Onward Toward Challenges

Thomas heard a distant ringing sound. He groaned. It would be the alarm telling him to get ready for the conference. It was a little surprising that he didn’t wake up earlier. However, the old bones seem to be fine. There was no throbbing of the knees, hands felt fine, and moving the neck didn’t result in a crick or grinding. Today would probably be a good day.

Thomas opened his eyes. Well, shit. He could see the ceiling without his glasses. He sighed. Well, last night was an affair. He might see if anything had changed overnight. Sitting up, he located the source of the ringing: a small mechanical clock. He stopped it. He stood up and walked over to the closet. Discarding the pajamas in the hamper, he took a light blue button shirt and a pair of tan slacks. Dressing quickly, he went over to the window. He observed the sun barely peaking over the horizon.

He marveled at the grounds. Last night was not one to appreciate the beauty of a place. Arguably not even now since he and the others were being held here. Still…

A knock on the door stirred him out of his reverie. He turned around to see the butler come in holding a tray with one hand.

The butler glanced around the room. Sighing he snapped his fingers. A small table with a green-covered chair appeared next to the window Thomas was standing next to. The butler placed the tray down on the table and left the room.

Thomas moved only when the butler had left. He went to the door. Trying the handle, he was disappointed that they did not turn.

Had his wits been quicker he could have left before the butler sat down the tray. Although, it could have been futile either way. Shaking his head, he walked over to the table that had been summoned. Grasping the lid of the tray, he moved it aside.

Hot buttery smells filled the air. A stack of waffles with two sunny-side eggs and a couple of sausage links was on a china plate. A jar of a dark purple jam sat by a fork and knife next to the plate. The jar was labeled blackcurrant. A cup of tea rounded out the meal.

He slid the chair out, sat, and spread some jam onto the waffles with the knife. Couldn’t be wasting the food now. He also would be fortified to deal with whatever was ahead.

Chewing through the tangy tartness of the jam he considered the position.

One. No help was coming. His hosts had whisked him and the others to who knows where. The magical nature of the property would surely deter anyone without the same skills as the hosts from getting in.

Two. The butler knew exactly what he wanted this morning. The eggs were just right, and the tea was at the perfect temperature, which was good with the blackcurrant jam. The butler also knew he liked waffles over pancakes; moreover honey waffles.

Three. A look around last night showed many ways to while away the hours.

Thus while under the thumb of these fellows, they seem to know and want to attend to the small matters. Besides the constraints of the game, there seems to be nothing to worry about.

Taking a bite of the spiced sausage while looking outside, he considered the ‘contestants’. Besides colleagues, there was a mix of others. A student, stranger, childhood friend, and a person out of time.

He didn’t know if anyone would miss them. It could be that they slip into the space between seconds. If anything, among the others and himself, they would have to handle any breakdowns and arguments between themselves.

Cataloging the potential sore spots, Julie popped into mind immediately. She was a bright student. However, when hotels came up she seemed … tense. It was a small thing, but it could explode into something more. Need to tiptoe around that for now. For he saw how she handled her anger last night and he wasn’t sure that anything would stop her from expressing it. There was an independent streak in the girl too. Treating her like an equal rather than someone’s kid would probably be the best result for everyone.

A clashing point with Mica was very possible. Although he wasn’t chummy with the chemistry professor, there were signs of her personality when they shared the office. There was that little feeling. Each time he was in his office with her talking to a student, there was something in the interaction. Maybe a bit too much on the advice, a bit of **** level of camaraderie. Whatever it was, it would not fly too well with Julia. He needed to keep an eye on that.

He wasn't concerned about Rita and Clara doing something upsetting. For one, Second Lieutenant Clara Poulin was known for her calm demeanor. After all, he'd spent countless hours poring over the evidence of her life. It had been a small section of a much larger thesis, but he remembered it all. He had even obtained her diary from his father, who had inherited it from his grandfather. The point was, he knew her well enough to predict her response. Clara was methodical, always analyzing the situation before acting. She wasn’t the type to rush headlong into the unknown.

Rita was a composed professional, though she often asked many questions—something he didn't mind. Other patrons in the Blue Muse seemed to avoid questioning sojourns. She didn’t ask too many people either; she spent more time defusing arguments easily. She should be fine.

Under normal circumstances, Tatiana would be the least of anyone's worries. After three demanding years as department head, a thankless role she navigated with remarkable grace, her competence was unquestionable; her handling of delicate matters was impeachable. However, with three versions of her in the mix, one could only hope that her signature composure would emerge in at least one.

Agatha was … complicated. Besides her medical issues from long ago, he never could get a good read on her. That’s what made things … difficult. Drifting and so on. They clicked on some level but on what he couldn’t see. Past behavior suggests that she would do fine.

Of course, there were those he knew almost nothing about. Alexa Goldstain, for instance, was someone he'd last crossed paths with over fifty years ago. The gap seemed narrower now, thanks to her age regression. However, she was no more familiar to him now than that stranger he bumped into on the street.

And for the actual stranger, Ms. Mia Tang seemed like a reasonable lady. The apparent fondness of **** concerned him, though that was admittedly only one point of data, that did not make a pattern. He’d need to spend more time with her and Alexa to see how they might respond when the unexpected inevitably arose.

As he finished the last of the tea, he heard a splash. His attention moved from the lake to the pool. Ms. Tang was swimming in the pool. He didn’t peg her for an early exerciser. A few strokes and she was at the pool's ladder. Hauling herself up, he recognized that she was wearing yesterday’s clothes. An accident then.

He watched as the butler approached Mia, handed her something discreetly, and disappeared into the woods. The sight piqued his curiosity—what business could the butler have in the forest? And what exactly had he given to Ms. Tang? His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed her slipping out of her clothes. Embarrassed, he quickly averted his gaze, but not before noting her graceful figure. Her sudden half-nakedness raised an undeniable point.

To be blunt the hosts seem to expect him and the others to have sex. Could he in good conscience go through it with any one of them? The answer was maybe, and if the host liked to butt in almost certainly.

A different set of considerations then. Everyone sorted in the no’s, yes’s, and maybe’s.

On the no’s, Julia, Mica, Clara, and Tatiana were in that position.

Julia, besides being his student, had something she was grinding against. It would not be good for her to jump into any hanky-panky just to release that something. Making an intimate choice at this stage could lead to lingering tension and regrets, creating more harm than resolution.

Mica had a boyfriend potential in the picture and Tatiana had her husband. He would not want to give them any grief over cheating on their man.

Clara was Clara. It felt wrong to contemplate. Presumably, nothing he did here would affect anything … No, it still did not feel right.

On the yes’s, Agatha sat alone. They got along well enough and it wasn’t like it was their first rodeo together. What he remembered from their time together in that respect was very pleasurable.

He truly did not know about the others. Rita was pleasant enough, he didn’t view her that way. He was massively too old for her, though that had changed. Would she react positively to him? Alexa and Ms. Tang were both mysteries in personality. Nothing good could come from speculating now.

Mutterings made him glance back at the window. He saw the butler carrying a bright red thing out of the woods. Shortly behind him was Clara Poulin. So she decided to sleep in the woods. Bully for her. He watched as Clara took the now-dressed Ms. Tang into the manor.

Course nothing was written in stone. The second lieutenant was proof of that. Like that dinosaur movie, his pops liked to watch. A knock disturbed further thoughts. He glanced at the door as the butler opened the door.

The butler gestured elegantly toward the hallway, his voice calm yet firm. “Your presence is requested. The challenge doors will not open unless everyone is accounted for.”

Thomas rose from his seat and strolled out of the room without a glance at the butler. He mulled over the possibilities—perhaps there would be a chance to address the situation with the others before the challenge began. If not, the best thing to do is to encourage everyone to do their best. After the challenge, there would be plenty of time to talk.