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

by C. C. Monö

  “Don’t worry,” she said, her dimpled smile beaming in warm light. “I believe Dr Vella’s in a good mood today. I even heard her whistling a little tune on her way to her office. Rupert on the other hand…”

  Axel knitted his brows.

  “Hold on. Dr Vella’s the psychologist?”

  “Actually, she’s a psychiatrist so she’s also a trained medical doctor.”

  Axel’s mind reeled back to the Speechomat incident. Of course! He remembered the article and the instructions that had followed it. “Ask Dr Vella”. At the time, he thought it a little strange, but now it made perfect sense. Dr Vella was a shrink!

  The door to the waiting room opened and the doctor in question stepped in. With one hand on the door handle and the other in the pocket of her white lab coat, she gave Axel a nod.

  “Right on time, Mr Hallman. Please come with me.”

  “Good luck,” Nicole mouthed and winked.

  Axel returned the wink, feeling his mood improving. This might turn out to be a far more interesting session than he’d expected.

  Dr Vella’s office was bright and inviting. It wasn’t as large as Professor Jackson’s office but big enough to hold a set of large armchairs, a mahogany desk, a few bookshelves, and a coffee table with burning candles. There was also a couch occupied by an orange tabby cat, a massive and ugly thing that glared at Axel with devilish eyes. Yuck!

  “His name is Rupert,” Dr Vella explained. “He lives here on the eleventh floor.”

  “Is he yours?”

  “God, no. I believe it was Principal Cunningham who first brought him to the Academy many years ago. Now he’s just part of the inventory, I suppose. No one likes the creature, and it’s a standing joke that the Academy leaves Rupert behind whenever we move to a new location. Yet here he is,” she cackled.

  Axel approached the cat and it hissed at him.

  “I wouldn’t get any closer if I were you,” Dr Vella warned. “Rupert is a little grumpy today. He bit one of the cleaners in the finger. It’s the second time this week, so I suggest we let him be.” She gestured towards one of the chairs. “Why don’t you take a seat over there instead? Do you want some tea?” She strode over to a small table, which held a kettle, a few cups and a wooden box with various teas. “I have some Kericho Gold if you like.”

  “Sure.”

  “And you want milk in it, I believe.”

  “Yes, please.” Axel took a seat and scanned the room. “It’s a nice office you’ve got. Cosy.”

  “Thank you, but I can’t take any credit for it. Our interior designer did all the work.”

  “The Academy has its own interior designer?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me,” Axel mumbled and thought about the conversation he’d just had with his friends.

  The doctor watched him with arched eyebrows.

  “That’s an interesting comment. Would you care to elaborate?”

  “No, can’t say I would.”

  “Ah.” Dr Vella handed Axel his tea and sat down. She grabbed a notebook from the coffee table and smirked. “So, do you know why you’re here?”

  The question made Axel cringe. Painful memories from Black Sunday flashed through his mind; the way Dr Vella had tried to crawl under his skin, finding the darkest corners of his soul. He sipped his tea. This time she wouldn’t dominate him.

  “I suppose you want to make sure I’m not going cuckoo.”

  “Are you?”

  “Isn’t that your job to find out?”

  “It would be easier if you just told me.” She paused and then let out a little laugh. “No, you’re not here to be judged sane or insane, Mr Hallman. We established your sanity long before you were accepted. No, I just want to make sure you’re doing okay. You’re young and yet we expect you to know more about ruling people than any living king or president. That kind of pressure can be demanding to say the least, and...”

  Axel wasn’t listening, he was gathering courage.

  “What happened to Sarah Wangai?” he blurted.

  Dr Vella’s face lost all colour. For a moment, she gaped at him with a blank stare. Then she blinked as if waking up from a dream.

  “Who told you about Ms Wangai?” she stammered.

  “I’ve read about it. In an article,” he added.

  “What article? Where did you find it?”

  “It…it was just something I stumbled across.”

  “Where?” Dr Vella’s eyes were hard as rock. “Where did you read it?”

  It struck Axel that perhaps he should’ve thought this through a little better. He hadn’t prepared for this kind of reaction. That was a mistake.

  “Well, I don’t remember,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “It was a long time ago. I might have stumbled across it at the Stockholm University library.”

  “I doubt it,” Dr Vella said and adjusted her white lab coat. She seemed lost in thought for a second and then gave him a forced smile. “Anyway, we’re not to discuss Ms Wangai.”

  “I read that she killed herself.”

  Dr Vella’s smile vanished like a snowflake in a frying pan.

  “She didn’t! It was a terrible accident. Now let’s move on, certain things are not meant to be discussed.”

  Axel thought for a moment. The doctor’s behaviour was interesting. What was she hiding? Why was she so nervous?

  “Things that are not meant to be discussed are usually secrets,” he tried, knowing he was pushing it.

  “It’s not a matter of keeping anything secret,” Dr Vella snapped. “I just don’t want to discuss this with you.”

  Axel fidgeted with an imaginary spot on his teacup. He’d already pushed Dr Vella more than he felt comfortable doing. And she was right, of course; why would she discuss these things with a student? The most logical and respectful thing to do right now was to back off.

  “I’ve never been to a psychologist before,” he said almost apologetically. “I don’t feel comfortable sharing my inner thoughts with a stranger.”

  Dr Vella relaxed. She crossed one leg over the other, balancing her notebook over her top leg.

  “That’s completely natural, Mr Hallman,” she replied, her voice softening.

  Axel couldn’t help but grin.

  “I’m glad to hear that, doctor, because I’m sure there are questions you want to ask, that I’m not interested in answering. The way I see it, you have to meet me half way.”

  CHAPTER 76

  Despite everything, Professor Jackson was pleased. Few things were more rewarding than seeing his students evolve. The fact that Axel was asking questions about Sarah Wangai was worrying. Very worrying. Yet, his attitude was decent, without a doubt an improvement. Sure, the young Swede had a long way to go before he could call himself a leader, but daring to challenge Dr Vella was a step in the right direction.

  Watching his screen, he could see Dr Vella’s baffled expression.

  “Oh my, Mr Hallman,” she blurted. “I must admit I am surprised.”

  Professor Jackson moaned. She hadn’t seen that coming, had she? He tapped the microphone button on his headset.

  “Tell you what, Dr Vella. Give Mr Hallman a little information. I’m curious to see where he’s heading with this.”

  Just how much did Axel know, who’d given him the information, and why?

  * * *

  Axel watched Dr Vella with interest. She seemed bewildered by his action so he decided to push her a little further.

  “So this is how I see it,” he began and moistened his lips with his tongue, “the Year of Eleven was just a cover-up. Right? I remember my parents discussing it after the graduation ceremonies. Everyone was surprised that the Academy had only found eleven students worth training. But it wasn’t eleven, was it? Sarah was the twelfth student. But she died, and you had to come up with a lie to explain why eleven students graduated instead of twelve.”

  Dr Vella leaned forward and pointed a trembling finger at him.r />
  “What I’m about to tell you…” Her eyes narrowed and she lowered her voice. “What I’m about to tell you must never leave this room! Is that clear?”

  Axel kept his face straight, but inside he cheered. God, he was good.

  “Of course, Doctor.”

  “Well, then you’re right. The ‘Year of Eleven’ is a lie. It happened before I came to the E.K.A. There were twelve students, one of them was Sarah Wangai, a bright, committed, and very stubborn young woman. She was born in poverty, but, by the time she was accepted, she was already running a small orphanage in Tanzania.

  “Yet despite her many skills, Ms Wangai had two clear limitations. First of all, she had difficulty dealing with the stress and pressure that comes with being a leader. The Academy may seem harsh at times but that’s nothing compared to the world that awaits you, Mr Hallman. Anyone attending the Academy will be at the very top of the hierarchy, and if you intend to remain up there you must be able to deal with the stress and pressure that comes with the territory. Like I said, you’re all young and the people you’ll be facing will be three times as old and three times more experienced.

  “Ms Wangai was also an introvert. She shunned social gatherings and had difficulty trusting people. As a result, she didn’t share her burdens with anyone. No one knew how she felt and therefore no one could help her.” Dr Vella reached for her cup. “So she pushed herself too far. One night, the students organised a party. Ms Wangai drank far too much alcohol and stumbled out to a balcony for air. Somehow she tripped and fell over the railing.”

  “The article said she committed suicide,” Axel challenged.

  “That’s not correct. It was just a terrible accident. If anyone’s to blame, it’s Ms Wangai and her drinking problem.”

  “Wait. I never read anything about her having a drinking problem.”

  “She did; it was her way of dealing with pressure. Had I been given a chance to talk to her, I could’ve helped her, but I wasn’t working here at the time.”

  Axel was finding the idea difficult to accept.

  “Are you saying that no one saw it coming?”

  “No one but a psychiatrist could have foretold what would happen, Mr Hallman. That’s why Professor Jackson hired me.”

  Axel chose not to answer and his silence seemed to trouble the doctor. She pulled on the side of her lab coat and readjusted the empty notepad in her lap.

  “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but when Ms Wangai died, Professor Jackson demanded that a psychologist be hired. From what I’ve been told, Principal Cunningham said no at first.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure. What I do know is that the assistant principal is responsible for the application process and the choosing of our students. The principal has a veto right but will rarely use it. Perhaps Principal Cunningham was blaming Professor Jackson?”

  Axel stared at Dr Vella.

  “Are you telling me Professor Jackson is responsible for choosing the students?”

  “Yes. You seem surprised.”

  “To tell you the truth, I am!” Actually, Axel felt more shocked than surprised. More than once, Professor Jackson had expressed his doubt in Axel’s leadership skills. Why had he then chosen him to begin with? “I thought he didn’t like me much.”

  Dr Vella waved a finger at him.

  “Tsk-tsk. Don’t judge the book by its cover, Mr Hallman. Professor Jackson cares for his students and he cares for the reputation of the Academy. He understands the game of power far better than any other teacher. I’d say even better than Principal Cunningham. He may seem stern but he merely wants what’s best for you. I’m sure you’ve noticed, for example, that he’s much more involved with his students than the principal is.”

  Axel’s brows bent inwards in suspicion.

  “You don’t sound very fond of Principal Cunningham.”

  “Oh, no, not at all,” Dr Vella replied. “He’s a great man, Principal Cunningham. A great man!”

  CHAPTER 77

  Damn it! Professor Jackson clenched his fists, took a deep breath to control his temper, and then pressed the microphone button.

  “Well done, Dr Vella,” he praised, knowing how much his approval meant to her. “I believe you’ve given Mr Hallman something to think about. You can now move on to your intended questions.”

  He turned off the microphone and picked up his phone. A moment later, Mr Nakata answered and Professor Jackson wasted no time.

  “The article!” Professor Jackson spat. “The one about Ms Wangai. You told me it was eradicated.”

  Mr Nakata was silent for a moment.

  “It was. Why you ask?”

  “Mr Hallman just referred to it!”

  Mr Nakata was silent again.

  “What he say?”

  “He said he read that Ms Wangai committed suicide.”

  “Impossible,” Mr Nakata snorted.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because article was very small, printed in local newspaper in Dar es Salaam. It was interview with Ruth, the old woman working at orphanage. She say Academy had accepted Ms Wangai, but she disappeared. It never say anything about death.”

  Professor Jackson felt his blood boil. Shit!

  On his screen, Dr Vella checked her watch. “Oh dear. Time flies, Mr Hallman. We need to move on. Why don’t we start with you telling me a little bit about your relationship with your parents?” Professor Jackson closed his eyes and began to massage his temples. “I need you to do a little investigation,” he whispered. “See if there are any other articles on Ms Wangai. Start with Stockholm University library. Mr Hallman said he might have read it there.”

  “This is not good.”

  “You’re damn right. Now get to work.”

  “Hai.”

  “And, as always, keep it to yourself.”

  Professor Jackson hung up. He leaned forward, elbows on his desk and head resting in the palms of his hands. As far as he could tell, someone was feeding Axel dangerous information, and unless Mr Nakata found evidence suggesting otherwise, Professor Jackson would have to act.

  CHAPTER 78

  Staggering out of Dr Vella’s office, Axel felt like he was leaving a battleground. It had taken all he could muster to protect himself from the doctor’s snooping and prying. Certain things were too private to share with anyone, especially the Academy. Who knew when they might use it against him?

  On weary legs, Axel walked out into the waiting room and found Nicole gone. She’d left behind a half-empty coffee cup and the remnants of her sweet perfume. He stood a moment, staring at her vacant chair, wondering what to do next. He had a class with Professor Plouffe in twenty minutes. Until then, he might as well take a quick stroll around the block. It might help him clear his head.

  It was a cold, sunny winter’s day. Axel strolled down the sidewalk, made a right at the next corner and bumped into Mr Milton.

  “Oh, sorry.”

  The concierge manager was standing with his phone in his hand and looked up somewhat bemused.

  “Good afternoon, Mr Hallman. Out for a walk?”

  “Yes, I needed some fresh air.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to search elsewhere for ‘fresh’ air,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of Avenue Louise. “I’m not too bothered though.” Mr Milton held up the cigarette he was smoking, before taking a deep drag. He pocketed his phone. “How are you finding your time with us, Mr Hallman?”

  Axel shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall of the building.

  “It’s nice. Very luxurious.”

  “I’m glad you appreciate it.”

  “It must have cost a fortune.”

  Mr Milton glanced out on Avenue Louise and took another drag.

  “I’m sure it did, sir.”

  Axel nodded.

  “How long have you been working for the E.K.A?” he asked.

  Mr Milton gave him a forced smile.

  “I’m not the on
e to remind you, sir, but is it wise to mention that name out here? One never knows who’s listening.”

  Axel could have slapped himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Mr Nakata would’ve killed him if he found out.

  “Well, I’ve checked and we’re fine,” he lied, not wanting a staff member to know he’d made such a novice mistake.

  The concierge manager bowed his head.

  “I’m sorry for implying otherwise, sir.” He took another drag, threw the cigarette on the ground before stepping on it with his well-polished shoes. “To answer your question, Mr Hallman, I’ve been working here for fifteen years.”

  “And how do you deal with it all?”

  “With what, sir?”

  “The secrecy.”

  Mr Milton’s eyes flickered between Axel and the world around them.

  “One gets used to it after a while,” he mumbled.

  “Must get lonely at times,” Axel pressed on. “Being so isolated, I mean.”

  “I wouldn’t say so, sir. Working here is a way of life, and my colleagues are more of a family to me than the one I was born into. We may come from all over the world and be of all ages but we share the same peculiar experience and that binds us together.”

  “So it’s always the same staff?”

  “But of course! Confidentiality is everything to us. No one gets hired on a short-term basis.”

  Axel raised his head towards the sky in a casual manner, pretending to enjoy the little warmth that the late winter sun had to offer.

  “It’s quite amazing that they can keep everyone quiet. I mean with so many employees, not to mention the students, family members, and guest lecturers.”

  “Indeed.” Mr Milton pushed back his glasses. “I’m sorry, sir, but I must return to the reception.”

  “Me too. Mind if I join you?” They began strolling back to the main entrance. “Fifteen years. That’s a long time.”

  “It is.”

  “So you were here when Ms Wangai died?” Mr Milton flinched. Axel nearly missed it, but he saw it, and that meant he was on to something. “Were you there when she fell off the balcony?” he asked.

  Mr Milton stopped short of the main entrance and shook his head.