by C. C. Monö
They entered a dimly lit room, which turned out to be one of the top balconies of the theatre. From there, they had a good view of the large stage below. Axel scanned the great open space. He had been here before, many years ago. His grandmother had taken him to see a performance he no longer remembered the name of.
“This is the main stage,” Nicole explained, as they reached the balcony railing. “It’s not very big, I’m afraid. A meagre seven hundred and seventy people can fit here.”
Axel eyed the empty seats below.
“You find that small?”
“So will you in a few years’ time. Nevertheless, it’s a perfect size for our purpose.”
Axel clutched the railing.
“Which is?” he asked with dread.
“Two and a half years from now, on June fifteenth, you’ll step up on that stage to deliver your graduation speech. The audience will consist of the Swedish royal family, top Scandinavian politicians, and the most influential businessmen and women in this region. Everyone else will have to view the speech on TV.”
Axel stood dumbfounded, staring at the stage as her words sunk in. The graduation speech; he hadn’t even thought about that. Seven hundred of the most important people from the region would be there, all of them keen to hear him speak.
I can’t do it, he thought, squeezing the railing till his knuckles whitened. He dropped into the chair behind him. My father will kill me, but I’ll have to tell her the truth. I have to tell her now, before we reach the Academy. After that, it’ll be too late.
Leaning against the railing, Nicole watched him with interest.
“You shouldn’t worry, sir,” she said in a kind attempt to calm him. “You are entering the Academy. By the time you walk out on that stage, giving speeches will be as natural to you as drinking a glass of water.” She left the railing and took a seat next to him. “I know this because the Academy never fails. We will turn you into one of the most important individuals on the planet. People won’t only know you, they’ll glorify and respect you. They’ll turn to you for guidance and strength. Yes, people will expect many great things of you, Mr Hallman. And you will deliver.”
If Nicole intended to comfort Axel, she had failed miserably.
“That’s great,” he wheezed and clasped his hands together in front of him. “I know you’re good at what you do.”
“Indeed we are,” Nicole replied and turned as the door behind them opened. A man stepped in from the darkness, carrying a coat over his left arm as he moved towards them with confidence in his strides. Nicole stood up and straightened her suit.
“As mentioned, Mr Hallman, people will expect great things from you in the future. I’d like you to meet one of those individuals.”
She strode over to the approaching man. Axel’s jaw dropped.
“Good morning, Mr Prime Minister,” said Nicole. She gave the man a formal embrace. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Likewise, Ms Swan. I take it this is our nation’s hero-to-be, Mr Axel Hallman.” Axel stood dumbstruck as the tall, round-faced prime minister offered his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Axel.”
Nicole excused herself, claiming she needed to make a few calls, leaving Axel alone with a man he’d seen hundreds of times on television but had never met in person. Now what? Axel watched the door close behind Nicole. What does one say to a prime minister? It had to be something unusual, something befitting a person who was about to enter the world’s most prominent academy.
The seconds ticked away and Axel began to sweat. He could feel the awkwardness grow.
“So,” he began, wiping his sweaty palms against his trousers in a quick and discreet motion. It was time to say something. Anything. “I see you don’t have any bodyguards with you,” he blurted.
For a second, the prime minister appeared confused. He stared at Axel before letting out a wholesome and hearty laughter.
Axel closed his eyes. Bodyguards? Really? Was that the best he could do?
“I meant…your safety,” he stammered, knowing he was coming across as a complete idiot.
“It’s very kind of you to prioritise my safety,” the prime minister said, patting Axel on the shoulder, “but don’t worry, I’m well protected.” With an amused expression on his face, he nodded towards the seats in the front row of the balcony. “Shall we?”
CHAPTER 7
The prime minister sniffled and pulled out a handkerchief. “I blame the Minister for Finance,” he said before blowing his nose. “She had a terrible cold last week when she came to my office.”
Axel tried to smile, but he was so nervous it probably came out as a sneer. After his pathetic attempt to say something clever, he had decided to remain quiet until spoken to.
The prime minister tucked his handkerchief into his pocket.
“Anyway, let me start by congratulating you. You are the first candidate from Scandinavia that the Eagle King’s Academy has ever admitted. What an achievement.”
“Thank you,” Axel managed.
“No, it is I who should thank you. Sweden is a small country. We do well in global terms, yet we’re not recognised as being a country of importance. It seems size still matters.” The prime minister chuckled at his little joke. “It’s a shame, though. I believe we have a lot to offer this world,” he continued. “But to do so, we need to get more of our citizens into key international positions. Now, here you are, just about to embark on a journey that will take you to the very top of global power and hierarchy. That means you’ll also represent Sweden, and we’re very proud of that.”
Axel felt his cheeks begin to redden. “It’s kind of you to say that,” he mumbled.
“No, young man, I’m being honest. And I want you to know that if there’s anything I can do to help you along the way, just let me know.” The prime minister handed Axel a card with nothing more than a telephone number on it. “You can reach me on that number.” He sniffled. “Who knows when you might need a friend outside the Academy?”
Axel accepted the card as if it was the most delicate thing in the world. Had the prime minister just offered him his friendship? The thought was mind-numbing.
He studied the card and its shiny, thick paper. Hmm, it was almost as thick as a credit card. Was that normal for a business card?
“It’s very special,” the prime minister whispered and leaned in, his eyes darting between Axel and the stage below. “It gives you access to me any time, any day, no questions asked.”
Axel looked up and met the eyes of the man who ruled his country.
“I’m honoured,” he admitted, “but…you don’t know me.”
“The Academy chose you, Axel,” the prime minister replied, his voice dark and solemn. “That means you’re a person worth befriending. However, I must ask you to never let anyone else get their hands on this card. Do you understand?”
“Okay.”
“I mean no one, not even Ms Swan or any of the professors at the Academy.”
“But…” Axel thought better of it and fell silent, wondering why the prime minister would want him to hide the card from E.K.A. professors.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the prime minister said and gave Axel a little smile, “but I’m not giving this to you because you’ll be an E.K.A. leader. I’m giving it to you because you’re going to be a Swedish E.K.A leader. The Academy will make you powerful, but your nationality will make you loyal to our country. You and I share the same interests because we both want what’s best for our nation, don’t we?”
“Uh…of course.”
“And that’s why that card is yours and yours alone. The two of us will do great things together once you’ve graduated, but until then you have to keep that card hidden. No one must know you have it, or they can abuse it.”
Axel flipped the card in his hand. He wasn’t sure he understood what the prime minister was getting at, but he nodded nonetheless.
“All right, I’ll keep it hidden, I promise.”
&
nbsp; The prime minister let out a quiet sigh. “Good.” He sat silently, admiring the elegant stage below. After a moment he began fumbling with one of his coat pockets and pulled out a handkerchief. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” he inquired while dabbing his nose.
“No, of course not.”
“Was the application process as hard as people say it is?”
Axel swallowed. To him, the entire process had been pure agony. Not because he feared he would fail the application, but because he feared he wouldn’t. Even so, applying to the E.K.A. had been no walk in the park.
The application process was made up of seven phases. During the pre-application phase the applicant had to fill out a number of forms, answering hundreds of questions regarding his/her background and personality. Axel had found the questions not only time-consuming but, to his surprise, difficult to answer. Even if the topic was straightforward, the instructions and questions were so vague and confusing that it was easy to make a mistake.
Axel had read somewhere that forty-five per cent of all applicants failed the pre-application phase. An automated email reply informed those who passed that they could now proceed to the next step.
Phase two consisted of a number of advanced stress tests, as well as IQ and EQ tests. The few who passed continued to phase three. Here they had to write several complex essays, and by the time phase four began, only five per cent of the initial applicants remained.
“Yes, it’s tough,” Axel admitted. “Very tough.”
“But you passed, which is sensational.” The prime minister scraped the edge of the armrest with his finger. “I have a son who’s a few years younger than you. He’s already preparing for his own application, three years from now.” The prime minister stopped fidgeting and gave Axel an inquisitive stare. “He told me something I didn’t know. Apparently the first three phases of the application are well defined on the E.K.A. website. In fact, it’s even possible to buy old questionnaires. I believe my son bought three of them, and Lord knows they’re not cheap, but according to my son, the last four steps remain undisclosed. The Academy refuses to reveal any information about them whatsoever.”
Axel nodded. “That’s true.” He knew this because his strategy had been to fail phase four, which, it turned out, hadn’t worked very well. The prime minister shook his head and laughed.
“That’s amazing. How do they keep it all a secret, one wonders? Of course, it’s a little unreasonable, if you ask me,” he continued, his face turning grim. “Keeping it a secret, I mean. My son is a wreck at home because he can’t prepare for the final phases. It’s a shame. He’s smart, determined, and a hard-working young man.” The prime minister lowered his voice and leaned in. Axel caught a faint whiff of cologne and coffee. “He’s desperate to get in, and, as his father, I want to help him.”
It took a few seconds before Axel realised what the prime minister was asking for.
“Information,” Axel mumbled before he could stop himself.
“Just a little advice would be helpful,” the prime minister confirmed, scratching a spot under his double chin.
Axel looked away. This was absurd! How could he say no to the Swedish prime minister? The man ruled his country!
“I’m not allowed to reveal anything,” Axel said, sounding just as pitiable and weak as he felt.
“Oh, but it would just be a little information between friends. No one would know about it.”
“What about your son?”
The older man gave a little shrug. “Well, I’d have to share the information with him, of course, but he’ll never tell anyone. He won’t even know who gave me the information.”
Axel intertwined his fingers in a forceful grip and began rubbing his palms against each other. The prime minister’s words echoed in his mind. “Just a little information between friends…” Axel sighed. “Believe me, I wish I could help you and your son, but I’ve signed confidentiality contracts that I can’t break.”
If I do, I’m sure all hell will break loose.
“Ah. Yes, of course. I shouldn’t have asked.” The prime minister stood up. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Axel. I really do hope this is the beginning of a long, fruitful friendship.”
Axel exhaled, feeling as if an entire mountain had been lifted off his shoulders.
“I hope so too.” He smiled.
“Good…because friendship is important. Certainly among people with power, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Uh…yes.”
“Indeed. It doesn’t take much for a mistreated friend to become an enemy, and we don’t want powerful enemies, do we? It makes life very problematic, if you know what I mean.”
CHAPTER 8
TWELVE YEARS EARLIER
Sarah stepped off the old bus onto the muddy road. The wonderful smell of wet soil was almost overwhelming. She straightened out her uniform and smiled. It felt good to be back. Behind her, the bus coughed and moaned with the same passion as a grumbling old man. A cloud of black smoke trolled behind it as it began to roll down the street, picking up speed as it went.
Sarah viewed the open savannah. It was so green. God had begun the new year by blessing Tanzania with rain. In fact, the entire East-African region was experiencing heavy showers. Although the effects were visible in a large city such as Dar es Salaam, it was more noticeable out here, where roads were unpaved, and no bulky buildings destroyed the view.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Sarah spun around. Her friends considered her a courageous woman but the unfamiliar voice had startled her. Next to the village road, leaning against the yellow stem of a large acacia tree, stood an old, thin man. He was dressed in an expensive, grey suit that seemed inappropriate on the African savannah, and wore a small hat on his white-haired scalp.
“How was your trip,” he asked, nodding in the direction of the bus.
He was a Brit; she could hear it in his voice. She gripped her handbag a little tighter. The man wasn’t dressed like a thief, but then again she knew thieves came in all shapes and sizes.
“It was a pleasant ride, sir,” she replied with caution.
“I’m glad.” He gestured towards the village road. “I assume you’re on your way to your orphanage? Would you mind if I join you? I believe I have some information that will interest you.”
Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. He knew about her orphanage. Could he be here to offer her a little funding? He exuded both wealth and wisdom; similar to that of an old, rich grandfather wishing you nothing but the best. She nodded. The orphanage was in desperate need of finance.
“Thank you,” the man said with a bow, as if she’d done him a great service.
Together they started down the muddy road. Sarah glanced at the man’s polished shoes. There was no mud on them. How was that possible? Then her eyes moved up and she caught a glimpse of his gold watch and gold cufflinks. Yes, this was a wealthy man, but what was he doing here, alone in the most rural parts of Tanzania?
“My name is David Garner,” the man began, “and I must say, it’s an honour to meet you at last, Ms Wangai. You see, I know a lot about you. I know you’re twenty-three years old. You grew up in an orphanage outside Dar es Salaam. Although you never knew your parents, you considered yourself lucky. It was a good place to grow up and you were given an education.”
Sarah froze. Fear slithered through her body and she found herself struggling to breathe.
“How do you know these things about me?”
“I suppose that’s information anyone could uncover.” The man smiled. “But I know more than that. I know that when you were nine, you began to dream of one day building your own orphanage. I must say, that’s quite a remarkable dream for a nine-year-old. At the age of fifteen, you heard of an orphanage in financial difficulty.” Mr Garner nodded in the direction of the village. “You came here and found a small bungalow with twenty children and an old lady with no money. Through sheer determination, you managed to keep the orphanage afloat until
you turned eighteen. After that, you got a job as a maid for a wealthy family in Dar es Salaam. Since then, you’ve spent all your money on your little orphanage. You come here every Saturday afternoon after work and help out until Sunday afternoon when you have to return to the city.”
The wrinkled old man locked his hands behind his back. Sarah gawked at him, unable to speak. Who was this peculiar man, with his peculiar clothes and peculiar behaviour? How did he know so much about her, and what did he want?
“You’ve got a big heart, Ms Wangai, and a very determined mind. When you want something, you get it. It may take you years, but you’ll get it in the end.”
Hearing someone speak so highly of her made Sarah uncomfortable.
“I believe you exaggerate, Mr Garner.”
The man seemed amused.
“I doubt it, Ms Wangai. You’re willing to take risks in order to get what you want. I know, for example, that when the family you work for leave their house in the morning, you spend about two hours on their computer. First you read the news for an hour, then you spend the second hour searching for funding and assistance to help sustain your orphanage.”
Sarah thought her heart had stopped beating. How did he know this? She’d been so cautious!
“Oh, don’t worry, Ms Wangai. Your employer remains clueless as to your activities, and I’m not here to scold you. Desperate times call for desperate measures. What you’ve done takes courage, and that’s important when becoming a leader.”
Sarah blinked and then gasped as the pieces fell into place. “What do you mean?” she asked, clasping her worn little bag with force.
Behind Mr Garner, a black jeep came into sight, bouncing down the pothole-infested road.
“Ah, now that’s a good question,” he said with a grin. “Let me see; about six months ago, you used your employer’s computer and applied to the Eagle King’s Academy. You impress us, Ms Wangai, and so I am happy to inform you, that you have been accepted as one of the twelve.”