The Academy: Making of a Ruler (The Eagle King's Academy Book 1)

by C. C. Monö

  THE ACADEMY

  Making of a Ruler

  C.C. Monö

  Black Chair Publishing

  STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN

  Copyright © 2017 by C.C. Monö

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Black Chair Publishing

  Pilotgatan 42

  Stockholm, Sweden

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  THE ACADEMY/ C.C. Monö. -- 1st ed.

  ISBN 978-91-983963-2-4

  To Cindy, Zoey, and Emmy, who, despite all my hours at the computer, still seem to remember who I am.

  “Everything in my own immediate experience supports my deep belief that I am the absolute centre of the universe; the realest, most vivid and important person in existence.”

  David Foster Wallace –

  2005 Kenyon College Commencement Address

  PROLOGUE

  FOURTEEN MONTHS EARLIER

  The young man sat in the dark, staring out the window across the room into the starless night. He’d been sitting there for hours, listening to the old grandfather clock as it ticked depressingly behind him. Outside, dense fog had swept in over the garden, and it swirled above the ground. He watched its graceful movements, using it as a distraction from the dark thoughts gnawing at the back of his mind.

  At last, the phone rang.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s been decided,” a tired voice affirmed.

  “And?”

  “Listen, son, the others agree; it’s an enormous risk.”

  “I know the risks, Father,” the man said, wiping his clammy hands on his trousers. “We all know the risks, but what choice do we have?”

  “It’s the timing I’m worried about. We need to get a little stronger. Maybe we should wait another three years. Perhaps then…”

  “Three years is a long time,” the young man interrupted, his voice soft and respectful so as not to increase tension. “And while we may grow a little stronger, our enemy’s strength will increase tenfold. We need to do this now before it’s too late.”

  “Well, the decision has been made,” the old man muttered. “I don’t like it, mind you. No one does, but we’ll go ahead as planned.”

  In the dark, the young man exhaled. He did it as much out of fear as out of relief. He was no fool, the task ahead wouldn’t be easy, but it had to be done.

  Standing up, he walked over to the window. “And the plan?”

  “There’s a plan. A brilliant, but complicated, one. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”

  “All right, and when do we begin?”

  “Begin? Son, it has already begun.”

  CHAPTER 1

  Axel sat up in drowsy confusion. He threw a glance at the clock on his bedside table. 5a.m., on the dot! He sat without moving for a few seconds, straining to catch a sound in the darkness. At first, there was nothing. Then the doorbell let out an aggressive ringing that shredded the serenity.

  “Mother of…!”

  Axel threw the covers aside. It was Friday morning, a week in on the new year, and spring term wasn’t starting for another two weeks. Most of his friends were still out of town on holiday, and those still in the capital were no early risers.

  This can’t be good, he thought, snatching a pair of sweatpants from a nearby chair. While wrestling them on, he impressed himself with feats of extraordinary imagination, coming up with various reasons for this early visit. Most of them weren’t good. Maybe someone was ill or had died. Perhaps the house was on fire.

  He kept fretting until he reached the door and peered through the peephole. Baffled, he furrowed his brow and grabbed his jacket from the coat stand to pull on before opening the door.

  There was a brief moment of silence as he and the visitor regarded one another.

  “Uh…” Axel blinked and glanced down the empty corridor behind the stranger. What the hell was going on here? “Yes?”

  The woman gave him a wide, dimpled smile and took a step forward, her green eyes locked on his. “Good morning, Mr Hallman. It is a great pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” She had a tantalizing voice with a typical highborn-British accent. “I apologise for this rude intrusion, but we have a long day ahead of us.”

  Axel considered the woman. She was dressed in a black, tailored, business suit that did nothing to hide her well-shaped figure. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a French twist and when she extended her hand to shake his, a pair of diamond earrings glimmered in the cold, fluorescent light from the stairwell.

  “My name is Nicole Swan. May I come in?”

  Two conflicting thoughts collided in Axel’s head as he shook her firm grip. The reasonable one argued that he couldn’t let a stranger into his apartment. The less reasonable one, which was just as sensible from a twenty-two-year-old man’s perspective, concluded that Nicole was drop dead beautiful and didn’t look like a mass murderer.

  “So, may I?” she probed, nodding towards his apartment.

  Axel stepped aside as if commanded. Nicole strode into his apartment; a sweet, sensual scent wafting in behind her. The whiff of her perfume tickled his hormones, and Axel became terribly aware of his own appearance.

  “Eh…” he began and ran a hand through his messy hair.

  Nicole stepped into his small living room and gave him a charming smile. “So, would you prefer to get dressed before we talk, or vice versa? Either way is fine with me, sir.”

  Axel looked down at his open jacket.

  “Oh…eh…before?”

  “Splendid.”

  After pulling on a T-shirt and a sweater, Axel dashed into the bathroom. Seeing himself in the mirror, he let out a quiet moan. His grey eyes were red and puffy, and his hair a wild mess. It took half a bottle of gel to get it in to some kind of presentable state. After rinsing his face in cold water and dabbing his cheeks with too much aftershave, he hurried back into the living room.

  Nicole had moved in to the kitchen and was leaning over the counter, pouring boiling water into a cup. She laughed when he entered. “That was fast, Mr Hallman. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve made us some tea. It’ll be good for you, considering the weather.” Returning the kettle to its base, she pointed at the second drawer by the door. “Could you please hand me a spoon?”

  Axel frowned and considered the narrow drawer. Had that just been a lucky guess or did she know his cutlery was in the second drawer?

  “Thank you.” She accepted the teaspoon with a warm twinkle in her eye and fished out the teabags. Then, without hesitation, she opened the left cabinet under the sink and threw them in the dustbin.

  Axel swallowed. This was beyond creepy. How did she know which side of the cabinet he kept the garbage can?

  “There you go,” she said a second later, handing him one of the steaming cups. “Black and strong with a little bit of milk and no sugar.” Axel peered down at his cup with growing unease. Another lucky guess or did she know his tea habits? “It’s Kericho Gold,” Nicole continued, inhaling the sweet aroma rising from her cups. “Your favourite brand.”

  Axel frowned. Okay, no one could be that good at guessing. He took a tentative step forward, unable to decide whether he should be impressed or frightened by this strange wom
an’s knowledge of him.

  His confusion must have been evident, for Nicole let out a soft laugh. “Oh, I know a great deal about you, Mr Hallman. I know you study economics at Stockholm University, although I’m not sure you actually enjoy it. You go to the gym five days a week. You don’t drink alcohol because you hate the taste of it and because it contains too many calories. Your father worked as a diplomat for many years, so you grew up abroad. You co-started the successful Talk Thirteen organisation in South Africa nine years ago. Six and a half years have passed since you returned to Sweden. You find turtlenecks itchy, and your favourite colour is blue. When it comes to literature, you prefer fiction, especially suspense novels and thrillers. You listen to most kinds of music, but prefer rap and hip-hop.”

  An overwhelming sense of dread gripped Axel by the throat and in the back of his mind, a tiny thought began clamouring for attention. What if this woman was a psychopath? A beautiful, British psychopath.

  “I could go on,” Nicole continued, glancing at her watch, “but we better get started. Our flight leaves at nine-thirty.”

  “Hold on.” Axel felt his frustration bubble up to the surface. “I’m sorry, but what’s going on here? Who are you and what do you want?”

  Nicole laughed and gave him a polite bow without spilling a drop of tea from her cup. “Mr Hallman, I’m happy to inform you that you’ve been accepted to the Eagle King’s Academy. It is my great pleasure to be the first to congratulate you.”

  Axel gaped at the woman. “B-b-but…” he stammered, shaking his head in disbelief, “that’s not possible!”

  CHAPTER 2

  EIGHT MONTHS EARLIER

  Axel was standing on the depressing underground platform at Stockholm University. It was a dreadful place to be on a day like this. Above ground the sky was a vast blue. The trees seemed to glow in the sun, their spring-green coats rustling in the wind.

  It was one of the first sunny days of summer, and those who could were quick to embrace it. In the city, the streets and downtown docks were bustling with life. Around campus, pale students emerged with their computers and books, squinting at the bright light as they made their way to the nearby fields. There, where the bumblebees hummed, and the smell of freshly cut grass lingered, they gathered in small groups to study, converse, and flirt with one another.

  Yes, summer had arrived, but down here, deep underground, the air was still cold, damp, and raw. As was Axel’s mood at the moment. He stared at his best friend in disbelief. Had the man lost his mind?

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Of course I’m serious,” Mikael replied. “Why would I make that up?” He glanced at his phone before pocketing it. “Anyway, it’s just an application.”

  A group of students ambled by, engaged in a loud debate. They were so engrossed in their own conversation that they seemed oblivious to the world around them. One of them bumped into Axel, knocking his backpack off his shoulder.

  “Hey, watch it,” the woman growled and marched off before Alex had a chance to reply.

  He gritted his teeth. The world was full of them; egocentric idiots who thought they were the centre of the universe. “It’s not just an application,” he said, readjusting his backpack. “You know that. If you’re accepted, then you can’t back out. They’ll own you!”

  Mikael pulled at his thin moustache and made a face. “Geez, Axel! Why’d I want to back out? It’s the freaking Academy we’re talking about!”

  “My point exactly! People don’t apply to the Academy unless they dream of becoming a tyrant. It’s revolting.” Axel paused, knowing he sounded angry beyond reason. “You don’t want to become another Napoleon-wannabe, do you?” he asked, nodding towards the student who had bumped into him a few seconds earlier. “Aren’t there enough tyrants in the world already?”

  Mikael grinned while his eyes followed the departing woman. “Compared to many others, I think I’d be a rather good tyrant, don’t you?”

  “That’s not funny. The people who study at the E.K.A. are power-hungry narcissists trained to dominate others. Shit, we’re supposed to fight that kind of behaviour, not encourage it.”

  “Oh, come on!” Mikael laughed. “Don’t you ever get tired of being such a righteous do-gooder? You started Talk Thirteen and made it successful. How many hours have you spent on fundraising and securing donors? You’re a hero, my friend. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?”

  Mikael held out his hands in a sign of peace. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to piss you off. All I’m saying is that by being an Academy leader I will be able to make a real difference. And yes, I know there are tyrants in the world, but that’s just bad leadership. Good leadership is what saves mankind from these tyrants.”

  Axel rolled his eyes in frustration and began drumming his fingers against the strap of his backpack. “God, you sound like one of their bloody commercials.”

  He regarded the large underground billboard that had started their discussion a few minutes earlier. “The Eagle King’s Academy”, it announced, in large, gold letters on a dark background. Below was the Academy Logo: an eagle with its wings spread wide, a golden crown on its head. “Apply before the 30th of June,” it read at the bottom.

  There was no need for any additional information. Everyone knew what the Eagle King’s Academy was.

  The E.K.A., or the Academy as most people called it, had been established fifteen years ago. Its objective was to turn ordinary students, between the ages of twenty-two and twenty-five, into powerful, global leaders.

  Axel glared at the eagle on the poster, who glared back. Everyone seemed to agree that the Academy was the world’s number one leadership-training institution. Experts said it had revolutionised the entire industry, and no one disagreed. Axel might just be the only person on the planet who didn’t like the Academy. In fact, it represented everything he hated: dominance; superiority; control; and power. Why would Mikael be attracted to such things? He was a kind, warm-hearted, intelligent guy. Sure, he could be a little unconventional at times, no doubt about it, but he wasn’t stupid. This made no sense at all.

  Axel peered at his friend. They were an odd pair, the two of them. Axel was tall and lean, with wide shoulders and a large chest. He had golden-brown hair, a square jaw, and striking, grey eyes that he knew many women found attractive.

  Mikael, on the other hand, was blond, skinny, and short. A straw with arms, Axel thought. He concluded that, even with that dead earthworm glued to his lip, his friend looked fifteen rather than twenty-two. No moustache in the world could change that.

  Yet, despite their physical differences, the two of them usually had the same perspective on things. That was why Mikael’s behaviour was so disturbing. It was out of character.

  Axel peered into the tunnel. Where was that damn train?

  * * *

  With all the technology in the world, nothing could beat the traditional form of eavesdropping; being there, watching, listening, and observing. It was an art form and some were better at it than others.

  The inconspicuous man pulled his cap down a little lower, hiding the tiny scar above his right eye. It’d been years since he’d done this kind of work, but he felt confident, excited even. He knew he could melt into a crowd like a drop of water in a pond. It came natural to him, which was why they’d asked him to do this. The Box needed him. This was a delicate assignment, and they needed someone who spoke the language.

  The observer took a casual step towards Axel and his friend. The platform was filling up with loud students and he was struggling to hear what the two men were saying.

  “Aren’t you the least bit tempted to apply?” came Mikael’s voice. “We have one shot. By the next application period, we’ll be too old.”

  While fidgeting with the strap of his backpack, Axel shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again.

  He’s genuinely not interested in the Academy, the observer thought in amazeme
nt, moving a little to the side so the camera in his shirt button could catch the young Swede’s facial expression. Maybe the others are right. Maybe he’s our best choice.

  “I’m so bloody tired of constant talk about leadership,” Axel muttered, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets with force. “Everyone wants to be a leader, an E.K.A. leader in particular. It’s just selfish. All they want is power.”

  Mikael continued with his ridiculous habit of pulling at his moustache. “I disagree. If I am accepted, I’ll have the chance to make this world a better place. Anything I’d say would be valued. Anything I’d do would get attention. I would be able to influence the entire world. How can that be bad?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Because no one should have that kind of power,” Axel barked. Then, as if someone had just pierced his bubble of fury, his shoulders slumped a little and his eyes fell upon his feet. “It’s just plain wrong.”

  Mikael shook his head.

  “People need someone to lead them. It’s human nature.”

  “Christ,” Axel moaned. “You’ve lost it, haven’t you?”

  “On the contrary, but I’m beginning to question your sanity. E.K.A. graduates are already running key global organisations. They’ve built the most successful companies in the world. They’ll solve our environmental problems, end wars, and improve living standards for millions of people. They’re our future and people love them. They’re good leaders.”

  “They’re powerful, that’s what they are! What happens if the Academy trains the wrong kind of person?”

  The observer smiled. Good question, he thought to himself, but Mikael showed no appreciation for the question. He just laughed.

  “The wrong person? Are you aware that more than a hundred thousand people entered the application process last time? This year they expect twice as many. Out of all these people they choose twelve students. So, no, Axel, the Academy won’t accept anyone who can’t handle power.” For the first time since they began their discussion, Mikael let his frustration show. “Why are you so upset, anyway? I’m the one applying, not you.”