Eren's Challenge E023 part one, White Ship Cabin

Eren’s Challenge

Written by Kenneth Shumaker

Episode 023, Part one, White Ship Cabin

With InUPress

Written on March 9, 2018

Part one published on Virily on April 10, 2018.

We now continue with Eren’s Challenge episode 023, ‘White Ship Cabin,’ on …

Trondel 1 of 78

Stuck here in the darkness with the rotting carrion stench of the navy glue that holds my feet immobile, I ponder my options quickly. Es is being held through the door that is invisibly concealed in the wall behind the illu-image of the mystery woman who oversees Violoi’s affairs.

“Damn it! Turn the friggin lights back on. I can’t go anywhere now!” I fume, not totally upset at the particular affairs, but more at myself for allowing Es to become bait and also me for falling into the trap.

Really though, for my work on this job to succeed, this was inevitable – unavoidable. I’m hating this Amber Calendar more now, but to get Angel and to clear my conscience this is part and parcel of the work.

Think Eren! I have quick release catches on my footwear, but then I’ll be barefoot, getting stuck in the glue.

Ouch, “Damn it, warn me next time your changing lighting!” I screech at my tormentor.

Waiting for my night-vision to shut-down and my cams to adjust to the glaring white hall with the gleaming bright fluorescent overhead lighting again. I blink multiple times as tears roll from my eyes.

A trickle of blood from my scalp drips into my eye. Brushing away the blood, I flinch as I touch the wound.

“Eren, you have two options now … surrender to my mercies … or second … you are now the Trump … with all that goes with the responsibilities!” The disembodied voice utters.

My eyes blink a couple more times to work the blurriness out. I see no one in the corridor with me now. “What the Gor are you talking about? … be the Trump? Who are you? Do you know anything about me?”

“You are the Challenge; a crime-fighting solo artist covering as a Master Robotics engineer working for Trontal’s research arm, which is working unsuccessfully. Mainly the work is failing because almost all of your resources are getting drawn from the project by your senior managers. You are in line for a mid-management promotion that we both know you’re going to be denied. We both also know that your life isn’t your own Eren; it’s Angel’s, and you have no out now. Your options are to die in my hands … or be the Trump working Angel’s Amber Calendar.”

Grunting harsh, then I breathe in as I guess she has it all figured out then. “Who are you? You never answered that!”

A soft female laughter echoes along the corridor for seconds before she answers. “I’m Omega, a Quantum computer built by a Gov research project to defend certain interests. I’m your friend … or your death – simple.”

Gasping and sitting in a squat, I think about this. “If I say yes, you’ll remove the device from Es?”

The concealed far door opens to show Es regaining consciousness, bound to the steel examine table.

Omega replies, “already done … I don’t need the device to take her away from you.”

Gulping I watch Es, as I calculate. “Remove the glue.”

A viscous white fluid flows from small holes low in the walls, creeping over the dark blue navy glue, sizzling and popping emitting a steady swirling sulphurous scented cloud of vapours as the glue dissolves on contact.

Standing, I man up. “Then it’s agreed … what do I do as the Trump.”

“What I tell you to do … for now … you go home and continue as you were. Report the death of Violoi as the Trump, to Angel. Then take care of Havar without killing him … control him.”

I shake my head twice as I have reservations. “Angel contracted me to kill, Havar.”

The voice chuckles. Then, says, “no! You were contracted to permanently deal with Havar and the Trump. You are!”

Whispering to myself, “I need a vacation!”

Again, Omega chuckles, then calmly says, “so then take one … I just booked passage for you and Esmelda on the Trojan Star … the cruise ship sails in two days. That’s plenty of time for you to write and present your progress report to the senior managers at Trontal and report to Angel; also inform them both that Ambassador Violoi has booked you a six-day cruise as a wedding gift.”

Choking back a nasty retort, I see the straps holding Es release. “So, what keeps you from offing me? … or Es?”

“My good word?”

Shivers run down my spine, I note her choice of words. I take it, with a grain of salt, as knowing that our lives are forfeit if the Omega computer decides it is so.

Walking into the lab, I find Es’ clothing neatly hung on hangers on a rack, and on a shelf in the same container. Taking her clothes to her, I turn my back as Es recovers enough to dress.

As she taps my shoulder, the one with the bullet bruise, I flinch and turn to embrace her. I offer Es a kiss, which she passionately returns.

Stepping back, I say, “the Trump has booked us a six-day cruise as our wedding gift, and he offers an apology for Violoi’s treatment of you. Violoi has been taken care of, and I’ve dealt with the Trump. We should beat it out of here before the cleaning crew arrives … Omega? We could use a guide out and a ride home!”

“Done!” A faint blue trail on the floor lights our path out to the appropriate lifts, and out front.

Waiting outside at the door is my car with Tol in the back seat unconscious, with the destination to our home already programmed in.

Turning to Es, I lower my gaze slightly to her shoulder as I say, “my dear … we are never alone … when together or apart. We have a friend named Omega guarding over us. But be wary, she gets jealous I hear.”

My com screen flashes twice.

I chuckle softly.

Trondel 4 of 78

Stepping into the ship’s bright white cabin of the first-class deck which Omega booked us on the Trojan Star, I chuckle at the quantum computer’s sense of humour. The glaring stark bright white of the cabin is an obvious hint at a reminder to Violoi’s end.

Our bags are already here and unpacked by stewards. We are able to simply relax for the next six days of the cruise.

A few minutes into our relaxing there is a hard, rasping knock on our cabin door.

I respond by opening the door slowly, peering through the crack. On the other side, I see the ship’s Captain standing at attention, politely patiently waiting.

“Good day, Captain Junimio,” I say as I pull open the cabin door with a swish.

Bowing slightly, he responds with a small polite smile and says, “yes, Good-day, Master Eren. I just came by to say that for your passage, you have purchased two seats to dine each meal at the Captain’s table. I’m informing you I dine at 3, 6 and 9 o’clock; if you wish to join me for meals. I usually attend meals for about an hour … you are both more than welcome to join us.”

Offering to shake hands, as I nod. “We’d be honoured, Captain.”

He shakes hands then bows and curtly turns, quickly walking away.

This ends this Eren’s Challenge episode 023, part one, ‘White Ship Cabin,’ written by, Kenneth Shumaker.

May the words stay with you!

www.inupress.ca inupress@inupress.ca

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