Scrooge

"…Quarterly profits continue to be high… not as high as they were last season, but nothing to be concerned about…"

Scrooge absentmindedly rolled a coin between his fingers as he listened, sitting at his chair on the other end of the director's table. On the other end were three individuals – a large, imposing hyena, and two ducks, a man and a woman. Each of them was middle-aged, dressed in business suits and had completely emotionless expressions. His replacement directors, who'd been working with him for close to five years now. They were a dour lot who seemed to disagree with his decisions at every turn – precisely the traits he wanted in his director's board.

"…Our coal and gas investments are continuing to go down in value, but since we prepared for that in advance, we should be able to recover from that quite easily…" Continued the hyena, Mr Gnollic, pointing toward the screen at the end of the room. A slideshow of graphs and statistics was displayed upon it detailing the company's progress over the past three months.

"And the steel mill?" Scrooge spoke up. "I heard some kind of a scandal goin' on over there."

"Already taken care of." Gnollic replied automatically. "The offending manager has been let go, and the assistant manager put in his place for the time being. We should have a suitable replacement by the end of the week."

"Good." Scrooge replied, leaning back in his chair. "I've got no patience for that kind o' behaviour in my company."

"We know." Gnollic replied. He turned off the screen as the slide show finished, and said, "All in all, our position remains untouchable… an impressive position to maintain, especially in this economy."

"Excellent!" Scrooge clapped his hands and stood up, a satisfied smile on his beak. "That was quicker than usual, and with good news as well!"

"…Which is why we felt the need to discuss some of the… unnecessary risks that the company's taking." Gnollic said, giving Scrooge a cold look.

Scrooge spluttered indignantly for a moment, before leaping up in outrage. "Unnecessary risks? There innae anythin' I do that's 'unnecessary'!"

The male duck, who had dark grey headfeathers and thick glasses, held up a slab of papers. "We understand that you've agreed to fund the research of one Doctor…" He narrowed his eyes at the print upon the paper. "…Gutefeder."

"Gutefeder is an accomplished surgeon, an expert in his field!" Scrooge snapped. "He's performing important research in the surgical practice, research that can change the medical landscape as we know it!"

Gnollic glared at Scrooge. "Mr McDuck, this company already hires enough unstable individuals like Gearloose and Quackfaster. We don't need any more liabilities threatening our reputation."

"I will not have you sully the names of those two!" Scrooge shouted, furious. "They are the greatest minds in Duckberg!"

"They're deranged lunatics!" Gnollic shouted right back, leaping up from his seat. "I caught Gearloose trying to make my car sentient just this morning!"

"Gentlemen, please." The woman said sternly, forcing both men to calm down. As they returned to their seats, she continued. "This isn't about Doctor Gearloose, or Miss Quackfaster. We're just concerned about the reputability of this… Gutefeder person. You've given away a large sum of money to an unknown person, without notifying or conversing with us, and we need reassurance that you haven't signed away company resources on a… frivolous endeavour."

"I've never spent money on frivolous errands in me life." Scrooge replied.

"With the exception of your little adventures." Gnollic leant forward. "Which brings us to the second point of discussion. We understand that you've allocated resources for some kind of trip to Lebanon?"

Scrooge's eyes narrowed, and he stood up, glaring angrily at Gnollic. "That is a personal trip. None of yer concern."

"And yet it shows up on our reports as a 'business expenditure'."

"Oh, come off it! You know as well as I do that the more things marked off as 'business' is less money taken out of our pockets come tax time!" He leant back and smirked. "You cannae tell me you haven't written off the occasional-"

"Mr McDuck." Gnollic interrupted coldly. "We all know what your idea of a 'trip' is, and frankly, I don't understand how you haven't learned your lesson after what happened to your nephew."

Scrooge stiffened.

"I know full well that we can't stop you. Nobody can." Gnollic continued, his eyes trained on Scrooge. "But I will tell you now that not only is this… expedition you have planned, whatever it is, is unnecessary, dangerous, and foolish."

Scrooge leant back in his chair, folding his arms and glaring across the table at him. "You know…" He said in a low, dangerous voice. "I seem to remember my previous chairman saying something similar."

Gnollic shrugged. "Maybe he was right."

Scrooge didn't respond.

Scrooge emerged from the board meeting with a foul mood and a headache, rubbing his temples and muttering under his breath. He made his way over to his desk and sat down heavily in his chair, staring at the great iron door of his vault standing before him. He inhaled, then exhaled.

Then, he reached out to a drawer beside him, pulling it open and taking out a bottle of aspirin. Grabbing a glass of water from nearby, he took out one of the featureless white pills from within, put it into his mouth, then took a gulp of water to help it down.

As he did, he heard a loud buzz from the intercom set into the desk. He put the glass down, then pressed the button beside the device. "Yes?" He asked, trying not to sound irritated.

"Mr McDuck," Came the voice of the secretary downstairs. Scrooge forgot what her name was, they went through a few secretaries at the Bin. "Just a couple of updates while you were in your meeting. About thirty minutes ago, a… Mr Jack Nickel came around, requesting a meeting with you."

"What?" Scrooge asked, both confused and a little annoyed. "Who did he work for?"

"He said that he worked for himself."

"…And what did he want?"

"Uh… he didn't say."

Scrooge leant back in his chair, thinking. This was mysterious. No details, no employer, nothing but a name. In his experience, that could only mean an invitation to adventure…

…or a complete waste of time. Equal odds either way.

He leant forward and pressed the button on his intercom. "Schedule him in for a thirty-minute window for next week, any day where I don't have anything important going on. And tell him that he should consider himself lucky that he's even getting that!"

"Very well." The secretary replied. "The other thing is that your nephew, Louie, arrived about ten minutes ago. He's currently waiting in the reception area."

Louie. In an instant, his irritation disappeared, and Scrooge felt that terrible feeling of guilt welling inside him once more – the same guilt that arose whenever he laid eyes on the poor lad. He sighed, then told the secretary, "Send him up."

He waited a moment, jotting a couple of notes down as he did. Soon, the elevator doors opened, and his green-clothed nephew stepped out into his office, a satchel hanging from his shoulder, a can of soft drink in his hand and a sullen expression on his face. Not for the first time, Scrooge found himself reflecting on the horrible tragedy of it all. To be forced to take another life at such a young age… he could still see the scars on the young man's face, invisible, but deep.

"Louie." Scrooge greeted him.

"Hey." Louie muttered, not looking at him. He walked up to the middle of the room, stopping in front of the vault and leaning against it.

Scrooge nodded, then stood up. He knew that Louie didn't like it when he was treated like he was soft, so he got straight to the point. "I've summoned you here to talk about a couple of things. First and foremost…" Scrooge's eyes narrowed as he said this. "…I've heard rumour that you might not be engagin' with your schoolwork."

Louie smiled, a humourless smile that still wasn't facing him. "Huey?" He asked.

"No, actually." Scrooge replied. "Principal Tuckplume sent Della an email yesterday. Apparently, you've been absent fer about a third of your classes this semester."

"…Huh." Louie said with mild surprise.

There was silence for a moment. Scrooge eyed the teenager, waiting for him to own up to it, but no words were spoken.

"…Do you remember why I insisted you went to a public school, rather than a private one?" Scrooge asked slowly.

"Because you didn't want to pay private school fees?" Louie replied sardonically.

"It was so you boys and Webby could learn how to work." Scrooge snapped, standing up from his desk and walking over to him. "I've seen how private schools operate. They're a breedin' ground for the work-shy, full of boys who wouldn't know hard labour if it walked past them in a jester's costume! They pamper you with needless, unearned luxury, teachin' you that you never have te work a day in your life te be successful!"

Louie said nothing, taking a sip of his soda.

"In a public school, you learn what a working day looks like!" Scrooge continued irritably. "You don't have the best teachers, nor the best books, and so you're forced to take it into your own hands to knuckle down, work hard, and earn your certificate fair and square! And you can't do that if you don't-"

"I get it, alright?" Louie said angrily, finally looking at him with a heated expression. "I'm screwing myself over, I'm being lazy, blah blah blah. Can we move on, please?"

Scrooge's expression softened for a moment. "…If it were an issue of laziness, then this would be much simpler. But it ain't. And we both know it."

"Jesus Christ." Louie muttered, bringing the soda can back up to his beak. "I've gotten enough-"

Without warning, Scrooge swung his cane towards Louie, knocking the soda out of the boy's hand and sending it flying across the room, fizzy drink spilling across the floor. Before he could exclaim or react, the tip of the cane was suddenly jabbing into his chest, pushing him against the vault door.

"Watch. Your. Tongue." Scrooge growled.

Louie didn't say anything, staring back with a mixture of alarm and anger.

Scrooge kept the cane there for a moment, then relented, taking it back and marching back to his desk. "Your education is too important to be thrown away, Louie." He said sternly. "And as much as you don't want to admit it, you need our help."

Louie shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away. "…Pot calling the kettle black…" He grumbled.

"I'm aware of my own failin's, Louie. And the last thin' I want to see is you making the same mistakes."

Louie was silent and unresponsive for a moment.

"Can I go now?" He asked dully.

Scrooge studied the boy's face for a moment. Seeing that he wasn't going to engage with the topic of his schoolwork, he decided to move on to the next subject. "Not quite. There's something else I wanted te discuss with you."

"If this is about an internship or something, I'm not interested." Louie told him flatly. "Just so you know."

Scrooge got behind his desk, looking at Louie with an enigmatic smile. "What do you know about Phoenicia?"

Louie stared at him.

His eyes flicked to the left, then to the right, then back up to Scrooge.

"What?" He asked.

"Phoenicia. An ancient kingdom that once stood proud upon the eastern edges of the Mediterranean." Scrooge elaborated, opening up the main drawer in his desk. "Stands, eh… around about where modern Lebanon is today."

"…Uh…" Louie kept staring at him, confusion written across his face. "…Nothing? Huey and Webby are the history geeks…"

Scrooge pulled out a map and laid it across the table. The map detailed the Mediterranean Sea and the surrounding landmasses, with a great red circle drawn over the eastern edge of the waters. "They were a merchant civilisation, trading between Greece, Egypt, all the ancient cradles of civilisation!" Scrooge continued. "Innovators in industry, seafarin' and agriculture... if weren't for the Phoenicians, the classical civilisations would never have had the chance to thrive as they did!"

"…O… okay?" Louie replied, still lost.

"Sadly, the little that we know about the Phoenicians is all second-hand. Very little remains of their legacy, save for a temple built upon an island, just off the coast of Byblos." He looked up at his nephew, a wry smile still upon his face. "A temple that just so happens to magically rebuild itself if you bring a certain stone tablet to a certain pedestal at a certain time of year. A tablet that, as luck would have it, has recently come into my possession."

Louie blinked. Scrooge could see a flicker of understanding pass across his face.

"And within this temple," Scrooge said dramatically, "There is a cloak, fashioned from celestial silk, tapered with gold, and blessed by the Canaanite gods, that lies within this temple. Whoever dons this spectacular shawl becomes invulnerable to all threats, be they physical or magical!"

"Wait," Louie said, stepping forward from the vault and staring intently at Scrooge. "Wait, are you saying…?"

"I'm sayin' it's time for another adventure!" Scrooge declared dramatically, thrusting his cane into the air. "Put aside yer videographical games and yer needlessly loud parties, because we're back!"

Louie seemed stunned. Scrooge pulled out more documents, depicting both the remains of the ancient temple and the stone plate that Scrooge had acquired.

"When brought to the pedestal before the temple's entrance on the holy day of the Master of Thunder – this Sunday, as it happens – the temple reconstructs itself to the day it was built, in all of its glory and splendour!" Scrooge said, running his hand across the documents. "Underneath is a labyrinth of traps, monsters, and mayhem, all guarding this magical cloak from those who do not prove themselves worthy! Think of the challenge! The thrill!"

He turned around and looked up at the portrait above his chair, clenching his fist in excitement. "If we go on this adventure, it'll be more than just another adventure – it'll be our first adventure into the forgotten kingdom of Phoenicia! We'll uncover history that has never been seen before, make our mark on archaeology and treasure-hunting alike!"

For a moment, Louie was silent. Behind them, a tiny flap in the wall opened up, and a lightbulb with arms and legs walked out, carrying a roll of paper towel.

Then, Scrooge heard him speak up from behind. "If?"

This was it. This was the difficult part. Scrooge let his eagerness fade, and he turned around to face his nephew. "Well… it depends on whether you want to or not."

Louie looked away once again, though this time it wasn't in belligerence. Scrooge could see that the young lad was torn – and rightfully so. He made his way back out from behind his desk and approached him.

"I won't lie to you, Louie." Scrooge told him. "I'm a restless old man. I cannae just sit here, countin' beans and waiting for somethin' to happen. I have to get out there and feel the wind on my face, the rush of questin' in the name of treasure! The Lord knows that I tried to scratch that itch with the other team, but…" He shook his head and sighed. "…It just wasn't the same without you kids."

He let the silence settle for a moment before he spoke up again. "…But… I'm not going to put my own wanderlust before your wellbeing. If I drag you on an adventure before you're ready, while you're still recoverin', then I'll be doin' more harm than good. And don't tell me that yer fine with the rest of us goin' and you stayin' behind!" Scrooge added sternly. "We both know that's innae true, and I won't hear it. Either all of us go, or none of us."

Louie opened his beak, then closed it, as if trying to find words. "What… what if I say no?" He asked, his voice small and somewhat shaky.

"Then that'll be the end of it." Scrooge said simply. "I won't force you to go, and I myself will stay right here. I won't judge you or try to convince you further. That's the honest truth."

Louie swallowed. "…Does anyone else know?" He asked quietly.

Scrooge shook his head. "Not yet."

"Will you… tell them if I say no?"

"No."

Louie was silent once more. Scrooge could see the boy thinking it over in his head. He waited patiently, knowing full well that he wasn't going to get an answer today.

"What'll make this different from last time?" Louie asked, looking at his elderly uncle with scared, uncertain eyes.

"I will." Scrooge replied in a manner that was both gentle and determined. "There's nobody after us, nobody we have to beat. Very few even know about the temple's existence. We'll be safe. You'll be safe. And if at any point you don't feel comfortable, or you feel like it's too much… then we'll be home before the dinner bell is struck, and not a moment later."

After another pause in conversation, Scrooge approached his nephew and clapped him on the shoulder. "I'd suggest yeh sleep on it, lad. There ain't a rush, and yeh need time to think."

Scrooge heard a buzz from his intercom, followed by the voice of his secretary. "Mr McDuck? Doctor Gearloose wants to talk with you. Apparently he's trying to create artificial life again."

Scrooge turned to the intercom with a frown. He walked over to the button, pressed it down, and replied, "Tell him I'll be down there shortly." Turning back to Louie, he said apologetically, "I'll see you at home, lad. I've business to take care of."

He started to make his way over to the elevator, stepping around the Lil' Bulb as it mopped up the split drink. He pressed the elevator button with the tip of his cane and waited.

"…Uncle Scrooge?"

He turned around to face his nephew.

Louie looked at him, an uncharacteristic expression of determination and sureness on his face. "If you want… I can tell you my answer now."

Scrooge paused as the elevator arrived with a ding.