The following Monday Afternoon (BDL)
(Before the Death of his father’s Lawyer)
A cloudy, somewhat misty day was the backdrop to Gustav’s otherwise smooth and unremarkable school day. He enjoyed the pleasantries, the interesting and well-taught lessons, but he was also slightly irritated by the occasional friendly, yet somehow invasive “Are you OK?” question from acquaintances. He would always confirm with a friendly smile and a nod that he was fine, and felt duty-bound to ask in reply how they were doing, to which, in typical British tradition, they always replied that they were also fine.
Since his escape from the Consulate everything, the school, his acquaintances, lessons; somehow felt smaller, more distant than before, less significant now his demeanour was open to the scale and grandness of his latest discoveries.
He did make an extra effort to be kind, courteous and friendly towards the Amazons during the HCP lesson. Hesitantly, he accepted their invitation to be involved with their clique during the Team Co-ordination session, without appearing to be too clingy or overly attached (or guilty?). As they all walked back from the Big House together, he made a valiant attempt to be all chuckles and small-talk, but he knew his heart wasn’t in it. He hadn’t worked up the courage to ask them about their time in the facility. He knew he was putting off the discussion as long as he could, but then he knew it wasn’t going to be an easy conversation for any of them. Chris on the other hand seemed to enjoy the time spent with the girls, but his motivations had been different to his own. In fairness, he did become distracted and immediately began glancing covertly at Tara as soon as he saw her.
Respectfully, he informed Chris that he wouldn’t be able to attend their usual joyful Monday after-school extracurricular’s together, but he refused to explain why. He reached over and gripped Chris’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, I won’t be long. It’s just something I have to take care of, OK? I’ll catch you up afterwards. It’s fine.” he nodded.
When the final bell rang for the day and all the day-trippers had begun to leave the grounds, he dropped off his books in his room and started to take the scenic way around school (wishing he could just break the rules and float over a building or two). He made sure he wasn’t followed as he approached the now very familiar Headmaster’s office.
Stress, anticipation, anxiety all made Gustav’s heart rate soar and brought vibrancy to his cheeks. He breathed deeply to try to calm himself as he debated and rehearsed internally what he was planning to say in the meeting. He’d been dwelling upon it for the last two nights and had hardly slept, lest the dreams sway his focus and resolve, and he felt like he was standing at the top of the high-dive board.
He’d written and shredded many pages of notes and diagrams, trying to organise and structure his presentation, just as he would a marked test.
He reached the door, which to his surprise was already slightly ajar, and before he had the time to fully compose himself, was beckoned inside. The Old Man Mr. Duncan Summers and Naomi Van Helsing were already inside, apparently finishing a friendly informal conversation. Summers motioned his towards a seat with a, “Mr Jaeger.” Naomi was a little less formal, “Good afternoon, Gustav, how are you?”
A delicate aroma of freshly brewed strong coffee wafted in the air and the room warmly lit with pleasantly glowing lights. The adults held their cups idly and a third filled cup sat in the centre of the desk for Gustav, a rare treat and a kind gesture from the Dean as a sign that he wasn’t in any trouble.
Gustav responded as expected by British protocol, “I’m fine, how are you?” he managed, as he took a seat and accepted the coffee with thanks, taking a sip with great relish.
He used the action of drinking to gather his thoughts and composure. He didn’t stammer or stutter at-least, a good start, he thought, relaxing slightly. “All things considered,” he gestured around the room, talking about the school, “No emergencies today. I’m doing OK. I think, I hope.” he chuckled.
Summers nodded, “You called for this meeting, Mr Jaeger. If this is about your visit to the Carpathian Embassy, I’ve been told only what I absolutely need-to-know. As far as Claremont is concerned, it was, shall we say, a private misadventure and we’re very glad you’re safe and well. If an alarm had been raised, you would have received every available Claremont resource to ensure your safety as a respected pupil of ours. You should be praised for your cool reactions under pressure. Naomi has suggested you should be proud and consider the experience an in-field HCP exercise.”
Cool reactions? Hah! He’d realised since that night that somehow he was being compelled by the Baroness to obey, and somehow his Mother and Naomi’s arrival had broken the compulsion long enough for them to get him away.
Summers pulled out a newspaper and slid it across the desk until it was in front of Gustav, “The incident didn’t even make the news. The Consulate has since claimed that the whole thing had been an on-site anti-terrorist training exercise. Everyone is now accounted for, and they’re all singing the same song.” There was a slight pause. “Was that what you were concerned about, Gustav?”
Naomi smiled at him reassuringly.
Gus’ smiled and nodded, appreciative of the good news, as that was some source of relief. It was almost humorous how the Baroness could wipe her hands and spin her way out of almost any situation. “Yes, that is good to know. Thank you, Sir.” he took another sip of his coffee. “But not why I called our meeting today. Thank you for coming Naomi, I appreciate it, especially at such short notice, I know your work keeps you very busy.”
He stood and took a deep breath, leaving his beverage on the desk. He pulled a small device out of his pocket, a small plastic handhold classroom pointer with two buttons. Invented by Chris, it had a small in-built projector that displayed a smart-presentation on one of the nearby walls. It only took a moment to correct the focus.
“What is a Hero?” Gustav began. “The dictionary definition’s main description is as follows: A person who is admired for their courage, outstanding achievement or noble qualities.”
“Yes, yes, I literally run the curriculum on ethics, Gustav. Where are you going with this?” Summers interrupted in a jovial, friendly manner, almost chuckling.
Gustav sighed. Perhaps he had the right intention, but perhaps not the right intended effect. He stopped the fruitless presentation.
“I want to request something of the upmost importance and severity to me. I want to emphasize the seriousness of what I speak of next. One year before the end of my legal schooling requirement, I want to accept the offered transfer to Carpathia’s Seminarium.”
Naomi was immediately on her feet in protest, but before she or the headmaster could raise their objections to his ill-considered and infuriating decision, Gustav lifted his hand and continued. “Please, allow me to finish. Carpathia, my birthplace and true home, is in a bad way, everyone knows this. As a ‘hero’, I feel it is my obligation to improve the toxic situation there. I want to create beneficial and long-lasting change for the nation, which is impossible with such a villain at the helm. This is the best way, I think, as I already have an ‘in’. Being a hero means action while understanding the risks.”
“Being a hero means being alive and not acting stupidly!” Naomi called out. “This will not end well, Gustav, you do not truly know your homeland, what the baroness is, what they do to people at the Seminarium Sinister” (she heavily emphasised the ‘Sinister’) “or what you’ve just suggested. You can’t just change a country because you want it to, you don’t have that kind of power OR the mandate from its inhabitants. Nobody does.” she began to pace the room. “Think of what your father would say. He wouldn’t want this for you. He sacrificed everything to make sure you’re free now!”
“I want it, need it for me. I didn’t expect you to understand.” Gustav balled a fist in frustration of the instant dismissal. “All I need from you is the training. I can do the rest–“
The headmaster gestured suddenly, trying to calm the room and distil the tension, and looked at Gustav in earnest with a serious expression. “I’ll listen to what you have to say, Gustav.” then resuming his professional poker face. Naomi on the other hand remained exacerbated.
Caught, Gustav could only glower, “I DO want to try and fit all of what the curriculum has to offer in my remaining time here, condensing in everything I can. I’m prepared to work hard for what I want to achieve. I’ll need extra lessons in Carpathian History, Geography, Politics and Ethics, and last but certainly not least – I’ll also need training in mind and memory tampering resistance.”
He paused. “I want to play the part of poor, lost Gustav, coming home to the lure of power, of becoming a Janissary. But, in reality, I will be an agent for change. I’ll act and dance for them while I advance in power and influence – be it royalty, military or political. I want to, need to overthrow the Baroness, and with time, guile and cunning, I know I can do it. Be it by succession, coup’, revolt or arrest. If I fail, that’s on me – at least there was an attempt. If I succeed? I would bring pride to Claremont and goodness into the world.”
He’d shown his cards, or the very basic premise in any case. He was almost shaking with the intensity of his request, as well-intentioned and short-sighted as they may be.
Summers spoke quietly but forcibly, “You have already agreed to repeat your current year and I would expect you to at least complete your A-levels before leaving. I wouldn’t insist on playing the age card, Mr Jaeger, as your current age has now been verified by the date on your birth certificate.”
Seeing the look of shock on Gustav’s face, he continued.
“You didn’t check the date, did you? Dr Lockheart did when you insisted on showing her the documents from your lawyer. You were born in 2005, which officially only makes you 13 years old. You must be at least 16 in this country before you can be declared an adult, unless you plan to emancipate yourself from my guardianship.”
Guardianship sir?” Summers took a sip of his coffee, “As your father is dead and your mother is… Well, I am currently in loco parentis and if necessary, I will apply to the courts to be declared your guardian until you are 18 but… If you agree to my terms, I will allow you the freedom of choice you are demanding. Finish school, Mr Jaeger, that is all I ask.” Naomi looked ready to tear the room apart in anger at his words, but he smiled that perfect smile of his and muttered, “Please trust me, we’ll talk later, okay?”
Summers looked at him then spoke quietly and calmly, “Gustav, I understand that you want to still be of school age to be sent to the Seminarium but I assure you that all they are interested in is whether you have abilities they can use. There is no need for you to be a schoolchild to attend. As for bringing pride to Claremont, what you would call a freedom fighter is a terrorist to someone else.
I’m sure you’ll appreciate why I will not be able to offer you an immediate response as to whether we can support you in your endeavour, but I promise you I will heavily consider what you have just suggested. I will have to consult.” and before Gustav could smile, he raised a finger.
“Heavily consider may also include declining your requests and also making ways to prevent any kind of action. What you propose would be attempting a coup, one not backed by the populace.
‘Succession’ could also be interpreted as threatening language or as an unelected dictatorship, as careful and precise as you were, Mr Jaeger. For now, you’re free to go, but you’ll be under close observation for the time being until an official verdict on your request is reached, for your own safety if nothing else.”
“What?!” Gustav reacted.
“We here at Claremont take anything like this with the upmost seriousness, considering the special capabilities of some students, Gustav. Just continue with your studies and speak no more of this to anyone until I send for you.”
Maybe he should have kept his bold plan and ideas to himself, until after Claremont. Maybe he had just now shot himself in the foot, and clipped the wings of progress. He wouldn’t have minded if they had grounded him; the weekend trips to Wessex and St. Mary Mede were a whimsical teenage distraction at best but to be under constant observation, even more so than usual? That was just mistrusting and hurtful.
Perhaps he had brought this on himself? He gritted his teeth, how could he be so foolish?
Naomi merely shook her head, arms folded, disgusted almost. After he left, as he was walking away, he could hear the muted, baffled verbal exchanges between Naomi and the Headmaster through the door, but he did not hear what they said exactly. Nothing good, he presumed. His eyes moistened as he walked.
Growing up Meta, UK-Style! 