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

by C. C. Monö

  CHAPTER 11

  TWELVE YEARS EARLIER

  With eyes filled with wonder, Sarah watched the large city pass by from the back seat of the most luxurious car she’d ever seen. There was plenty of time to take in the view. Traffic here was slow and noisy; similar to the streets back home, only there were fewer cars and a lot more scooters. There was another difference. While the streets in Dar es Salaam reminded her of a slow-moving hoard of elephants, the boulevards here in Da Nang had a certain organised frenzy to them. Like ants around a nest. It made her all giddy. There were people everywhere, yet somehow they all managed to avoid each other.

  Sarah had never been outside Tanzania, let alone Africa. Now all of a sudden, she was in a new city, in a new country, on a new continent. The thought was mind-numbing. She’d read about Vietnam before, both in school and in the newspaper, but never had she imagined her feet would touch its soil.

  “You’re awfully quiet, miss,” Mr Garner said. “Is something troubling you?”

  “Oh, no sir. It’s just a lot to see.”

  “And a lot for you to take in, I imagine.”

  He said it without arrogance or abasement. It was a simple fact, and Sarah knew he was right. There was much she hadn’t seen or experienced in her life; so much she had to learn. Some might regard that as a disadvantage, but to Sarah it was only a temporary setback. She would learn. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d understood that knowledge was the fastest way out of poverty. That’s why she wanted all her children, every single one of her orphans, to learn how to read and write. With those two skills, they could learn anything.

  “Ms Wangai, I must warn you that most of the students you’ll meet tonight come from upper-class families. They’ll expect you to behave in a certain…manner.”

  The man tugged at the cufflink on his right sleeve, and Sarah smiled. How sweet of Mr Garner to worry for her, she thought, as she folded her hands in her lap.

  “I know there are people who believe that being poor is the same as being stupid. I’m sure the other students are wiser than most people.”

  The corner of Mr Garner’s lips twitched. “Of course,” he said with a soft voice. “Still, when we arrive you have an appointment with Mr Bell. He’s one of our teachers and specialises in culture and etiquette. He’ll help you get organised before the introduction dinner tonight. That’s when you’ll meet the other students.”

  Sarah beamed.

  “Oh, that’s very kind of you, Mr Garner. I’ll make you proud.”

  Mr Garner bowed his head a little.

  “You have a good heart, Ms Wangai,” he said and turned back to his window.

  CHAPTER 12

  PRESENT MOMENT

  “Welcome Mr Hallman,” said a recorded voice. “Your entertainment and communication system is now activated.”

  Puzzled, Axel stepped into an airy hallway and drew a deep breath.

  “Wow, what’s that wonderful smell?”

  Mr Milton whiffed the air with a frisky expression.

  “I’m not sure, sir. We have a brilliant fragrance expert. She’ll create new, personal fragrances for your apartment on a regular basis.”

  “You have a person who just works with smells?”

  Mr Milton scrunched his face in distaste. “We use the words fragrances or scents, sir, not smells. And yes, we have such a person employed with us. You’ll be amazed at the extent to which different scents affect our moods. She is very important to us.” Mr Milton shut the door behind them. “Anyway, before I show you around, would you care for something from the kitchen?”

  “That would be great! I’m starving.”

  “Then what would you like, sir? Perhaps Vietnamese Pho Ga soup or a Brazilian feijoada? Maybe something vegetarian, for example an Indian Baingan bharta?” Seeing Axel’s blank expression, Mr Milton laughed. “Perhaps something more familiar then; sushi or a roasted chicken with lemon garlic butter?”

  “Well, chicken would be nice.”

  “Chicken it is.”

  While Mr Milton called the kitchen, Axel pulled off his jacket and shoes, before entering his new home. The living room was about twice the size of his entire apartment in Stockholm. Warm light, thick rugs, and a wide bookshelf created a sense of intimacy and personality. A chessboard stood set up on a coffee table, along with a guidebook on Brussels. Someone had also gone to the trouble of creating beautiful flower arrangements, which, along with a number of potted trees, gave the room both colour and life. In one corner there was a massive fireplace, but the true centrepiece was, without a doubt, a gigantic aquarium built into one of the walls.

  A shark, the length of Axel’s leg, swam back and forth along the sandy bottom. Colourful schools of fish fled its path in panic. Like a bully on the playground, Axel thought to himself, and decided he didn’t appreciate the shark. But the aquarium was remarkable.

  “This is amazing! It’s like a window under the sea.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll pass on your compliments to the E.K.A. interior designer.”

  Next in line was the kitchen.

  “I know it’s not very big,” Mr Milton apologised, “but I’m sure you’ll eat most of your meals in the restaurant with the other students. Or order up food. However, should you want to eat here you’ll find anything you need, whether it’s for cooking or dining.”

  Opposite the kitchen was a home movie theatre room with all kinds of technological gadgets. It would have been nice to explore it all, but unfortunately, Mr Milton seemed eager to move on.

  Next stop was Axel’s new study. It was a beautiful room – well organised and stylishly furnished – but in one corner stood a hideous object. It was a vast thing, looking like a black, oversized refrigerator with a curved wall.

  “What in the world is that?”

  “Why don’t you have a closer look, sir?” Mr Milton asked and opened a door on the side of the box.

  Axel peered in and raised his brows. “A podium?”

  “Yes. Please step in and I’ll show you how it works.”

  To be completely honest, Axel felt a fair bit of apprehension as he stepped up behind the podium. There was a twinkle in Mr Milton’s eyes that worried him. “Okay, now what?”

  “How does it feel, sir?”

  “I’m standing behind a podium in a small box, so kind of silly right now.”

  “Ah, but what if you weren’t standing in a small box.” Mr Milton laughed, grabbing a remote control from the podium table. “Do you see the glasses over there?”

  Axel bent over and pulled out a pair of spectacles from a shelf under the table. “These?”

  “Yes. They’re special 3D glasses developed by the Academy. Put them on, please.”

  While Axel did so, Mr Milton pressed another button on the remote. The box came alive. The entire inside of the machine lit up. In the far distance, snow-covered mountains pointed their sharp peaks towards a blue sky, and straight ahead, a black dot materialised. As it grew in size, Axel identified it as a proud and graceful eagle. It flew right over his head, wearing a golden crown, glimmering in warm afternoon light. Axel could even feel the wind from its wings as it passed. It felt so real he ducked.

  The eagle made an elegant turn and came flying in from the left. It landed in front of Axel, giving him a deep bow with one wing tucked under its chest, before fading out. The whole thing took no more than a few seconds. Now Axel was gawking at a crowd of about a hundred people, all clapping their hands in polite anticipation.

  “My God!” Axel exclaimed.

  “It’s fantastic, isn’t it?”

  “It’s so real!”

  “We call it the Speechomat. It’s for training your communication skills. Let me show you how it works. He pressed one of the buttons. “Now say something.”

  “Such as?” Axel asked, before throwing his hands over his ears. “Ouch!” he cried as his words came back in amplified strength.

  Mr Milton was quick to adjust the volume.

  “Sorry a
bout that, sir. It appears Greg tested your Speechomat.”

  “Greg?”

  “He’s one of our computer engineers. Has hearing like a ninety year old with earplugs, but he’s the most competent engineer we have. If he built this Speechomat, then you can rest assured it works. Anyway, you can control the volume here.” Mr Milton pointed at two buttons on the remote. “Now, do you want to give it a try?”

  Axel regarded the crowd and felt his excitement blossom.

  “Sure.”

  “Excellent, sir. As soon as I’ve closed the door, all you have to do is press the green button. If you want to, you can change the size of the crowd and the level of difficulty with these two buttons.” Mr Milton showed him on the remote. “Just remember that the Speechomat is soundproof, so if you want to speak to me, you’ll have to press that yellow button in the corner of the podium. Yes, that one.” Mr Milton paused. “I think that’s it. Are you ready?”

  “I guess.”

  Mr Milton smiled and closed the door. The light in the Speechomat dimmed, leaving Axel alone with the virtual audience. He was about to press start when a thought struck him.

  “Mr Milton,” he asked, pressing down the yellow button. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What shall I talk about?”

  “It doesn’t matter, sir. The audience reacts to how you deliver your speech, not what you say. Talk about your favourite colour, the political situation in the Middle East, or the production of wine glasses. It’s up to you. My only advice is that you pick a topic and then stick to it. Don’t talk nonsense. The crowd reacts to your entire speech, not just word for word or sentence for sentence. If you talk gibberish, the crowd will pick up on it and react.”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  Axel pressed the “start” button.

  “Eh…hello.”

  The audience began to applaud at once. Axel was amazed. It felt so real it was frightening.

  “I hope you’re all doing well,” he continued. The crowd clapped a little harder. “I’ve just arrived here at the E.K.A. and Mr Milton is showing me around the apartment. I must say it’s fantastic.”

  As he spoke with increasing confidence, the audience remained silent, but as soon as he stopped, they all rose from their seats and began to clap as if mad. The overwhelming enthusiasm wasn’t natural. Axel pressed a red “stop” button on the remote. In an instance, the audience were sitting down again, their faces neutral. So this was an easy audience. How would a hard one behave?

  He flipped through different options and settled for a crowd of one hundred thousand protestors. He chose a difficulty level of nineteen out of twenty-two. Then with butterflies in his stomach, he pressed start.

  Once more the screen flickered and before he knew it, he was standing outside with the sun beaming down on him. It was amazing. The light in the Speechomat had increased, and so had the temperature. A few trees behind the crowd were swaying in the wind, and a light breeze within the Speechomat followed the movement of the trees. Just as in real life, the wind would sometimes increase or decrease in strength and as soon as Axel felt the change, he could see it in the movement of the trees.

  A hundred thousand people were standing below him, glaring at him with angry eyes. Some held large placards with text too small to read. A long line of police officers kept the protestors away from the podium. Axel cleared his throat.

  “Dear ladies and gentlemen,” he began. At once, the crowd began to hoot. Baffled, he lost his focus. This didn’t sit well with the crowd, leading to more hoots and shout. The crowd began to push forward while the police did their best to hold them back.

  “Eh…I’m thrilled to be here at the E.K.A.,” Axel tried, but fell silent as more and more people began to shout at him. The crowd kept pushing forward. “I…no!”

  A police officer struck a man in the crowd with a baton. The man fell to his knees. The people closest to the injured man reacted in pure anger. They began to strike at the officer with their bare hands. The police, protected by their large shields, struck back. Things were getting out of control.

  “Please step back,” Axel yelled. He was now completely absorbed in what was going on. “Just stop!” Neither the crowd nor the police were listening. “I’m ordering you to stop!”

  Now the crowd reacted but not as Axel had hoped. A few of the police officers turned with startled expressions on their faces. That moment of distraction allowed a young woman to pass through the police line. Before Axel had time to react she ran up to the podium threw something at him: a tomato.

  What the…

  Something whistled past his head and struck the wall behind him. You’ve got to be kidding me. Two more objects flew past and then, with a large splash, something wet and slimy hit him right under the eye.

  “Ouch!” he shouted before yet another slimy tomato struck him, this time on the forehead. “Shit!” He blinked. Several people were now pushing through the police line while tomatoes whooshed past his head. “Mr Milton!”

  Desperate to escape, Axel jumped back and slammed right into the wall behind him, making the entire machine shake. Another tomato struck him on the chin. “Stop!”

  CHAPTER 13

  The tomatoes struck him like slimy tennis balls. One hit him so hard his 3D glasses fell off his face and he tumbled against the Speechomat.

  “Ouch!” Axel yelled.

  He was beginning to panic when the door opened and Mr Milton leaned in with a chuckle. He grabbed the remote and pressed “Stop”.

  “Sorry about that, sir. I should have warned you not to pick a difficult crowd.”

  “Why…they were throwing tomatoes at me.” Axel wiped his face with the back of his hand. “You have a machine that throws tomatoes?”

  Mr Milton’s thin lips pulled back into his opossum-like grin.

  “They’re not real tomatoes, sir. They’re made of a harmless substance, invented by our engineers. In fact, I believe Greg had something to do with it.” Mr Milton picked something up from the floor. “See. It feels wet and cold when you touch it, but it’s dry and it won’t leave a stain. The sensation will fade in a minute or so.”

  He handed Axel a soft, red ball of slime, about the size of a tennis ball. It had the same feeling as a wet towel. Axel placed it on the podium table, but even after he’d dropped it, the wet sensation remained on his fingers.

  “How did you know when to come in,” Axel wondered. “I thought you said you couldn’t hear me.”

  “I didn’t, but when the Speechomat began to wobble, I suspected you needed help.

  “Sorry about that.”

  Mr Milton’s eyebrows dipped, forming the shape of a V.

  “You mustn’t apologise, sir. Your reaction is normal. One of our previous students punched a hole in the screen on his first attempt. He was trying to protect himself from an angry mob. Shall we move on?”

  Axel placed his glasses under the podium table and looked at the mess around him.

  “What about these…tomatoes?”

  “Just leave them there, sir. The maid will deal with them.”

  Axel stepped out of the Speechomat and rubbed his face. The wet sensation was already beginning to fade, but he still felt dazed by the whole experience.

  “It feels real in there, doesn’t it, sir,” Mr Milton continued.

  “Yeah, for a moment I thought the crowd would climb onto the stage.”

  “Believe me, sir. In a year or so, you’ll be able to control a crowd that size without even thinking about it. Oh,” he said, pulling out a silk handkerchief and removing some red goo from Axel’s back. “Just a little tomato-slime,” he said and grimaced.

  “Thanks. So how does it work? The Speechomat, I mean.”

  “You mean the technical aspect of it? I’m not sure, sir. I just know how it works in practice. Now, before I forget –” Mr Milton pointed at a small laptop sitting on a height-adjustable desk “– all the necessary passwords for your computer can be found i
n the introduction manual. You’ll find it in your bedroom, sir. Let me show you.”

  The bedroom, situated at the end of the apartment, was, like the rest of the apartment, spacious and light. On a king-size bed, which held a ridiculous number of fluffy pillows, lay parcels in various colours and sizes. Curious, Axel made his way over to have a closer look.

  “Oh, that’s just some clothes and other necessities you might need,” Mr Milton explained, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Some are given by the Academy, but most are donated by our sponsors and partners. You can go through them later.”

  “Is that a welcoming mint on the pillow?”

  “Yes, sir,” Mr Milton replied without throwing the bed a second glance. He made his way to a narrow desk by the window. Ignoring the packages and paper bags that lay there, he picked up a thin, leather folder and handed it to Axel.

  “This is your introduction manual. You’ll find a lot of important information in it. We ask all our students to go through it in detail. You’re expected to read it before dinner tonight.” Turning, he pointed at a door by the other end of the room. “The main bathroom is in there. The maid will replace your towel every day, and the toothbrush twice a week.”

  “A new toothbrush twice a week?”

  “Yes. Now one last piece of important information.” Mr Milton picked up a package. “Here’s your new phone; the most advanced available, of course. Our IT department has installed everything you need on it, including a new SIM card with all relevant phone numbers. Your old phone needs to be handed in for safety reasons.”

  “What? Now?”

  “Yes, please. Your new phone won’t trigger the security alarm at the entrance.”

  “Can I keep the old phone case? I use it as a wallet.”

  “Yes, sir, although I believe there’s a new wallet among your gifts.”

  Axel pulled his phone out of its case and, with a sense of loss, handed it to Mr Milton.

  “What about photos and my music etc.”

  “Not a problem, sir. I’ll ask IT to transfer them onto your new phone at once. That said, I must also inform you that you won’t have access to any of your social media accounts from now on. It’s far too risky.”