish to take the next step without a Commander in Chief. And I can’t tell you how relieved I am to say that the person who I’ve always admired, respected, loved like a brother, locked horns with every day for as long as I’ve known him. . .”

  Well, that gave it away. Everyone stopped looking at Herald and turned to see him at the exact moment he was swiping away a tear.

  “And so, the someone who I expect great things from has agreed to take on this colossal task. There is no one I know who would do a better job. And that’s why I’m giving Law . . . Mr. Adam Braintree . . . my unequivocal support. I’m certain you all agree, but just to be fair, I suggest we bring it to a vote, the majority rules.”

  Pieces of paper were allocated. Pens were distributed.

  There were five women, and three men, and Law opted out.

  So it had to be at least 4-3 for him to claim victory by “majority.”

  Let’s see. . .

  Doxy wasn’t his biggest fan.

  Parody would likely follow her lead.

  Hannah? Good thing she wasn’t voting!

  Bernie didn’t know him that well and he had made a lousy first impression. And a second one. And a third.

  Herald was a yes and his endorsement would surely help.

  Gospel? He was a probably.

  Blasphemy? Same.

  Virtue? He had no clue. Wouldn’t she choose Herald?

  He was highly concerned and these were his peers . . . his friends . . . his new family. If he hadn’t earned their approval, how could he possibly take down someone like Leviathan. . . ?

  Truth be told, he had a better chance of seeing God.

  But hey, stranger things have happened.

  ***

  What is taking her so long?

  Law took a position of watchful “disinterest.” He was staring off into space slightly to Bernie’s left while he probed for information as best he could out of the blurry corners.

  It was making his eyes water. Not good, because he was already more emotionally involved in the ballots cast than he should have been.

  Everyone else had made their selection. They handed the folded slip of paper back to Herald what felt like ages ago.

  Bernie, meanwhile, was giving each person their due. She was being covert about it, like Law was trying to be. Still, she was summing everyone up by their parts and making a conjecture by putting the pieces together, assessing if they “fit.”

  She was fascinating while deep in thought. He could practically see the gears turning. She knew science, but she also knew people. She could charm the rich, deceive the Authorities, console and heal the Fallow in secrecy, all in a day’s work.

  At long last, she scribbled something down, shielding her pen-strokes with her hand. And she handed back her slip.

  It was the moment of truth.

  Herald mixed them up and then, as if he were holding a hand of cards, he fanned them out and kept the mental tally to himself. He shifted a few around, presumably into the right orientation. Nothing appeared to slow him down as he moved from left to right.

  Upon reaching the last vote, the proverbial “lightbulb” gleamed in his eyes, accompanying what must have been the answer.

  Herald revealed his hand, piece by piece. “It’s unanimous. Law’s our winner.” He also picked up a slip from the row and held it up for everyone to see. “This one even has a smiley face.” Herald winked at Virtue, obviously able to pick out her handwriting even under anonymous circumstances.

  Her embarrassment was tempered with amusement. She nudged him in the hip with her elbow.

  Happy to get a positive reaction, he beamed back at Law. “Congratulations. You are our fearless leader now. But do us all a favor. Don’t let it get to your head.”

  More well wishes followed. Law was on his feet, accepting a handshake from Gospel. A hug from Blasphemy. Parody’s smile. Bernie’s direct eye contact and a “good luck.” And he was able to continue along that line of thinking. He could almost hear her unspoken you’ll need it. Doxy was smirking all the way up to one eyebrow, her way of saying, “I told you so.”

  Before the buzz had a chance to die down, Blasphemy started chanting, “Speech, speech, speech. . .”

  Enough of the others joined in, inspiring him to raise his hands in acquiescence. He did, indeed, have a few things to say. And they quieted down to hear it.

  “Thank you. I’m at a loss here. I’m . . . overwhelmed. I know I wouldn’t be here, accepting this role, without your courage and resilience . . . the light each and every one of you bring to times that have never been darker. Your uncontested faith in me is both empowering and terrifying. I hope I never let you down.”

  “We hope not either,” Herald chimed in, strolling into the sidelines. He took a casual stance, crossing his arms and one foot over the other as he leaned against the wall.

  “Oh, Herald. What would I do without you? You never cease to amaze me. You’ve made me a better writer . . . and a better person. And I am eternally grateful for your support. Keep doing what you’re doing. That’s an official sanction. The Rising Tide is the product of your hard work, and I would never think to intervene, not more than I usually do, that is.”

  Herald gave him the A-OK sign.

  “Gospel. . .” Law captured his eyes. “You are a true hero. We’re as different as night and day. But at the end of the day, I know you have my back. I don’t know what I did to deserve that, but I thank you all the same. It must mean I’m doing something right.”

  Gospel gave his nod, his face more pleasant than fierce. Law took that as his irrefutable assent. Perhaps it had always been there. You’re the only one he listens to. Barrett’s words. He would never understand loyalty the way Law did, but was he right?

  “Doxy and Parody. Spending time with you was. . .” He hesitated, chuckling. There were no words for that night, and yet he was scrambling for some anyway. “An eye-opening experience. Thank you for keeping me out of trouble . . . for the most part.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever drink that much again?” Parody chided. He could always count on the Fallow to keep him grounded in reality.

  Law touched the stitches on the side of his head. “I certainly hope not.” Amid the mild laughter, he focused in on his doctor.

  “Bernie. Welcome to the family. It was a blow to lose Corollary. He was a good and honest man. Brilliant too. He did lead us to you, after all. You have big shoes to fill, but I have no doubt you’ll deliver, and then some. Thank you for letting us into your life and giving us a fighting chance.”

  She didn’t give away any smiles gratuitously. And that made it all the more uplifting to receive one, nonetheless.

  “And while I’m thinking about it, there are a couple of other posts I’d like to fill.” His gaze mingled with everyone’s for a bit. He didn’t want to give anything away. “First off, there could never be a strong number one without an amazing number two. If something were to go wrong, I owe it to you to ensure the movement falls into highly capable hands. . . .”

  “We know it’s going to be Herald,” Doxy felt the need to inject.

  “I don’t want it,” Herald jumped in, his hands up. He glanced at Virtue.
She didn’t glance back.

  Law had to count to five before resuming. “Herald has enough to do,” he established as calmly as possible, and what he had said wasn’t exactly a new development. “And besides, I’ve always had someone else in mind. It will be a bold move. Unprecedented. Sacrilege to some. But to me, it’s common sense. This person is resourceful, wise beyond her years, quick thinking, fast acting, and both fearless and selfless when it counts the most. So, Blasphemy. . .” Her eyes flicked over, her confusion evident. “I would be honored and humbled if you would agree to join me. Please be my Lieutenant General. I value your opinion. I need you not just behind me but beside me, more than you know.”

  Blasphemy had been distracted by Hannah’s fidgeting to some extent. Then it clicked together for her, a moment after it had for everyone else. Judging by her gape, she was wondering if she had heard him right.

  Law nodded. And the resounding support seemed to snap her out of her daze. Gospel gave his nod to Law as if to say, “good call,” and had to pat her on the back to remind her to say yay or nay.

  “All right? Sure. . .” She shrugged out a what the heck. “Anything you need. I’m ready.”

  “That’s what I like to hear! And that leads me to my last, but certainly not least. I’d like to take a moment to read you something.” He dug through his notes and drafts and pulled out a typed and stapled document. It was, by far, the thickest one in his pile, full of mostly pompousness and corruption, but there were a few notable exceptions. “An old colleague of mine gave me a copy of the entire transcript from our hearing. Based on what people have told me they had seen and heard, I wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary. And yet. . .

  “My name is Herald . . . and so on and so forth . . .” He continued flipping through the pages. “My name is Blasphemy. Good job, by the way, telling them to shove it. But then, listen to this. . . .” He turned to the circled section where he had scribbled in notes followed by exclamation points. “‘I believe in love . . . not Bonding or Bearing unless the three blend and unify. Polygamy is now and never shall be best for everyone. As the plurality of marriage expands, a man may increase his status and yet his wives are left to question their worth. I also believe in a human’s right to express oneself, to act, to love openly without rules or boundaries . . . or penalty. And love can take many forms, and I believe adults should have control over their own bodies . . . their own thoughts . . . their own destinies . . . without fear of oppression. And if you told me I had the option to go back in time, and once again, make the choice to write or refuse, my path would not sway.’ And then the Holy Authority went on, ‘Is there anything else you’d like to say to clear your conscience?’ And what did she reply? ‘My name is Virtue. I’d rather die by that name than live another day forsaking it.’”