by GR Griffin
“Don’t forget Arthur,” she turned off the engine, unbuckling her seatbelt. She made no move to get out the car. “There are many in the board room who will support you. Not all of them are as narrow-minded as Uther, many were friends of Gaius and wish nothing more than to see his swift release.”
Gaius. Oh. Arthur felt a pang of guilt flush over his body. Shit. Was the poor man even alive? Merlin hadn’t exactly censored his description of the labs – his depiction of them was horrific. But even then, Arthur knew he had been holding back. Deep below the foundations of Camelot Enterprise, Arthur was going to have to enter the dark core. He was going to have to face his demons and accept liability. He didn’t want to. Part of him was terrified. The druids here didn’t know him, understand what he’d been through. What if they were angry, and instead of heading back to Albion unleashed chaos upon Camelot? Panic clouded his system and Morgana realised she’d probably said the completely wrong thing.
“It’ll be fine Arthur.” She whispered, reaching over to clasp one of his hands.
Exhaling deeply, he leant his head against the back of the seat. A few seconds passed like this. Then abruptly, Arthur opened the door and stepped outside. The five of them strode towards the grandeur entrance of the Headquarters. As they reached the main door, Arthur swiped his card. The moment they entered the large, majestic hall, they all parted their separate ways, discretely blending into the business environment.
Arthur didn’t spare a glance for the towering statue of his father in the centre of the room, unfazed as he walked through the shadow it had cast over him all these years.
♦☼♦
“Gentlemen,” Arthur greeted promptly as he entered the room, a façade of confidence drenching his aura.
The façade slipped slightly when he gazed over to the board. Instantly the eleven very important people sat around the table began exchanging brief pleasantries with the young blonde man as he set-up the screen at the front. Some seemed genuine, others not so. Aredian hadn’t said a word, staring curiously at Arthur as if were going to spontaneously turn into a frog or something of similar absurdity. Opening the presentation, Arthur clasped his hands together and delved into his introduction. If his hands were clammy and shaking when they met, well he did his best to ignore it.
“I trust you all received my email,” glancing around he saw many members nod. “Therefore, it should come as no surprise as to why I have returned-” Arthur was not surprised to hear someone interject his words.
“-How is your father?” Aredian asked, false sympathy overflowing in his tone.
“He is in good hands.” Arthur firmly responded, not cowering away from eye contact with the older man. He didn’t fear Aredian. The man stroked his chin, gazing at Arthur with intensified concern (all an act of course).
“What exactly is his diagnosis?”
Lifting his head assertively, Arthur paced around the table towards him and pressed a hand into his shoulder.
“A severe fever induced by the climatic shift of Albion, not uncommon. I’m honestly not the person to ask though when it comes to all this druid-lark, perhaps take the matter up with Leon.” a few members chuckled; Arthur coughed, gesturing it was time to move on. He suppressed the twitching of his lips when he noticed Aredian’s surprised expression. Moving back to the centre of the table, Arthur continued the delivery of his speech.
“Let us have a look at Magical Extraction. It is not lie that the Magical Extraction programme has had vast benefits for Camelot Enterprise.” He wasn’t sure how convincing his last sentence sounded, it had been more than difficult to say that of all things – it was such a blatant lie questioning human ethics and morals. A few members of the board – evidently old fashioned in their ways – seemed displeased with his statement. “Magic is a renewable source of energy.” He added, waving his hand in the air vaguely. “It’s clean, in fact it’s 80% more efficient than any non-renewable or renewable source the human race has ever encountered.” Pause. “But. One thing I have come to learnt is that magic is dangerous. It can infect your mind, poison your soul. Above all of this, Camelot Enterprise never considered whether it was actually right to take it from the Druids.”
♦☼♦
Morgana entered the control room, smiling at the two men sitting on their seats. Adjusting her earpiece, she shut the door behind her smoothly and turned to the two men.
“Why don’t you take a break guys?” she asked sweetly, perching down on the free seat, knowing how scarce breaks usually were around here. Their eyes lit up in disbelief and hope. “I’ll handle this for a while.”
The moment the guards left the room, her eyes flashed gold and the door locked itself swiftly. Her attention turned back to the large desk in front of her, full of small TV monitors and a plethora of buttons. Her eyes scanned the dashboard for the laboratory panel. No sign of it yet. Glancing up to the TV screens, she spotted Gwaine, Lancelot and Leon in the top corner.
“Leon, I can see you guys on screen, cough if you can hear my voice.” she said down the earpiece whilst searching for the button. In response Leon cupped his mouth and coughed. Morgana continued speaking. “Okay, I’m just trying to locate the security panel for the Laboratories.”
Subtly, Gwaine pressed his finger on the small microphone attached to his velvet shirt.
“All systems are labelled in by their location, not by name.” he supplied helpfully, voice trailing off quickly as people began to approach the three of them. Leon pulled out a sheet of paper promptly, turning to Lancelot with false sincerity.
“I think it’s here we need to go…” he mused as the office workers walked past, clearly amused that they were lost in the building. The moment the workers were out of sight, he resumed to normal.
Location...Morgana found the appropriate panel and studied the numerous buttons. She thought back to Arthur’s clear instructions on disabling the alarms. Slowly, her fingers hovered over three switches on the side of the panel. She clicked the first one triggering something on one of the screens. Sliding towards the keypad she began typing words, Uther really should have thought about whether it was good idea trusting her with the passwords and admin. But back then she’d been no true threat. Each button slowly lost its glow on the panel in front of her.
“I’ve disabled the alarms and issued Code 25. The Lab workers should be filing out any minute now,” she explained down the earpiece, watching in satisfaction as several people in long, white coats trailed past the screen to her right. Her eyes flickered towards the left where Leon, Lance and Gwaine were. She noticed Gwaine was about to leap into action. “Wait until I give you the all clear.” She added, twisting back to look at the right-hand side. A final worker scurried out of the labs, following the trail of his colleagues.
“Clear.”
With that the three men left her screen, no doubt entering the lab. Morgana stood up briskly, ensuring to secure the control panel with the Delta Key Password, one hardly any members of Camelot Enterprise knew at all. Grinning she unlocked the door, rather riskily with magic, and walked down the bland, white corridor towards the Logistics department. To her memory it would have been quicker to turn left. However, Arthur been adamant in her turning right as this would take her past the conference room. Going past the meeting would act as a marker point for Arthur, letting him know exactly where they were with the plan and how much time he had left.
♦☼♦
“But they are Druids.” Aggravaine chided from the corner. Arthur suppressed a snarl; I’m a druid. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Morgana walk past the meeting room. He failed to acknowledge her, not wanting to give anything away or to take his attention from the meeting.
“Druids or not, they are human beings. It has taken us too long to see that, and we have treated these people poorly and with little respect.” Raking a hand through his hand he turned to the next slide of his presentation, noticing a few men smile in agreement. “For many centuries, magic was used to help civilisation
s flourish. The Druids were happy to live among us and trade their skills for our technology. We have broken that trusted circle of peace, and realistically it can never be restored.” Never was an understatement – Uther had destroyed the Crystal Cave, killed thousands of innocent people.
“The only way forward now is to extract the oil from Albion,” he pressed the next slide. A few people gasped at the chart. “Just 17% of this untouched reserve would meet supply and demand for hundreds of years to come.” Not that they would ever get their hands on it, Arthur thought darkly. These resources belonged to the druids, to do with as they wished. “My father has been negotiating with the Druids-“
“-I thought you said Uther was-” Cenred began pedantically. Sharply, Arthur spoke over his words. It was about time the third annoying nuisance would try and sabotage his plan.
“-Before he had fallen ill. We have been in Albion for many months now, trying to come up with a fair agreement to mine for oil in their land-”
“-Forgive me for sounding crude Arthur,” Aggravaine said, sounding anything but apologetic. “But the Druids are hardly a sophisticated race, they probably don’t understand our intentions. If we were just to take the oil, surely it wouldn’t make that much of a difference, it’s been done before-”
A few members began to argue against this point rather fiercely, some pointed at Aggravaine in an accusatory manner. Arthur had to restrain himself from joining in on their outburst.
“-Yes and it has caused war time and time again!” one yelled furiously, clearly making reference to the wars in the twenty-first century.
“Do not disgrace the name of Camelot Enterprise in such a way!” another added.
Holding a hand in the air with authority, Arthur commanded silence from the group.
“Gentlemen,” He said sternly in the newfound, yet tense, silence. “I have not travelled all this way to witness petty arguments among great men. I have come here to discuss the agreement made with the druids, and to pass the Act here today.” He clicked onto the next slide, and then fiddled with the folder on the desk to reveal the ‘legal’ document.
“In order to mine in Albion, we must terminate the Magical Extraction Programme-”
“-But as you said earlier it is 80% more efficient, if we could harness this resource properly-“
“-It is not a resource.” Arthur snapped, unaware he had raised his voice. “it is inhumane and must be abolished if this business is ever going to move forwards. My father and I have drawn up this new Act to not only allow sustainable mining, but to protect the Druids and ensure that they will be able to live in peace once again.” Aredian twisted his lips at the prospect, clearly discontented with the idea.
“Since when has appeasement gotten people anywhere?” he sneered.
One of the oldest members, sitting opposite Aredian (the name escaped Arthur’s memory), laughed at the comment.
“It is far better than unjust oppression and discrimination.” That shut Aredian up, to Arthur’s relief.
“Only four signatures are required to pass this Act.” Arthur explained, turning to the next slide. “The main terms of the Druid Appeasement Act are the abolishment of Camelot Laboratories and termination of the Magical Extraction Programme, as of immediate effect.” Pause.
“Who will sign?”
Chapter 45
The lab was hauntingly silent. The hypnotic and bland corridors were like a maze, endless and full of misleading dead-ends. None of them had ever been down here before. It was totally new, and terrifying. Gwaine admired Merlin’s courage for sneaking down and attempting to rescue Gaius all those years ago. He noticed to his dismay that each door had a number, not names, numbers. The Druids had been completely neglected. Lance and Leon seemed to feel uneasy here also. Swallowing-hard, Leon darted towards the stack of folders files on the side of the wall. He didn’t make it past page one of the first one, clasping a hand to his mouth in complete disgust.
“I don’t think we’re going to like what we find down here.” He admitted bitterly, shoving the folder back into the compartment. “Lance, we’ll start down this end. Gwaine,” turning to the rugged man, he smiled softly. “Start freeing the druids the other side, we’ll meet back here to transport them home. Be careful.”
The group divided their separate ways. Gwaine made his way to the far end of this wing. The sound of screaming and moaning – clearly induced by pain – caught his attention. Then he realised that every single room was littered with the same noise. Bravely, he walked up to the furthest door. Grabbing the doorknob he swung it open.
Nothing could have prepared him for the sight ahead of him.
The room was small, with bright intense lighting. A cupboard was in the right-hand corner, clearly full of sinister tools. In the middle of the room, a woman was strapped to the table. She was no more than thirty. Her brown eyes were wide and vacant, hair shaven from her head. Her overall appearance suggested fear and immense trauma. Morgana had disabled the metallic binds that held the druids down. However the woman didn’t seem to notice, or care. She lay there motionless, staring up at the ceiling as if she hoped it would topple and crush her before Camelot did. It was a heart-breaking sight.
Gradually, Gwaine made his way towards her side. She made no move to greet him, eyes locked onto the same spot. He reached out to aid her, and that sprung her into sudden, horrific action. Tears streamed from her eyes and she began to shudder. Muttering left her lips that became full sentences in the druid tongue.
“Helofor, helofor.” She wailed in despair, collapsing into his arms. “Helofor.” Gwaine didn’t know much of the Druid language, but this particular word he had heard far too often recently. Gone, gone, gone; it’s all gone. All gone. Helping her to her feet, he gently stroked her swollen skin.
“Shh,” he cooed gently over her rambling, trying to remained composed. The experience was overwhelming. “What’s your name?”
“…Blóstma.” She hesitantly responded between her quiet mumbles.
“Blóstma,” Gwaine whispered kindly. “You’re safe now. We’re going back to Albion.”
Recongising the word, she lifted her face towards him questioningly. She stopped weeping, eyes wide and far too impassive for a human being.
“You….you’re not taking me to the extractor?” she hissed, voice laced in fear and confusion. Gwaine didn’t want to know what the fuck the ‘extractor’ was; even the sound of it was evil. If her reaction to the word was anything to go by, it wasn’t good. It seemed Camelot had been keeping a lot of dirty secrets. Steering her towards the door, she found her footing surprisingly well, Gwaine sighed.
“Of course not, we’re taking you home.”
♦☼♦
“I will sign it,” One of the older members volunteered, standing from his seat, causing a smile to break over Arthur’s face. “This Act will earn Camelot great respect, and give Druids their freedom-”
“-The Druids don’t deserve freedom.” Aredian spat. “For centuries they have been ungrateful of the hospitality the human race has offered, manipulating the economy and enchanting people for their own benefit-”
“-If you are referring to the Great Depression of 2067,” Arthur said in a calm collected voice, stunning a few members with his knowledge. “Might I remind you that the Druid responsible was heavily discriminated against. His home had been taken from him; he’d lost his job simply because of his race. And also,” he recited assertively; he’d read all about this case when he was younger. “The Druid actually was intending to help. Unfortunately, he predicted the wrong outcome, just like a normal human being would. Druids never act out of spite, they are kind and compassionate people.” Pause. “Perhaps you should keep your opinions to yourself, and think about the bigger picture here,” Turning away from Aredian; Arthur addressed the whole board confidently. “The future of Camelot depends on this expedition for oil. Failure of the Albion Project would have significant consequences to the status of this business. If you care ab
out Camelot Enterprise, I urge you to sign this Act.”
Silence. Swallowing-hard, Arthur tried to maintain composure. He’d delivered his presentation. He could only hope at least two board members would come forward and sign. For a moment nobody made any movement, watching Arthur Pendragon in front of them. Pulling his chunky glasses off his face, Arthur frowned.
“That is all I have to say,” people made a move to pack away their documents and notes. “May I just end on one final note.” The rustling stopped abruptly. “I cannot make you sign this Act. I can merely offer reasons why this is a valid agreement to sign. Leave now if you wish, but know that you will leave with a guilty conscience, and the blood of many innocent lives will be on your hands.” Wiping his glasses over his white shirt, Arthur quickly pushed them back up onto his nose. “My father and I have spent many months negotiating with the Druids for the sake of this business. Do not let his efforts for a peaceful extraction be for nothing.”
Of course this was a lie, his father had not strived for peaceful extraction at all. Yet the only way forward for the business was through an ethic of peace and co-operation. Arthur may well have left Camelot, but he wasn’t going to completely dissolve the great company either. He hoped leaving this way would offer hope for the future. Not only for the business, but also for Camelot. Aggravaine hastily exited the room, followed by Cenred. That didn’t surprise him. But Arthur was honestly surprised to see Aredian standing beside him, pen in hand.
“I have been at Camelot my whole life,” The man admitted. “I do not want to see it fall due to such practices.” Studying Aredian intriguingly, Arthur met his eyes. “Where do I sign?” he asked petulantly, small reading glasses framing his eyes.
