ã€ŠImmortals Prisonã€‹


 Chapter One: The Bar

    Jeb sat at the bar, a glowing drink before him. The bartender, a pretty woman with a constant smile, rarely spoke. The sensation of the drink was a product of his own mind, aided by his built-in A.I., an A.I. built into Jeb¡¯s electric field as a composite of standing waves, Jeebz. Jeebz ran his Doll, assisted with advanced calculations, and provided a photographic memory without the need for one.

    Like everyone else here, Jeb had no need for food or drink. Their bodies, called Dolls, were made from factory materials. Despite their artificial nature, these bodies retained many human functions, and people enjoyed caring for them, dressing them up, and more.

    Death had become merely a transition from one Doll to the next. Spirits transferred from one body to another, a process known as Transference. Since Transference became common, death lost its terror. As long as you were within fifteen minutes of a Transference machine, which were nearly on every corner, you were safe. The only exception was total obliteration of the Doll, which was rare. Only a few experienced that freedom¡ªRocket Racers, members of the corps, or those who fought in wars and lost their ships in flames.

    Jeb was too annoyed to really think about this kind of stuff. It was business as usual. It was once said that, a long time ago, one didn''t need a Doll. But those were all legends now, mere myths.

    Jeb drank his beverage and leaned forward, troubled. He had just finished his two hundred thirty-first swordsman competition, and once again, he won. He had also just won the Arts competition, a hand-to-hand combat that seemed to include supernatural abilities and mind-over-matter techniques.

    Everything seemed so easy, so boring. He had specifically altered Jeebz not to report these thoughts to the authorities. Thinking like this could get him canned in tin and sent to reconditioning and programming. People were never the same after that. Sometimes Jeebz had more of these thoughts than Jeb did.

    Jeb ordered another drink and looked around the bar, hiding his disgust at the perfectness of it all. Everything was always in the right spot, never changing. They probably hadn''t changed a bolt in several thousand years, at best.

    Life in the Systems was boring. The only exciting things were the rocket races or the Art and Swordsman Competitions. The war with the Invaders didn¡¯t really count. A weird race that used a lot of electronics to control other beings. Though the war had died down quite a bit, and the news had been quiet about it. The war had been going on for thousands of years, around the first time he recalled having a memory.

    Jeb grabbed his next drink and began to chug it when Gaedon entered the bar, up on his high horse, as usual.

    Gaedon, a tall Doll with flowing blonde hair, shining armor, a sword at his hip, a blaster on the other side, and a badge on his armored chest. He was the epitome of good looks and charm, a good guy, saving kittens in trees and telling children not to watch too much feed.

    Yep, Gaedon was an asshole, and Jeb hated him. Sure, that smile could swoon any female Doll. The mayors loved him, and the police worshiped him. Problem was, he was Jeb¡¯s superior officer in the corps, which Jeb volunteered for. Jeb knew Gaedon better than most.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°Jeb, I thought I might find you here,¡± said the asshole.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m here. What do you need? I¡¯m off duty.¡± Just then, Jeb got a tele from Jeebz straight to his mind. Jeb, we have an assignment, just assigned by the corps.

    Gaedon stood there, looking at Jeb, shaking his head. With a tone and voice that had a poisoned edge, and slightly louder than needed, Gaedon spoke, not directly at Jeb, though it seemed that he was. ¡°As soon as you¡¯re sober, Jeb, there¡¯s an assignment. Don¡¯t mess it up this time.¡±

    Asshole. Jeb hadn¡¯t had a failed mission in nearly four hundred years. And that was because Gaedon decided to jettison the reactor rather than listen to Jeb¡¯s advice to just replace the coil. Though Gaedon denied that Jeb ever said it. Gaedon dropped the million-ton reactor into the black of space anyway.

    Jeb didn¡¯t reply. There was no right answer. Gaedon had a knife in his boot, up his sleeve, and one already at your throat. Best to leave it be. Instead, he shifted his weight and stepped off the stool.

    Gaedon didn¡¯t incite fear in Jeb. In fact, he wished Gaedon would put him in fear. At least it would be a different emotion than boredom.

    Gaedon thought himself a good swordsman. He¡¯d been studying for the past two hundred years, which is more than the average. But over the last nine thousand, Jeb had been studying many other skills and achievements.

    Jeb had studied the sword since his first memories, seven thousand years ago, and the Art. Gaedon didn¡¯t scare Jeb. Though he could be a royal pain in the ass. ¡°Gaedon, I¡¯ve been updated already. I¡¯ll be on post when¡ª¡± BANG! A flash bomb went off in the bar. The light was blinding. The room was full of commotion. Several Dolls came rushing in with guns blazing. Several Dolls dropped from blaster fire, hot bolts of plasma melting holes through metal and synthskin.

    They came rushing into the wrong bar.

    Jeb stepped forward to the nearest criminal running near him, raising his arm with a fully coordinated body motion. The criminal¡¯s neck collided with an immovable object, which stopped, but the rest of the criminal did not. Cheap Doll.

    With another swift motion, Jeb spun around as a blaster fired off in his direction. The spin got him several paces closer to the next enemy. With a swift palm to the chest, the man dropped, chest caved in, internals fried.

    Blaster fire seemed to slow down. Gaedon himself was in the fray. His sword swinging about, limbs flying. There were only a few others left.

    Jeb squared his shoulders. That¡¯s when he realized his drink was still in his left hand. Holding eye contact with the criminals, he chugged the last of his drink and set the mug down gently on the nearest table.

    Sirens were getting closer. Only another minute or two, and the police would be here. The criminals began to run away. Jeb sat down and ordered another drink.

    Gaedon turned to Jeb, noticing Jeb¡¯s sword still in its sheath. After a second, Gaedon spoke. ¡°You let them go.¡± Blame dripping like poison.

    ¡°I¡¯m not on duty. And they¡¯ll be caught.¡± He looked up at the tall asshole. ¡°You can go save the day if you want.¡±

    The glare was blaster fire, and Gaedon walked out. ¡°Be at the docking bay. If you¡¯re late, you¡¯re out of the corps.¡± Gaedon was gone, and it smelled better in the bar.

    The pretty bartender came over and filled up Jeb¡¯s drink. ¡°Thanks, Jeb.¡± She smiled and then walked back to the other side of the bar.

    The police came in with blank Dolls, Dolls empty and ready to be occupied, already in manacles. The transference machine was right behind them. A tall pole with a ring of coils. A couple of lights went from green to red, and then they were off.

    You know, Jeebz, maybe they have it right.

    Who? The criminals? He could feel the confusion from the computer.

    At least they weren¡¯t bored. Never mind. Jeb dropped it. That was dangerous territory.

    Jeb drowned the boredom in his drink again. The rest of them were on the house. The only reason Jeb interfered in the earlier robbery.

 Chapter Two: Transport

    Jeb woke in the alley before sunrise. The bartender had put a small blanket over him, not that he needed it, but it was kind of her.

    Jeebz, time. 5 a.m. You have thirty minutes to get to the dock.

    He got up and checked his credit chip, making sure he wasn''t rolled in his drunken stupor. Everything was there. He looked around and found the nearest hose sticking out of the wall. Rinsing his face off, he decided to head out.

    After several attempts, he finally got a hovtax. He was at the dock on time, barely. Exchanging the chips, he left the hovtax and stepped into the security step-in.

    He placed his sword and blaster pistol in the weapons slot. Everything else was fine as he walked through. When he reached for the bin his weapons were in, he was stopped by the stench of crap. It was Gaedon.

    ¡°You made it. Barely in one piece, though.¡± Jeb looked down at himself; it was true, he looked like hell. He stayed quiet. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯ll be getting a Sac at the ship. No one goes to a PP in a Doll.¡±

    A PP. Prison Planet. This was different. Jeebz noticed the surprise in Jeb¡¯s emotion. We will be transporting a criminal to a PP.

    Jeb didn¡¯t reply. ¡°Okay. Lead on, boss man.¡± He waved his hand as an indication for Gaedon to walk ahead of him.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not going on this one. I have another. Just go to bay fourteen. The criminal has already been put on the ship.¡± Then Gaedon did something odd, he smiled. ¡°Have a safe trip, Jeb.¡±

    This was not going to go well.

    After several hours, Jeb found himself on a table next to a Sac, a fully biological body. Far more frail than a Doll. Though all of these were genetically engineered to still be strong and fast. The one benefit of a Sac is that they heal on their own, no replacement parts needed unless a limb ended up being lost. The last time he was in one of these was several thousand years ago, early on in this memory stream.

    Another short Doll came in with an electroboard, a sheet of clear plastic, touch screen for notes.

    ¡°A couple of questions, Jeb. Where do you want your AI installed?¡±

    ¡°My inner ear with a contact on the lobe for hard connection from a clip if needed. Otherwise, wireless is fine.¡±

    ¡°Okay, and what do you want the body to look like?¡±

    Jeb didn¡¯t really care, but decided to make it as good as he could. ¡°I want good endurance, lean, lift about four hundred pounds. But mainly I want speed and regeneration. Green eyes, black hair, long.¡±

    After taking the notes, he walked over to the computer console in control of the new blank. A few injections and some flashing lights over the Sac, and it was done.

    ¡°Give it a few hours. Make sure to feed it, it¡¯ll be weak for a few days.¡± Jeb nodded and closed his eyes. This part was always a bit weird.

    A few minutes later, Jeb was disoriented. He¡¯d been put in Sac¡¯s before, for various missions, including espionage in slave cities, but usually just transferring to an upgraded Doll.

    A greenish  light shone over his head said and he began to feel a bizarre sensation of being tugged.  ¡°Relax.¡± The doctor said, but the voice seemed distant and soft. Soon he was looking at his own face, faded and nearly black and white, and very dim. Then his perceptions flipped and flickered, he couldn¡¯t tell which way was down or up. It was almost as though he could see in all directions but did not have the attention to take it all in at once, so it would flicker from point to point.

    The light seemed to carry him for some time and then he noticed the Sac¡¯s head. A few minutes later, he could feel a thumping in his chest and sensation in his chest of rising and lowering. Then the pain began. His head felt like it was on fire. It felt like an eternity, blackness and a flutter, then the pain was gone.

    He opened his new eyes. The vision felt, different. The light was irritating his eyes, so he raised his arm shakily to block it. After several seconds his eyes adjusted.

    The Doll doctor came back over and started scanning him back and forth with what looked like a long rod. ¡°Everything seems to be working. Remember, take it easy in this thing at first.¡± Then it walked off.

    Looking around, Jeb found his uniform and put it on. It was lightly armored, flexible, and atmo-conditioned.

    Jeebz, you there? After some buzzing and tuning, Jeebz responded that it was. The sensation was a bit different. More auditory than digital.

    Jeb, my data storage is limited. The Sac¡¯s electric field that contains the data is significantly smaller. I can only keep about a thousand years of memory. The rest is still stored on the main storage drive, in your Doll. I¡¯ve chosen what we would need for this kind of mission, and then some. We should be fine with what we have, though.

    This was the first moment he felt startled. He had forgotten about the memory limitation. There was no longer a power source to maintain the electric field. Now,Jeebz could only retain his combat training, and his engineering. What was most lost was the visual and auditory data portions of his past missions, which would not be needed on a simple mission like this.

    After several more hours of prepping the ship, he noticed no one else was coming. He was the only crew on the small speeder. In the cockpit, he connected Jeebz with the computer wirelessly and began his countdown with the control tower.

    Flipping a switch, he felt the cyclotron kick on, powered by the electromagnetic energy collection field, or EECF for short. A field that absorbed the full spectrum of energy that was ambient in the space around him from nearby stars. It operated as a well point that energy, much like static attracted dust, it would absorb a myriad of wavelengths to charge its batteries. Going through space it would collect all the power it needed, as the field would be expanded thousands of miles, and at the speeds they would go, would collect all it needed.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    After a few more minutes, the cyclotron was spun up and he could feel the mild vibration of the ship. It was a small ship, with a needle point and no wings, but slight nubs sticking out the sides from front to back. All in all, the ship was sixty feet long and about twenty feet in diameter. A small transport speeder.

    Jeebz, the prisoner?

    He¡¯s asleep in the holding cell.

    ¡°Good enough for me.¡± Tossing aside the checklist to verify the prisoner was fully secure, he called up the control tower. ¡°Speeder forty-seven, good for launch. Over.¡±

    ¡°Speeder forty-seven, you may launch.¡±

    Jeb hit the throttle with a few touch-sensitive buttons. The control of the vessel was two control balls and some pedals, though the ship¡¯s computers linked with Jeebz smoothed out any bumps by controlling thrusts and power to accommodate need. It was a responsive craft, limited in weapons but nimble.

    Jeb found himself in the nearest space lane, a path made of rings hundreds to millions of miles apart that created an electromagnetic pull from ring to ring. It was similar to the old coil guns in the museums.

    Over a period of a few minutes, he had fully accelerated and the stars became huge. Everything seemed to stop for a split second, then he saw himself walk backward away from his seat, and then it all vanished, as though his life had been rewind for a few seconds.

    He had just broken the speed of light. Once the speed of light had been surpassed enough, everything went back to normal. The ship left the space lane of rings after an hour, safely out of the solar system, and his own thrust continued to accelerate him.

    Jeebz, distance to destination?

    Two point three million light-years. Current acceleration, we¡¯ll be there in approximately fourteen days, two hours, and eighteen minutes. Deceleration starts in seven days, one hour, and nine minutes.

    With a nod, he pulled up the galactic map with a wave of his hand over the visual receiver. A hologram showing Prime 1, the Core Capital of Systems, and all of its thousands of space lanes. Taking his two hands, he pinched the galaxy down until the nearby galaxies were in view. His destination: Drakudai. A large galaxy with minor inhabitants. Mostly primitives, from the little he¡¯d read in the last few hours.

    A rim world for a PP? That¡¯s strange. He thought to Jeebz.

    I was analyzing the data on the galaxy named Drakudai. There are few records referencing it as Drakudai. The PP, the system Sol, was selected because it is far enough away, but still within a few hours of a PP  relay station. Though it¡¯s been there for a long time. There isn¡¯t a lot of information on Drakudai itself other than telemetry data. Though it¡¯s said this prison planet is old. Founded about five hundred thousand years ago. There are indications that it was once controlled by another intelligence before then.

    Jeb leaned back, pondering this. An old PP in a new galaxy. The numbers glaringly didn¡¯t add up.

    Is there a file on this PP?

    Some. The files poured out onto the hologram overlaying the galaxy. From what I have studied of it, there isn¡¯t much there. It¡¯s... It¡¯s been empty for seventy-five million years, per our excavations and recon of the galaxy.

    Looking through the files, Jeb noticed that there was an acquisition date on this PP. About five million years ago, besides some data on gravity and minerals it was surprisingly empty.

    He decided to stop thinking about it and waved the file and map away. He wasn¡¯t a scout, nor was he doing a survey.

    Jeebz, I¡¯m going to check out the rest of this little ship.

    Acknowledged. Jeebz ringed within Jeb¡¯s inner ear.

    Jeb unlocked the armored door that connected the cockpit to the rest of the ship. The ship had been modified from a regular speeder into a transport speeder. Going through the rest of the ship, which was quite small, he found the privy, captain¡¯s quarters, an exercise room with some weights, a small kitchen, crew quarters with a set of bunk beds, and a door that went to engineering, which he didn¡¯t want to go through. That left only one more room: storage, which had been altered into a prison cell. The ship had been clearly modified for Sac¡¯s.

    Jeb found himself staring at a man sitting cross-legged in a Sac, with his eyes closed. It looked like he was sleeping, but to Jeb¡¯s trained eyes, he knew when someone was aware or not, and this man was aware.

    His prisoner seemed interesting for some reason. After a few moments, his curiosity got the better of him and he hit the intercom button next to the door.

    ¡°Prisoner, what are you charged with?¡± Jeb asked.

    Without opening his eyes, the man seemed to smile for a split second. ¡°For being free.¡±

    This piqued Jeb¡¯s curiosity even more. ¡°Ha, what do you mean by that?¡±

    Opening his eyes and looking through the porthole, he made eye contact with Jeb. ¡°It¡¯s hard to explain freedom to someone who doesn¡¯t have anything to compare it to.¡± He shook his head slightly, as though letting it go. ¡°Once I got a taste of freedom, I could see what it wasn¡¯t.¡±

    Jeb frowned, trying to understand. He knew the definition of freedom, but what this man was saying seemed like gibberish. Sure, following the rules was important. Yes, Jeb had altered his own AI to avoid the Thought Police for out-of-line thoughts, but that didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t free.

    ¡°So what is freedom compared to not freedom then?¡± Jeb egged him on.

    ¡°To think without being arrested. To do without being arrested. To be without being told what to be.¡± The criminal closed his eyes once again. ¡°It comes down to the power of choice.¡±

    Jeb stepped away shaking his head. Obviously, the man was a criminal, but he couldn¡¯t see the crime. He stepped back up to the glass. ¡°Okay, fine, but what did you do specifically?¡±

    The man didn¡¯t answer for some time. Finally, he got up and stretched, an interesting motion, and Jeb realized the doctor had told him to do some as well.

    The man was scrawny and small. Prisoners were always put into weak Sac¡¯s. Everything about him showed weakness. Everything but his eyes.

    ¡°You want to know what I did?¡± He shrugged. ¡°Okay, I sold information to the enemies.¡±

    And there it was. His crime, which happened to be high treason.

    ¡°Ha! So, all that about freedom.¡± Figured. Jeb walked off with the criminal shaking his head.

    Jeebz, I¡¯m gonna go take a nap. Wake me up when we get there.

    Affirmative, replied Jeebz.

    Jeb went to the captain¡¯s quarters and looked around. Pretty basic. A desk, a chair, a small recliner for comfort reading, and a bed. Though the bed was more advanced and designed for Sacs. It had a glass chamber that could come down over it and put the body into a deep sleep. Several injections while asleep kept his body from being stiff and kept him regenerating properly.

    He relieved himself in the privy first and then ate and drank. Turning about in the cabin once again, he decided to do some stretching, which caused his muscles to burn slightly and then his bones to pop. A very strange sensation.

    Looking around, he found a note on the desk which he had missed earlier. It was emblazoned with the Core¡¯s Seal. He opened it up and read its contents:

    Standing Order 4721Handling of PP Agents & Prisoners

    It is hereby a Standing Order that all Prime Dolls, whether in Sac form or Doll form, never reveal that they are from another world. Doing so is chargeable with high treason.

    Jeb tossed it in the trash, the lasers immediately disintegrating it into carbon and then flushed it into space.

    After he was ready, he verified with Jeebz that all was good and then went and lay down. The chamber coming down, he fell asleep.

    His last thoughts before falling into deep hibernation couldn¡¯t help but be about freedom.

 Chapter Three: The Prisoner

    Jeb woke with a mild headache, which was normal after hibernation. Rubbing his eyes, the glass chamber rose away from the bed and melted into the ceiling above him. He rolled out of bed and looked around. ¡°Jeebz, status.¡±

    We are one day away.

    Nodding, he returned to the privy and relieved himself for nearly two minutes. Afterward, he ate, starting with a small meal and sipping water. Too much could overload his system after hibernation, and he could be bedridden for the rest of the trip.

    ¡°Status of the prisoner?¡± he asked.

    The prisoner is sleeping. Jeb headed to check on him.

    Again, in his cross-legged position. It looked as though he hadn¡¯t moved. Though it was obvious he had been eating, there were some crumbs on the ground next to an empty plate.

    ¡°How are you holding up?¡± Jeb asked through the intercom.

    The criminal opened his eyes, looking at Jeb. ¡°Besides being a prisoner? I¡¯m alive, I guess.¡± There was some sarcasm in his tone.¡±

    No one but slaves typically had Sacs. They were the manual labor where machinery couldn¡¯t work. Or for the people who just seemed unable to run a Doll, who then turned into slaves, just by being in a Sac. All prisoners were in Sacs.

    ¡°We''re about a day away from the PP.¡± Jeb stopped and thought for a moment. ¡°I''m gonna get you one last meal. I¡¯ve always thought that one last meal was the least the Core could do.¡±

    The man nodded his head and thanked him for it.

    About thirty minutes later, Jeb had a plate full of food in one hand and a blaster in the other. ¡°Go ahead and go to the back wall while I open this door.¡± The criminal complied, and Jeb gave the order to Jeebz to open the door, against the suggestion that he was breaking protocol.

    Jeb placed the plate on the bed, keeping an eye on the prisoner, who then said something stunning.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°And that¡¯s freedom.¡± The criminal was smiling slightly. Jeb didn''t know what the guy was talking about. After a few seconds, the criminal decided to elaborate. ¡°You coming in, against standing orders. You did something because you, for some reason, felt it right, even though it was against the rules.¡± Stopping and thinking for a second, he went on. ¡°You have an altered AI, don''t you?¡±

    Jeb stepped back to the door, closed it, and went to the cockpit.

    He hadn¡¯t realized that he had done all that. He just did it. But more so, the man knew about Jeebz. His head was still hurting, so he laid back down on the bed. Headache, he thought to Jeebz. A few seconds later, an injection came from the bed into his arm, a saline shot with extra salt.

    Remember, salt helps your body absorb water. Headaches can come from dehydration. Jeebz was lecturing again.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. I know.¡± Within twenty minutes, the headache was gone, which pissed him off even more.

    Jeb took a sonic shower in the privy, a shower that used sound waves and pulsing EM fields to rid the body of foreign entities, including germs that were not indigenous to his DNA makeup.

    Putting back on his clothes, which also went through the sonic shower, he couldn''t help but think about what the man said. It kept going through his head. How did he know about Jeebz? Breaking the law to let him have decent food. Did they know he had done that? Of course not, no one knew. Jeebz would have told him if there were recorders on the ship that were out of his control.

    He found himself back at the door to the prisoner¡¯s cell, staring at the man, who again was back in his folded position.

    ¡°Are you some kind of alien mind hacker?¡± referring to a person who has the ability to control others¡¯ AIs.

    ¡°No.¡± He was calmly looking at Jeb.

    ¡°Then how did you know?¡±

    He once again got up and stretched, and that¡¯s when it hit Jeb. This man wasn¡¯t afraid of anything. Not even a PP. Not even the memory loss that was to come. This man owned the room and the ship for that matter, even though he was a prisoner.

    The criminal went over and sat down on the bed, picking up his lunch and finishing eating it. ¡°Well, when you are free, you tend to think outside the box.¡± Finishing his sorry excuse of a meal, he set the plate down on the floor and continued. ¡°Do you know that maybe one percent of the population even knows that the AI can be altered to not report them? That maybe only fifty percent of that one percent even have an inkling that they might want that?¡±

    The criminal started to slowly pace the room. Not out of frustration, but as though he were going on a stroll through his favorite park. He glanced at Jeb a few times.

    Jeb was clearly confused. What was he trying to say? That Jeb, too, was a criminal? Sure, he edited his A.I. But that was so he could specialize in his swordsman and Art training. He wasn¡¯t trying to be malicious. He just wanted to train.

    And that¡¯s when two things struck him. The second being an explosion on the left side of the ship, knocking the first one out of his mind.

 Chapter Four: Best Landing

    Jeb woke again with a headache pounding his brains in, this time it wasn''t from a lack of salt, but more from a space mine going off on the side of the ship.  At least that''s what was being repeated in his head until he finally answered.

    ¡°Ok, ok.  I got it.  We''re not dead.  So, chill out.¡±  But he soon found out that he might as well be.  The prisoner was in the cockpit.

    Jeb ran to the door as soon as Jeebz let him know.  The door, of course, was locked.

    The intercom rang through.  ¡°I''m sorry, but I think this is going to be for the best.¡±  It was the criminal''s voice.

    ¡°Damn it!  I know this must be hard for you...¡± Jeb couldn''t think of his name... Did he even know it ever?

    ¡°Gabin, the names Gabin.¡±

    ¡°Okay Gabin, I know this must be hard for you.  Going to a PP.  But this ain''t good, it''s just going to increase your sentence even longer.¡±  Jeb was still holding his head from the pain.  He found some blood coming from the side of his head.

    ¡°There is no ''longer'' sentence.  Once you go to a PP, you don''t leave.  It''s not just a Prison Planet, but a forgetting ground.  But either way, that''s not what I mean.¡±

    Ok, he wasn''t just a criminal, he was crazy.  ¡°Gabin, you are going to take a stolen ship into a prison system.  You realize that?  There is no way.  Jeebz has locked you out of the controls by now.¡±

    That''s not exactly accurate, Jeb.

    What do you mean!? He screamed in his head

    He seemed to have manually hacked the console.  He¡¯s flying manually.  At least for the most part.  We are close enough to the system that he can visually fly there with the aid of basic nav screens.  He has no way of changing course.  But he hasn''t tried too either.  He didn''t even try to get into the computer to alter the coordinates.

    Jeb paused for a bit, the headache seeming to subside under the amount of confusion.  Not trying to escape?

    ¡°Gabin.  What are you doing?¡±  He asked gently.

    ¡°Remember my name, Jeb.  I''m Gabin, the one that gave you your freedom back.¡±

    And with that, they passed the field just on the outside of Azibo''s moon.  An electric field that operated similarly to the transference units, but huge.

    Jeb, we have a problem.  We are not gonna be able to land... properly. The space brakes are on, slowing us down, but not enough to land right.  We''re going to crash, and the emergency beacon has been deactivated. Jeebz reported.

    Jeb looked around for a way to get in the door.  But it had been sealed and meant for anyone not to get through, without the pilot letting them through.  It was fully mechanical.  No computer attached to it. And Gabin was gone.

    ¡°Ok, crash landing.  I''ve had plenty of those...¡±  He thought for a bit.  But there were no safe spaces to be when crash landing, except maybe in the cockpit.

    He ran into the Captain''s cabin and looked at the bed.  What kind of glass is used in the hibernation tank?

    Class Three blast armor.

    Good.  ETA to impact?

    Thirty-seven minute, twelve seconds.

    Jeb ran through the ship looking for anything to get through to the cock pit. He had some time for hope. But fifteen minutes of failure drowned it all.

    He ran into the grew courters and ripped the blankets and pillows off the two beds and ran back in the Captain''s cabin.  He smushed the blankets all around him and then the pillows.

    Lower the glass. He told Jeebz.

    The liquid glass began forming its webbing and then solidified into a clear cylinder around him.

    Jeb knew the space brakes were designed to slow a ship down while inside a solar system if near enough to a planet, if the pilot became unavailable, a small help in landing on a planet. But the computer had been fried, and so no other safety systems had been available to assist the space brakes. It was enough to have a normal crash instead of being an extinction level event.

    Stolen story; please report.

    Gimme an injection that will keep me from flexing up.

    The needle pierced the blankets and entered his skin just in time.  He felt the mush of entering atmosphere.  Hopefully he wasn''t going too fast.  It seemed instant incineration from hitting the atmosphere was a good sign.

    Soon, he felt his muscles relax beyond his control.  Sadly, this also meant his bowels.  Which was fine, as they were going to release everything anyway.

    From the corners of the room a foam was sprayed into the room. Impact Gel!

    Jeebz began a countdown in Jeb''s head.

    10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

    Everything went black.

    The first perception of Jeb''s body was pain.  Before consciousness, he could feel pain, as though a distant thing.  The next perception was Jeebz, telling Jeb to wake up.  Which finally worked.

    Jeb, we have one hour to get out of the ship before it melts down.  Wake up Jeb.  Wake up Jeb. Repeating back and forth.

    With a groan Jeb began to move.  Forgetting he was wrapped in blankets, meant squirming around in the chamber.  Finally unraveling himself he saw the wreckage.

    The wall on his right was simply gone.  He could see a blue sky and sand below, maybe about ten feet down, and dunes for as far as he could see.  To the left there was, well, nothing was as it once was.  The walls were no longer walls.  The chair was no longer a chair, the desk was mangled and had merged with the wall.

    He ordered the chamber open.  It didn''t open.  Power was off.  Obviously.

    With a few a lot of grunting and five minutes later, the glass chamber was pushed off of the bed and tipped out the edge of the ship, out onto the sand.  The gravity was heavy!  Maybe twice what he was used to.

    Besides being badly bruised, his body seemed to be fine.

    I''m going to need maps.  Jeb thought to Jeebz.

    I''m sorry, Jeb.  Gabin removed them.

    Jeb shook his head in annoyance.

    He looked through the remains of the room, grabbed his sword and his blaster locked underside of the bed and strapped them on, sword on his back and the blaster on his hip.

    Going through the rest of the ship, he grabbed a few other items, mostly food.

    After a few more minutes, he decided to take some of the medical shots.  With a few blaster fires, he opened up the container that had been crunched shut.  The impact of the laser blaster shattered the metal around it.  Most of the injections were gone, but some of them still good.

    Since he was going to be running, he took one for water, and one to keep his body from cramping up.

    After one more sweep and with about forty-five minutes left before meltdown of the core, he jumped out onto the sand, avoiding the glass.   That''s when he saw the rest of the wreckage... out across the landscape.

    As he moved further away, he encountered more debris from the ship. The scattered wreckage around him was far more extensive than what remained intact. When he noticed the cockpit, broken and separated from the rest of the ship, he felt relieved he hadn''t been in there.

    And then it dawned on him.  There was no transference machine here.

    Fear.  Worry.  Terror.

    It took Jeebz another ten minutes to get him to start running.  Minutes later he looked back, he hadn''t made it very far, maybe twenty miles, but he couldn''t see the ship, the dunes were many.

    ¡°Is this going to be far enough?¡±  He asked Jeebz.

    ¡°Yes, this should be fine.  Now bury your body under the sand.  The flash may be too much for your Sac''s eyes.¡±

    Jeb quickly spent the next three minutes burrowing into the dunes base as fast as he could.  He got about four feet in, when he heard the roar.  The flash was still bright burrowed in this far.  But it was for a mere split second.  The roar created a wind.  The ground started to vibrate as the shock wave came.  Sand flew like shrapnel over his dune.

    The dune moved and he began to get buried even more.  He started to back his way out.  The idea that no transference machine around caused him to flail about, wildly swinging backward as though swimming, until finally he was out.

    Above him, in the sky, a mushroom cloud.  The dune had been reshaped as well.  It was now wider and less tall.

    The wind began to go in the opposite direction of the initial blast, and a few minutes later, it was all calm again, except for the smoke cloud in the sky.

    Climbing up to the top of the tallest nearby dunes, the sight was shaking.  A gigantic crater came out ten miles.  Another ten miles, up to nearly his dune started out flat and slowly became more and more hills once again.  Though the rest of the dunes for another five miles were still smoother than the rest of the desert.

    Jeb was happy to be alive.

    Which was an odd sensation.  He sat down and pondered that feeling for the next two hours.

    As the sun set and the cold set in, he realized he had no blanket. With only his atmo suit, he decided to walk to increase his circulation and stay warm. Combined with the atmo suit, it should be enough to keep him comfortable.

    After several hours of travel, his AI analyzed the surroundings and adjusted his course. In the distance, he spotted the glow of a large bonfire. After a moment of contemplation about what he might find on this prison planet, he decided to head toward the light.

    He found that it was easy to either walk on the ridge lines of the dunes, or to walk in between the swells of the dunes.  After falling many times, he decided to take the slightly longer path of walking in between the dunes.

    Many hours later, and many thoughts of the trip, Gabin and what had transpired he finally got close enough to get some recon on the area.

    He found it was easy to either walk on the ridge lines of the dunes or between the swells. After falling many times, he decided to take the slightly longer path between the dunes.

    Many hours and many thoughts later¡ªabout the trip, Gabin, and what had transpired¡ªhe finally got close enough to recon the area. With Jeebz''s help, he saw a small band of about twelve people sitting around the fire, singing something that at least had a melody.

    I don''t see any weapons. Then he saw the glint of steel. Never mind, I see some kind of blade. What records do we have on the prisoners on a PP?

    Not much, it''s mostly confidential. They come here for treason and are sentenced for many lifetimes.

    Jeb thought for a bit and then asked his next question.

    What records are there of people leaving a PP?

    None.

    Great.

 Chapter Five: Desert Encounter

    Jeb cautiously approached the flickering campfire, his senses on high alert. The figures around the fire were engaged in conversation, their voices low and tense. He kept to the shadows, using the uneven terrain of the dunes to stay out of sight. As he drew closer, the smell of smoke and charred meat filled the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and sand.

    His footsteps were almost silent, but the desert betrayed him. A sudden crunch of sand under his boot alerted the group. Twelve heads turned in unison, their eyes narrowing. Weapons were drawn in an instant¡ªlong blades glinting in the firelight, the dull gleam of makeshift clubs, and the sharp edges of spears.

    Jeb raised his hands, trying to convey that he meant no harm. But the look in their eyes told him that words would not suffice. These were men hardened by survival, suspicious of any outsider.

    One of them, a tall man with dark skin and piercing eyes, stepped forward, a massive blade in hand. The others formed a tight circle around Jeb, cutting off any chance of escape. The leader barked something in a harsh, guttural language.

    What language is that? Jeb thought to Jeebz.

    I am still trying to translate it. I''ll need to see and hear more of what he says and does to fully translate it, Jeebz replied.

    The tension was palpable. Jeb knew he had to act quickly. He could either fight his way out or try to earn their trust. He decided on the latter, lowering himself to one knee in a gesture of submission. The leader''s eyes flickered with curiosity but did not lower his weapon.

    As the men closed in, Jeb felt a strange sensation¡ªa spark of interest, a challenge. It had been too long since he felt anything other than the monotony of his existence. The leader gestured to Jeb''s sword, indicating that he should place it on the ground. Jeb complied, unbuckling his belt and setting the blade down carefully.

    The circle tightened, twelve men with weathered faces and wary eyes, all watching his every move. Some were draped in rough leathers, others in tattered wools, but all shared the same hardened look of those who had seen too much. Jeb''s mind raced as he tried to think of a way to communicate, to bridge the gap between him and these strangers. The leader spoke again, and this time, Jeebz began to piece together the words.

    Translation is broken still, but he is indicating silence, Jeebz noted.

    Jeb nodded slightly, showing he understood. The leader seemed to appreciate the gesture, though his grip on the blade remained firm. Jeb had no choice but to play along, hoping that his actions would speak louder than words.

    The men all started talking, which brought Jeb''s attention back to the group. One man raised his hand to silence the group.

    Anything on that language yet?

    Translation is broken still, but he is indicating silence. Jeebz loved to point out the obvious.

    Jeb looked at the man with the raised hand. Obviously, this was the authority here. A short man with solid, large muscles. He had two blades, one on his back and a shorter one on his hip. He held a large curved stick with some kind of string from tip to tip in his hand, which he used as a walking stick. Wooden shafts stuck up over his other shoulder. This man had seen combat and expected it at any time.

    Jeb slowly rose up again, taller than all of them. He didn''t lose eye contact.

    Jeebz, I need that translation.

    It is compiling, Jeb. Just another few minutes. But Jeb had seconds. Things were going to get messy really fast unless he sorted it out now.

    Stepping forward to the leader, Jeb knelt down in one motion, bowed his head, and then stood up and returned to where he had been. The motion was fast enough to catch them off guard. On his return, they all drew their weapons, save for the leader with curious eyes.

    It had been a swordsman salute he used from his home world. It was a salute to someone who had shown honor. Hopefully, the sentiment would convey itself.

    It did. The man started to laugh, and the others slowly put their weapons down, looking at each other cautiously. Their swords were not sheathed, just not pointing at Jeb.

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    The leader slowly stopped laughing and then waved at Jeb''s blade, uttering something to the air. The men sheathed their weapons and kicked his sword back over to him.

    I have the translation now.

    About time! Install it.

    He could feel a small, tiny amount of voltage pass through his brain, which was an odd sensation. His vision got hazy. Then he heard a whirring noise in his mind from Jeebz. It was a high-frequency sound signal within his skull. A few seconds later, and one headache gained, it was done.

    Jeb cautiously picked up his sword. The leader was looking at him again. Putting his attention back on his body, he noticed he was sweating and his face felt strained, as though the muscles were taut. More sensations came from the body, more pain than just his head hurting. His body was tight and rigid. The electricity had an effect on this body. That was odd. Dolls didn¡¯t particularly feel pain, just pressures from sensors and other perceptions. Pain was somewhat new. And a Sac seemed to have all kinds of sensations, with pain being the least usable one.

    ¡°Hello, I am Jeb.¡± He looked back at the leader. The language, so far compiled, had been implanted into Jeb''s mind. Though the physical reaction in his body was odd, he still got the communication. Normally there is no brain, directly to the mind of a being, which was separate from the being itself.

    The leader replied. ¡°I am Kevo. And what are you doing out in the desert all alone?¡±

    ¡°I seem to have gotten lost.¡± He smiled at Kevo.

    ¡°Ha! Lost! I''ll say. This is one hell of a place to get lost. You have nearly fifty miles to the nearest village, in that direction.¡± He pointed in a direction that Jeb had not been going in.

    ¡°And that way?¡± Jeb pointed in the general direction he had been going in.

    ¡°Nothing! Ha! Not at least for two hundred miles. You would be dead by the time you got there.¡± Kevo started to head back to the fire. Jeb followed.

    ¡°Tell me, Jeb. Where do you come from?¡± Kevo continued. The others did not talk until they started to sit down, and even then, quietly and with each other.

    ¡°Oh, many miles from here.¡± Only way he could put it without putting it correctly.

    ¡°Your clothes,¡± Kevo indicated Jeb''s odd clothing. A skin-tight jumpsuit made of material that this planet would not have access to. ¡°I have not seen that type of clothing.¡±

    In the middle of the story everyone seemed to be listening. Near the end of the story, they all were at least chuckling. They made it to the fire and Jeb sat next to the leader.

    Two men sitting across from Jeb were clearly staring at his sword.

    Kevo noticed the attention.  ¡°Don''t worry about them.  They like swords.  Yours is very unique.  I heard them say it''s the lightest one they have ever held.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah.  My uncle was a blacksmith.  He crafted this one for my father.  But he never liked it.  So, he gave it to me.  The village said he was one of the best.  I''ve never really used it.¡±  Jeb hoped the lie came off as believable.

    Kevo seemed to take no notice, though did ask to inspect it.

    ¡°Sure, of course.¡±  Handing him the hilt first, along with the rest of the scabbard.

    The man drew the blade.  He seemed to be quite surprised.  ¡°It is light!¡±  Kevo stood up and swung the blade about in a few arcs.  From the controlled motions it showed that he knew something about a blade.

    Handing the blade and sheath back to Jeb a few moments later he spoke to Jeb.  ¡°Be careful with a blade like that.  Around these parts, only two people have nice blades of that caliber.  Blades-men, and dead-men.  I would suggest you learn it quickly, or get rid of it.  You could get a fortune for that.¡±  Kevo picked up his metal cup and drank from it.

    Putting the blade back Jeb continued the conversation.  ¡°What is the nearest city like?¡±

    ¡°It''s a small city.  Maybe a few hundred people.  It''s mostly a pottery town.  They make clay and glass.¡±  Kevo sat back on his bedding which was still rolled up.  ¡°About fifty miles further is a city.  It''s maybe a few thousand people.  Mostly drunkards and mercenaries.¡±

    ¡°And where do you come from?¡±

    ¡°Ha!¡±  Jeb looked around and noticed that all of them had weapons, and all of them were drinking.

    ¡°I see.  Well.  Do you know where I could get my hands on some maps?¡±

    Kevo seemed to be confused by this.  ¡°Maps?¡±  He scratched his head.  ¡°Hey, Jeddy.  Maps?¡±

    After a few moments Jeddy answered.  ¡°I think the King might have one.  But good luck seeing it.¡±

    Kevo shrugged.  ¡°Most of us don''t need maps.  Either you go in a direction that you are familiar with, or you have a guide.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s is this king?¡±  Jeb asked.

    ¡°Bah.  He is no king.¡±  Kevo began to speak slightly lower and looking about him as though the king were right there.  ¡°Though, he does pay well.  It''s said he has a gold mine.  And slaves mining it.¡±

    ¡°What would he need mercenaries for though?¡±

    Kevo scrunched his face as though the question were obvious.  Though the look on Jeb''s face indicated it was an honest question.  ¡°Well, to protect the gold, of course.¡±

    ¡°But you said that it''s a rumor that he has a gold mine.¡±

    ¡°No.  Not many would know something like that.¡±  He leaned back on his bedding again and closed his eyes.  ¡°But it''s late, and it''s time to sleep.  We have one hundred miles to cover in the next several days. And with the odd sand storm that occurred today, we have been delayed several hours.¡±

    The sand storm, the one that he caused.

    Jeb leaned back and moved a mound of sand under his head.  The suit would keep him mostly warm, and the fire would handle the rest.

    Jeebz.  Power down and charge.

    Are you sure, Jeb?  With company like this?

    That''s the point, I may need you tomorrow.  Jeebz was now was powered off of Jeb''s electro-kinetic motion.  Sleeping would drain Jeb''s body and the computer would power off.

    After some time, the exhaustion kicked in and he soon found himself sleeping.

 Chapter Six: Escaping the Noose

    The sun shone intensely over the horizon the next morning. Immediately, the air began to warm. The sunlight was bright on Jeb''s skin.

    He should never have let Jeebz sleep. Losing his sword alone was hurting his pride. He was nine thousand years old, and these pesky Sacs had gotten the better of him.

    The ropes dug into his skin the more he resisted them. His now bare body ached from being pulled around and knocked about. This pain was debilitating in a Sac like this.

    As the sun shone on Jeb, Jeebz powered up. After a few seconds, Jeebz was aware of what Jeb was aware of.

    I don''t think I should power down again in groups like that one.

    That''s probably a good new policy to have. Within six hours, you''ll be dead with no suit or shade. We need to get out of this now.

    ¡°You think?¡± Jeb was annoyed. He looked at his current situation. He was tied from his neck to his feet, which then connected to his hands, bound behind his back and tied around his waist, knotted in the front. He lay on his side, facing the rising sun. He had nothing on him.

    Test the ropes, Jeebz. Can you tell what strength it''s going to take to break them with a strength test?

    I can come up with an estimate, but no exactness. We don''t know the exact material of this rope.

    Let''s get an idea though. Jeb began to pull on the ropes with his feet, neck, and arms. The strain nearly made him black out from the rope around his neck. It was rigged to choke him out if he fought it.

    Damn it! Well, they are criminals here. Goes to show that Gabin was a criminal himself.

    Fair estimation.

    Well, what do we have here for the strength of the rope and chances of breaking it?

    The rope seems to be made out of some kind of animal hide, based on the sounds it made during stretching. Definitely biological in origin, though long dead. Based on its stretching, sounds, and how hard you pulled, breaking it will not work.

    Jeb thought for a bit. He could see Kevo''s face as they skewered him in his sleep. It was what woke him up. They had repeatedly stabbed him until his body only shook from leftover spasms. His eyes were glazed over.

    Jeb had tried to jump to his aid, but it seemed all of them were in on it. Or at least being passive and letting it happen.

    The ones doing the skewering were the two who had been eyeing Jeb''s sword. They had told Jeb, ¡°We''re going to let you have a chance at life. You bought this chance with your sword. Consider us even then?¡± The man laughed and walked away as Jeb fought his bonds.

    Kevo''s body lay three paces away from him. The blood-soaked sand had dried up all of his blood. It didn''t belong to Kevo anymore; it belonged to the dunes of this prison.

    The thought of death was odd to him. Jeb had gone through countless Transferences before. It made ''death''... obsolete. Even criminals were not sentenced to death. Or were they? He did not know.

    Looking at Kevo, he noticed something. Now in the daylight, Kevo had a small boot dagger. They had missed it when they rummaged him.

    Kevo¡¯s boot. It has a dagger in it. I just need to get to it.

    Don¡¯t pull too hard for too long. These Sacs can¡¯t take oxygen deprivation for too long, Jeebz warned.

    Three paces away was not far, but the stink had grown strong.

    Wiggling, rolling, and inching his way over to Kevo, he finally got to the boot. He flipped over, painfully and nearly choking himself out, got his hands on the blade, and began to saw at any ropes he could reach.

    SNAP! The ropes came free, and Jeb slowly stretched out. His muscles were tense and tight. When he got up, he did many more stretches, swinging his arms around his body as though loose ropes as he spun his torso. He felt his spine pop from bottom to top.

    Looking down at Kevo, he realized he had grown somewhat fond of this criminal. It was not right what had happened to him.

    ¡°I hope you don''t mind. But I have to take some stuff off of you.¡± He started with the boots and pants. The shirt was too torn up with holes to wear, but he rubbed it into the sand and turned it into some kind of wrap for his head. The blood didn¡¯t drip.

    The dagger he put back into his boot. Besides that, Kevo had been stripped bare. Including a small leather pouch of what looked to be metal discs.

    Coins. Primitive cultures use precious metals as currency. Jeebz commented upon Jeb¡¯s curiosity looking into the small bag.

    Looking back down at Kevo, Jeb got a strange sensation. A sensation that something was right. Then fear struck through Jeb like lightning through a copper rod. Though, looking around, he knew that this fear was not his.

    A dizziness swept over him and dropped to his knees. Closing his eyes, he got the image of a tunnel with a white light at the end of it. For some reason, this tunnel or white light was causing fear for someone.

    And just as soon as it was there, it was gone. Jeb opened his eyes and shook his head slightly in wonder.

    Everyone was empathic to some degree. You normally could tell someone¡¯s mood just by being near them. But Jeb wasn''t near anyone. He was pretty sure Kevo didn¡¯t count. Though he didn''t know the dynamics of death for someone without Transference. He was never told, and he never asked.

    Looking down at Kevo, he knew he had already made up his mind about what he was going to do. He could see tracks that led off. He already knew where they had been planning to go, which led to the town of mercenary town.

    Jeb, break down the time measurements for this planet. Jeb asked as he walked at a strong pace.

    This planet is roughly eight-thousand miles in diameter, 24,000 miles in circumference. Rotational speed is approximately 1,000 miles per hour¡­

    Giving it a 24-hour day and night, Jeb broke in.

    Approximately. At the equator. Further north, as we are, the length of the day is dependent upon the planet''s current location in its orbit around the star, and the tilt.

    Do not forget that this planet has an elliptical orbit which causes changes in the length of daylight and temperature. Jeb nodded in acknowledgment.

    Jeebz, keep a clock running at all times on this. Jeebz acknowledged that it would be done.

    Jeb began to jog, alternating back and forth between jogging and walking. He couldn''t be too far behind them. It had been about two hours since the whole coup had happened before Jeebz had woken up. So maybe three hours. If he jogged half the time, he figured he''d catch up with them in about an hour and a half.

    After transitioning between jogging and walking three times and about one hour later, Jeb came across some noise. There was a soft whisper of motion to his right, almost as though something was being pulled or stretched. A pointy stick flew by his ear. If he¡¯d been standing still it would have gone through his Sac¡¯s head.

    Jeb dropped to the ground and rolled as best he could on the sand. He was going down a dune, and it turned into a continuous roll. Mid-roll, he kicked off the ground and caught air better. This gave him time to orient himself in space. Forcing another roll in the air gave him the momentum and control to continue running down the hill.

    It also gave him a chance to see where that primitive projectile had come from. There! Two men, one with a primitive bow with an arrow knocked, the other with a sword out. Both were running after him, trying not to fall down the same way as he.

    The man fired again with his arrow. Again, he missed. This time wildly. Jeb changed his course and his speed. The next arrow missed as well. No more arrows came, just them running. Hopefully, they were out of arrows.

    Jeb got to the base of the dune and ran along the bottom portion. Looking over his shoulder, they both had their swords out. The bow was on the ground up the dune. Jeb stopped and waited for them, giving him a chance to catch his breath.

    The two men split, planning to take Jeb from two angles. This was fine. He stood there calmly, waiting, breathing. Jeb felt his heart rate increase slightly. His mind operating the body and controlling the adrenal glands. He could feel the air pressure on his skin, the heat from the sun, and the dry air in his lungs.

    Jeb¡¯s mind began to speed up with the assistance of Jeebz, the result was that time began to perceivably slow in the physical universe around him.

    The two men struck simultaneously. One a large angular swing with the sword, the other a horizontal slash.

    Jeb twisted toward and under the horizontal slash. His speed caught the men off guard. Jeb felt as though he were dancing, now behind the attacker, he twisted, striking the man in the center of his spine with a fist. The bone tried to resist; it failed. This man would not walk again. He crumpled there, screaming something about his legs.

    The next man leapt over the cripple with a downward sweep of his blade, crazed eyes, and a slobbering mouth. Jeb sidestepped casually, and as the man¡¯s legs began to make purchase on the earth once more, Jeb kicked the assailant''s left knee in with a low left side kick, pivoting Jeb¡¯s right elbow found its mark¡ªthe temple of his victim. To Jeb, it had all been one motion.

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    Jeb went to the wheezing cripple. Easing his way over, the man began to cry that he was sorry. Jeb broke his neck. They were criminals.

    Since there had been no blood, he found the clothes that fit him best. Took their blades, drank their water, and packed their food. When force is used, might is right.

    Jeb felt good, but he still needed to get his sword back.

    ¡°Two down. Nine to go,¡± he spoke out loud. Jeebz acknowledged that that was accurate.

    A few hours later, Jeb stood before the last of the mercenary band. They were a few miles out of town, and one man had taken them down, one or two at a time.

    The last two, one with his sword and the other with his clothes, were both kneeling on the ground before him.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Please forgive us. We just want to eat and feed our families.¡±

    He¡¯s sterile. You can tell by the colors in the whites of his eyes. Jeebz was always one for straight observation. Looking was always best. Listening was always worst.

    ¡°I believe you have something of mine.¡± Jeb was calm. But for some reason, a mental image of Kevo kept popping into his mind, being repeatedly stuck with blades.

    The man on the right removed the belt holding the prized weapon and placed it delicately at Jeb¡¯s feet.

    ¡°And?¡± Jeb looked at the other man who immediately began to disrobe his clothes.

    Jeb had to make a choice. Either execute this man who had surrendered, or let him go. He didn¡¯t have time to be a babysitter until he got to some policing authority. He didn¡¯t know if there was one.

    Both execution and letting the guy go were simple.

    Why am I even worrying about this? He asked Jeebz.

    I have no programmed response. I could recite some psychological breakdown. Jeebz offered.

    No, no. I don¡¯t that psychobabble bouncing around in my head. Last time you did that I couldn¡¯t think for a month. Jeb replied.

    Jeb in a blur of motion simply lopped the guys head off. Quick, nearly painless. Him being on a mission, as well as him not wanting rumors going around, it was the only solution he could think of. Anything else would have produced potential liability.

    With that handled, he disrobed quickly and put his atmo suit back on. Immediately, he began to cool down, temperature now regulated. How good it felt was strange. Pleasure being associated with temperature.

    Well, that¡¯s done. Now the town? Jeb asked Jeebz.

    Seems like as good a plan as any, Jeebz replied.

    A few miles and an hour or two later, he found himself walking among many small huts, mostly made of some kind of clay, domed with archways and clay steps.

    The people seemed to carry pottery and strips of cloth, a few animals tied to their master. One was a small, round, fluffy thing with a reddish beak and feathers all over, and two legs. Another animal with four legs, small with some kind of orange and white fur, its face having long hairs sticking out from the sides of its bestial mouth. Some larger four-legged animals with a tail as well but with long snouts.

    For a village of only a few hundred, it sure did seem like people were busy here! Music in the distance drew him to a small building with openings for windows. Tables inside where a few people sat and a man and a woman were singing.

    Jeb walked the dirt roads for a while. People eyed him and gave him birth. He guessed it was his clothing, and possibly his sword.

    Finally, Jeb heard a bit of a racket at the end of one of the roads. It was a tavern made clear by the markings of mugs on either side of the doorway.

    Before he could get to the front of the establishment a man was thrown through one of the open windows, landing hard on his back and shoulder. ¡°And stay out!¡± came a deep voice from within.

    The man groaned as he eased himself into a sitting position, holding his shoulder.

    Jeb stepped past the man and entered the building. Inside were several tables, a bar in the back. At the tables were twenty men, laughing and drinking. The laughing and drinking slowed to a halt as the door closed behind him, drawing their attention to the newcomer.

    Finding a seat at the window the man had been tossed out of he sat down and leaned against the back of the chair. His body seemed to be thankful for the respite.

    After a few moments a large man came up to the table, wiping his hands on a cloth tied to his belt. ¡°What can I get you?¡±

    Jeb¡¯s Sac was starving. ¡°I¡¯ll have some food and water.¡±

    The man sighed. ¡°No water here, just ale.¡±

    We are pretty far from any other areas, and we are not close to any fresh water from my limited scans. Jeebz included sidelntly into the conversation.

    ¡°A pint of ale, and whatever meats you got.¡±

    ¡°You got coin, stranger?¡± The barkeep asked.

    Jeb nodded. ¡°Some.¡± He wasn¡¯t sure how much he had, and what the exchange rate for supplies and other needs.

    The men had began talking, but it was not as boisterous as it had been. Looking out the window the man tossed had gotten up and limped out of sight.

    The barkeep brought out the ale first and then soon after brought the food.

    ¡°Who was that man tossed out?¡± Jeb asked as the barkeep put the plate on the table.

    The barkeep shrugged. ¡°Not sure.¡±

    ¡°What did he do to get removed? I¡¯m assuming it was something criminal since he used an alternative means of exiting the premises.¡± Jeb asked.

    The barkeep smiled. ¡°Yeah, people sometimes use the window, I stopped fixing it.¡± He looked around the room. ¡°Non mercenaries are not liked here. This may be a pottery town, on the outside, but¡­¡± He took in Jeb¡¯s outfit and sword. ¡°There¡¯s more traded here than just pottery. Best not be sniffing around.¡±

    Jeb nodded his understanding and quietly ate.

    After some time he paid the barkeep, the exchange rate didn¡¯t seem to lighten his purse much, a few coppers, which he had plenty of.

    As he left, he heard a bunch of chairs scrape the floor.

    Heart rates are high. Anticipation. Jeebz notified Jeb.

    Outside Jeb looked around but there was no quick route away. Whatever this was, was going to be handled in the street, now.

    The men began to quickly poor out of the tavern, and slowed as they realized Jeb was standing there, waiting. He was soon encircled with a large man pushing his way through a few men in his front.

    The man was built like a large tree, huge shoulders and nearly six and a half feet tall. His legs looked as though they grew from the dirt. He had a sword on his back and leather straps crossing his chest with various knives held in place with sheaths.

    ¡°Nice sword, stranger.¡± The man said, his eyes fixated on Jeb¡¯s face.

    So, it was the sword they wanted. Another band of misfits and his sword. Kevo had been right.

    ¡°This?¡± He touched the hilt over his shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s a toy my uncle made. Made from tin.¡±

    The large man smiled. ¡°Then you wouldn¡¯t mind me taking it. It¡¯s just a toy, not worth anything.¡±

    Shit. Jeb said.

    Agreed. Jeebz said.

    The large man lunged at Jeb, surprising him for his speed. A Sac shouldn¡¯t have that kind of speed, not in a prisoner Sac.

    But Jeb was faster, and he didn¡¯t have a prisoner Sac. He moved out of the way, placing himself facing the moving tree in front of himself, to the trees right. Jeb¡¯s hand had his wrist and was about to strike the mans reaching arm in the elbow. But it didn¡¯t work, the man pivoted, pulling a dagger and attempted to stab Jeb through his gripping wrist. Jeb had to release to move it in time.

    The man squinted his eyes in a scowl at Jeb. ¡°Who are you?¡± He asked Jeb. Jeb glanced around with his eyes, the others ha their swords out but did not move.

    ¡°I¡¯m Jeb.¡± He said. ¡°And you are?¡± But the man lunged again, this time drawing his blade and attack him in a series of strikes. Jeb dodged and weaved through the strikes. After several seconds the entire circle of people had shifted nearly thirty feet in a mad hustle to keep the men within itself.

    ¡°Enough!¡± Jeb yelled out. ¡°That is not how you earn the sword.¡±

    The man stopped, blinking at Jeb.

    ¡°This sword must be earned. It¡¯s a simple ritual, and quite fast. Even if you were to beat me in combat, the sword would¡­ be cursed.¡±

    What are you talking about? Jeebz asked.

    It¡¯s not a curse, but the tech in the sword would not allow it to be used by anyone other than myself. You know this. It¡¯ll just be dull. Nothing better than a stick. Jeb answered back.

    ¡°What is the ritual?¡± The man said with a smile.

    ¡°You must claim how many moves it takes to incapacitate the current owner-¡° Jeb was cut off.

    ¡°Four!¡± The man said. His green eyes burned in the daylight.

    ¡°Are you sure? I think I just proved that four is unlikely.¡± Jeb said carefully.

    Something about those eyes! Jeb said to Jeebz.

    Nothing in my database, but much of my data has been purged. Jeebz said.

    ¡°Four it is then. Sheath your blade.¡± The man did so. A few in the crowd yelled their disagreement, but the man stilled them all with a hand. His eyes never left Jeb¡¯s.

    Standing before each other, a few paces apart, the world seemed to vanish. The tree exploded into motion, his blade out in a blur. Jeb drew his own blade in defense. But it was too much. He wasn¡¯t ready for it. The prisoner was like an invisible wind of death. One, Two, Three, Four.

    Jeb saw the hilt of the mans blade meet his body. HE¡¯d been impaled on his left side, his atmo suit ruined. His blade lie ten feet away. It had been so fast he couldn¡¯t remember how it¡¯d happened.

    Nine thousand years of training, and a prison grade meat Sac had bested him.

    Wincing , Jeb asked, ¡°What is your name?¡± The man had stepped to the sword on the ground and picked it up.

    He pulled the blade free, he could see the mans eyes in the reflection of the perfect metal. ¡°Kendoson Brakta¡± he whispered.

    Jeb¡¯s blaster was in his hand, the man said his name as he pulled the trigger. The insides of his head met daylight.

    The men were silent. They didn¡¯t know what had happened. The only sound being that of Kendoson¡¯s body hitting the ground. No one moved.

    Damage report. Jeb told Jeebz.

    No major organs hit. But you¡¯ll need to get it removed as soon as possible. Then I can create the hormones and white blood cells to clog the injured areas. Jeebz answered.

    Three men lunged at Jeb, three trigger pulls and their chest offal became susceptible to sunburns.

    Jeb limped over to Kendoson and took his sword. He knew those eyes now. He recognized that green fire. Kendoson Brakta had been his sword master, three thousand years ago.

    The circle silently parted as he walked away, blaster in hand, sword sheathed.

    I suppose you have no notes on Kendoson. Jeb said to Jeebz.

    Correct.

    As he limped away he heard a commotion and someone yelling.

    What are they saying? He asked Jeebz.

    Something about a magician. It appears they are reporting you. Jeebz answered.

    Jeb looked back to see a few men facing his direction. One of them pointing at the dead men on the ground and then at Jeb.

    Shit. Jeb took a corner. He couldn¡¯t run with this sword in his belly. He was bleeding.

    As he walked through the alley he heard a noise ahead of him, behind some barrels. He stopped and looked behind him. Not here yet. He may have some time before they get the courage to attack him. Probably with bows.

    ¡°Come on out.¡± Jeb said. The pain was starting to increase now that his endorphins were waning.

    A man, the man, who¡¯d been tossed out the window, slowly came out. He looked at Jeb and then at the sword hilt. Jeb now was leaning on the wall.

    ¡°I could use a little help.¡± Jeb said to the man. He didn¡¯t move though, the man seemed to be deciding if he was going to run or stay and help.

    ¡°You killed Braka?¡± He asked cautiously.

    Jeb nodded that it was him.

    Jeb, you need the sword out for me to begin the regeneration, it won¡¯t heal with it in. Jeebz told him. If you don¡¯t get it out soon, you will bleed to death.

    The man stepped forward. ¡°How did you do it from so far away. You had no bow or crossbow. And the holes you left in them. Like they¡¯d been burned.¡±

    ¡°If you help me with this sword, I¡¯ll tell you all about it. But right now, I need the sword out so I can begin healing.¡± Jeb replied. He realized that it probably sounded fanciful to that man, being run through with a sword and all. ¡°I don¡¯t think it hit anything vital. But if I don¡¯t get it out, I¡¯ll bleed out.¡±

    Finally, slowly, the man came over. Jeb finally paid attention and could see this man up close. He had a bald head and an earing in his left ear. His eyes were black, and he wore loose fitting white clothing, with a medallion hanging around his neck.

    ¡°What do you need me to do?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to pull it out. I¡¯ll tell you when.¡± Jeb said.

    Jeebz, I¡¯m going to need something for the pain.

    I can only produce a certain amount of endorphin. But some of the shots you got from the ship help with pain.

    Jeb pulled a pouch out and opened it. His head was starting to get fuzzy. Finding the right syringe he plunged it into the other side of his abdomen. The sensation of fire spread and then soon the pain began to subside.

    Okay, whatever you got. He¡¯s going to pull it out now. He told Jeebz.

    Jeb¡¯s heart began to race again, it was difficult and his vision started to twirl. He found himself on his knees.

    ¡°Go ahead. As straight as you can.¡± He told the man.

    The man grabbed the hilt with one hand, and Jeb¡¯s shoulder with the other. With a nod from Jeb he pulled the blade out as straight as he could.

    It was everything he could do just to keep his muscles from tightening around the blade. He could feel it slither its way out.

    Once free the man tossed it on the ground and quickly caught Jeb.

 Chapter Seven: The Gates

    Jeb woke by a fire several days later. Raul had convinced the rabble that he¡¯d seen Jeb run off after he saw the strange man pulling the blade from his own torso. Considering they¡¯d just accused him of vile magic, they readily accepted the lie.

    Raul had waited until night and carried Jeb several miles away to a tiny brook between two hills, further north, away from the dunes. Raul cleaned the wound, front and back, as best he could. But that was all he could do.

    Two days later, Jeb found himself standing on the last dune looking down at a white city, rubbing his pink scar with a thumb. The tall walls guarded several larger buildings in the center. The buildings were white as well, domed with spires in various locations, all trimmed in gold. Surrounding the center buildings were thousands of smaller buildings, all different shapes and sizes.

    It was heart-stopping. It was hard to breathe.

    This was not what Jeb expected of a city. He expected a few shacks thrown together. It was the architecture that caught his full attention. Of the many worlds he had been to over the last nine thousand years, he had never seen anything like it before. There was nothing perfect about it, but somehow the beauty of it was shocking.

    Jeb was only familiar with block buildings. They were all the same size, and the streets were always numbered based on the direction towards or away from the North and South Pole, corresponding with the longitude and latitude. Everything was always the same: only a small handful of clothing designs based on profession, and limited options for ships, vehicles, and equipment.

    This was nothing like home. This was chaos! And it was exhilarating!

    Something resonated deep within him, in his soul. Something he¡¯d not felt. A place from outside time. He could feel it. His ability to empathize was strong here. He could not feel the people here, for they were too weak of mind to emanate emotion strongly, though the emanation from this one city was almost too much. His body began to tremble from the amount of emotion it was experiencing.

    Jeb, your body¡¯s adrenals need to calm down. It¡¯s like you are about to enter combat.

    Then calm them, Jeb replied.

    Soon, his body was calmer, but he still felt the joy that a body, Sac or Doll, could experience.

    Turning to Raul, he attempted to remove the scene from his mind; it was futile. "I thought you said this was a small city?"

    Raul laughed. "You really are from a small village. This is a small city, my friend. And a horrible one at that. Four days'' travel to the north, and you''ll see a city that will dwarf this one. That, I promise you."

    Jeb had the sudden urge to go and see for himself. He had to check himself from moving. Looking back at the small town, he began to think of why he was here again.

    Jeebz caught the loose thought. A map, to locate any hidden bases here.

    Right.

    This city is amazing.

    It looks broken to me. Jeebz was obviously analyzing the structure''s integrity, and predicting if it would collapse or not, but no estimates were given forth yet.

    Jeb refocused his mind and continued down the dune. The wound in his side had healed. He¡¯d been lightheaded, and they¡¯d had to take it slow. Raul was mesmerized by the quick healing. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d survive, Mr. Jeb,¡± Raul had said.

    But Raul had stayed.

    Stepping off the last grade of the dune onto flat sandstone, he began to analyze the structures as he walked closer and closer. He was about a thousand feet from the walls. Men were on the corners holding bows. Grooves above some kind of lip were below large metal bowls with some kind of steam coming from the top. As he got closer, he walked past long spikes coming out of the ground, pointing away from the city.

    Fortifications of some sort. Seems to be boiling oil from the level of distortion from the heat on top of the pots. Under the lips of the groove is a form of splitter that separates the oil into a spray of sorts.

    The spikes hold back charges of amassed armies while the bowmen go at range. The walls are weak, but for the level of technology and what is available here, it would hold against a siege for some time... Jeebz rattled on and on about the tactics and numbers.

    It was still the design and ingenuity that awed Jeb. He couldn''t wrap his head around it. Where was this type of design in Core Prime?

    These are disapproved designs. They are not structurally perfect and therefore are banned. Jeebz was catching yet another one of Jeb''s thoughts.

    As they rounded around and headed for a pathway to one of the main gates, Raul stepped closer to Jeb. "They will want to identify you and tax you for gate use."

    "Tax me? For what? I have no money," Jeb replied.

    "If you have no money, they will not allow you to enter. They do not want poor people to enter. Or, if you state you have been robbed, they will require something of value to enter instead of a tax." He looked at Jeb''s sword. "No doubt, they will want your blade."

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    "They can have it... Once they take it from me." It was more of an automatic response than a calculated statement. It still rang true. Raul began a hearty laugh.

    "I thought you might say that. Here, have some coin. This should cover the tax." Raul handed him Kevo''s coin purse. A slight perception of pleasure came across to Jeb from Raul. Odd, these prisoners.

    Jeb nodded his thanks. "How do I get a meeting with the king or get my hands on a map?"

    Raul got his tax amount ready, one silver coin, in his palm, ready to hand the gate watch. "You would go to the Hall and request a clerk. You may get notified in a week if it has been approved or not."

    Jeb frowned, a week? That''s too long. "Are there guides, or anyone good at map-making around?"

    "Possibly, from what I¡¯ve heard, he hires all the guides and map makers. Or disposes of them. In my opinion, you will not receive permission for the maps." Raul seemed to be certain of himself. Jeb didn''t continue the query.

    ¡°Why would he kill map makers and guides?¡± Jeb asked.

    ¡°Beats me. He¡¯s touchy.¡± Raul looked at Jeb. ¡°Something about gold.¡±

    Possibly to limit those who can find this nebulous gold mine he has, Jeebz offered.

    That makes sense, in a pretty dark way, Jeb acknowledged.

    They made it to the gate, and the tax man stood up from his rickety wooden chair. He had teeth missing, and his sword breaker sat at his hip. It was rusted and seemed to be chipped and broken, just like his teeth.

    "One silver penny or valuable," he yelled out.

    Everyone entering the city paid the man. When Jeb stepped forward to pay him, the guard peered at him up and down as though looking at a very difficult math problem. "And who might you be? Full name and origin!"

    Jeb sighed, thinking fast, and with the help of Jeebz, he came up with an answer of a hundred miles to the west in a small village of maybe twenty people. When the guard spoke out a town name to verify, Jeb readily agreed that that was the village.

    "I thought that village was long gone!" The guard bellowed.

    "It is, as far as I''m concerned." Jeb stated as though he were bored with it.

    "Right, right. Either way, the gate is one silver penny." Jeb finished handing him the penny. The guard gave the order, and the smaller inner door was opened, and they were allowed through.

    Upon stepping through the door, an odor hit Jeb as though a blaster had gone off in his face. A putrid decaying smell. Raul must have seen his face upon passing through the gate. "That''s manure. From pigs!" He laughed. Either way, it was a horrible and powerful smell.

    Jeb walked in further, and the smell, though still there, began to die down. Your body is adjusting to the perception, Jeebz informed him.

    Good!

    They worked their way through a small throng of people, past beggars and hawkers of all kinds, small shops, swords and armor, arrows and whatnot. Most of the shops were based on weapons of some sort. Many eyes seemed to linger on Jeb¡¯s sword.

    "It seems that sword of yours is going to attract quite a bit of attention," Raul mentioned in a loud whisper so as to get over the din of the hammers and yelling.

    "I need to get some leather for it. How much is that in silver here?"

    "Oh, maybe five copper for a cheap wrap."

    Jeb looked at his sword and its scabbard. It was probably the most shiny and sparkly item in the whole city by the look of the city. Yes, he needed something to cover it up before there was an incident.

    Nearby was a small armorer. Considering this was the capital of mercenaries in these parts, Jeb had his pick of stores on this block. He picked the cleanest one he could find.

    ¡°How may I help you?¡± the old man said from behind the counter.

    ¡°I need something to hide my scabbard and hilt. But I need it to be functional too.¡± Jeb looked around, but the store was mostly empty. A few men stood on the other side of the room, looking at weapons mounted on the wall. He placed his sword and scabbard on the countertop.

    The man gasped at it. The engravings on the scabbard were in a different language, mostly composed of triangles, with etchings of swordsmen holding the blade in competition with other masters. The scabbard was of polished metal, a metal that would not be found on Azibo, but polished like silver.

    The hilt was similar, but a synthetic wrap covered up the panels underneath that exposed the workings to a microprocessor. The processor would detect the type of molecular bond through the impact of the first strike. Then it would emit a vibration through the blade to counter that bond, allowing it to cut through much easier. It had no power source at the moment. He hadn¡¯t had one ever. He couldn¡¯t find one, and oddly there was no port or place to be charged or carry a battery.

    He''d taken it to many engineers back in Systems, but no one could figure out how it was powered. But the function they recognized.

    The clerk whistled. ¡°This is beautiful. I¡¯ve never seen the like. Where did you get this?¡± Jeb told him the lie about his uncle being a smith.

    ¡°Well, your uncle is a very talented man.¡± The clerk put the scabbard down and examined the hilt. ¡°That¡¯s not leather. Feels more like a wax. But it doesn¡¯t melt when you hold it?¡± he asked.

    ¡°My thoughts too, but it doesn¡¯t melt.¡± The material helped him hold the blade, keeping his hands from slipping¡ªnano materials.

    ¡°Well, we have some leather we can fashion up for you.¡± The clerk pulled out a string and measured the circumference and length of both the hilt and scabbard. ¡°I can have it ready in about an hour.¡±

    ¡°Do you mind if we wait in here? I keep getting people eying the sword. I¡¯d hate to run into trouble in the city,¡± Jeb said.

    The man nodded and instructed them to sit by the front. There was only one chair, and Raul let Jeb have it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go get some food. I¡¯ll be back soon,¡± Raul said.

    Soon, Raul was back with food for the two of them. Soon after that, Jeb paid the man for the leather wrap for the scabbard. The man used leather strips and deftly wrapped the hilt in a criss-crossed pattern. It felt nice in his hand. Not as good as the nano material, but it was good nonetheless.

    Thanking the clerk, they left the weaponsmith.

    ¡°Did you see any good inns while out?¡± Jeb asked Raul.

    Raul nodded while taking the last bite of his food. He pointed up the road. ¡°I saw a nice place up there. Seemed less busy than others.¡± He looked at Jeb. ¡°Less people means less attention.¡±

    Jeb nodded his agreement, and they began to walk.

    The inn was nice enough, a room with two beds and a window view. He paid for a week, which depleted a few silver from Kevo¡¯s coin purse. He gave the man a silent thanks as he put it back in his pocket.

    ¡°You should get some kind of cloak. Maybe new clothes, too,¡± Raul said as they prepared for bed. ¡°And I¡¯m going to take a bath. I stink, and so do you.¡±

    It dawned on Jeb that he had not bathed since before landing. A Doll didn¡¯t bathe. ¡°I should too then, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°I was quite thankful for the smell of manure when we came in.¡± Raul laughed at his own joke. Jeb smiled.

    The bath was delightful. A few extra coppers got him a few servants to help with the cleaning in the small wooden tub he had to crouch in.

    Once clean, he felt like a new man. The bed was inviting, and soon he found himself lost in sleep.

 Chapter Eight: Swordsmans Arena

    It had been seven days since Jeb arrived in the city where he had killed the previous owner of his sword. The idea that Kendoson had been here on Azibo was strange. What had he done to end up here? Finally, after days of thinking about it, Jeb let it go.

    The day after the fight, he had gone to the Hall to request to see the maps. He¡¯d gotten a quick reply: No.

    Now, he found himself wandering the cobblestone roads with Raul. For some reason, Raul had decided to stick around. They¡¯d made fast friends.

    ¡°Raul, why are you here?¡± Jeb asked. He''d been meaning to ask him this for some time, but didn''t know how to ask without sounding off. Guess a straight question is better than an obtuse one.

    Raul thought for a while, as though going over something in his mind. ¡°When I was a boy, I knew a monk. Everyone knew this monk to be able to see the future, though he would deny that he could.¡± He smiled at the recollection. ¡°He would give people advice and tell them that if they didn''t change their ways, something bad would happen. After a while, people learned to take his advice...¡±

    Rounding a corner, he continued. ¡°He told me once, after I had been in one of my many fights with the village boys, that if I ever wanted to be free, I should follow the man who kills the deadliest man you ever saw with ease.¡± Raul looked at Jeb as though seeing him for the first time. ¡°I have never seen anyone kill a man as easily as you did. And I have not seen as deadly an enemy in my life.¡±

    Jeb nodded in acknowledgment, his mind latching on to pieces of what Raul had said. He was surprised to find out that Azibo had a Seer. Seers were not usually criminals. They were usually used for the purpose of the Core. They were invaluable. And they had one here.

    There are no records of a Seer put on Azibo, Jeebz chimed in. Then again, there are hardly any records.

    Jeb smiled at Raul. ¡°Where is this monk?¡±

    They found themselves on a road filled with carts full of food.

    ¡°Probably still in my village, where I come from.¡± Raul nodded off to the east. ¡°Maybe one hundred days that way.¡±

    ¡°Maybe we should go there. I would like to meet this monk.¡±

    ¡°Maybe so. It has been many years since I have gone there. He was old then. Perhaps he is still with us,¡± Raul ended as they entered the small town.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need supplies to make it one hundred days. A cart would be good, and some horses to pull it. We¡¯ll need two barrels of water and supplies for catching food.¡± Raul looked at Jeb. ¡°We don¡¯t have the coin for that.¡±

    Just then, they passed a post. Nailed to it was an announcement about swordsman competitions. Raul looked at Jeb reading the announcement. ¡°How is it that you pull what you need to you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But here it says one hundred silver to the winner.¡± Jeb looked back at Raul. ¡°You think that would be enough for a long journey?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and then some. I could even get that woman I was fancying at the Inn.¡± Raul laughed.

    Prostitution in Systems was not only common but encouraged. Jeb didn¡¯t partake. Something about hooking the wires up between the two Dolls was strange to him. But he¡¯d never thought about it in a Sac.

    ¡°Well, you can do what you want. But I¡¯d rather not spend coin on that,¡± Jeb said. He tore the paper off the pole and finished the food he¡¯d just purchased.

    ¡°It says the competition is in a few days. I guess I should go register.¡±

    The town buzzed with activity, the cobblestone streets alive with the sounds of merchants shouting their wares and children laughing as they darted between the stalls. Jeb moved through the crowd with Raul at his side, heading toward the large building at the center of the square. The competition hall loomed ahead, its banners depicting crossed swords flapping in the morning breeze.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Inside, the hall was dimly lit, the air thick with anticipation. A line of contestants wound its way through the room, each man eager for his chance at glory. Jeb approached the registration desk, where a bored-looking clerk sat hunched over a ledger.

    "Name?" the clerk asked without looking up.

    "Jeb," he replied, keeping his voice even.

    "Weapon of choice?"

    "Sword."

    The clerk glanced up, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face as he sized up Jeb. He scribbled Jeb''s name onto the parchment. "The competition starts in three days at dawn. Be prepared," he said, his tone dismissive.

    Jeb nodded and stepped away from the desk. Raul joined him, and together they left the hall. The days leading up to the competition were spent in quiet preparation. Jeb practiced with the wooden swords provided, getting accustomed to their weight and balance, though they were far from the quality of his own blade.

    The morning of the competition arrived, and the square had been transformed into an arena. Wooden stands surrounded a large, sandy circle where the battles would take place. Spectators filled the seats, the air buzzing with anticipation.

    Jeb stood among the contestants, calmly assessing the competition. The men around him were of varying sizes and builds, some lean and wiry, others muscular and imposing. Raul stood nearby, offering a silent nod of encouragement. Jeb knew he was more than capable, but he felt a twinge of discomfort from the wound he¡¯d sustained in a previous altercation. He pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

    The first match was called, and two men entered the arena, their wooden swords raised. The clash of wood against wood echoed through the square, punctuated by grunts and cheers from the crowd. One man fell, and the other raised his arms in victory.

    Match after match proceeded, and soon it was Jeb¡¯s turn. He stepped into the arena, his eyes meeting those of his opponent¡ªa burly man with a scar down his cheek. They circled each other, the crowd falling silent in anticipation.

    The signal was given, and Jeb moved with precision. Time seemed to slow, his senses heightened to an almost supernatural degree. He could hear the rustle of the man''s clothing, the quickening of his breath. Every detail stood out in stark clarity.

    His opponent swung with brute force, but Jeb moved with a fluid grace, dodging and parrying each blow. The world narrowed to the circle of the arena and the rhythm of the fight. Jeb''s mind was a blank slate, focused only on the immediate, the present. He saw an opening and struck, his wooden sword connecting with the man¡¯s side. The opponent stumbled, and with a final calculated blow to the chest, he fell to the ground.

    The crowd erupted in cheers, but Jeb barely acknowledged it. He offered his fallen opponent a hand, helping him to his feet before leaving the ring. Raul met him with a nod, a silent acknowledgment of a job well done.

    The day wore on, and Jeb faced opponent after opponent. Each man fell quickly, barely able to keep up with his speed and skill. The matches were almost effortless, save for the occasional twinge of pain that reminded Jeb of his previous wound. He masked it well, showing no signs of discomfort to the onlookers.

    As the final match approached, Jeb found himself facing a lean, wiry man known for his quick reflexes. The crowd was restless, sensing the tension in the air. Jeb stepped into the arena, his eyes fixed on his opponent.

    This time, he decided to play a different game. As the signal was given, Jeb allowed himself to appear strained, extending the battle rather than dispatching his opponent with the first move. He feigned exertion, letting the match unfold in a more dramatic fashion.

    The two combatants circled each other, exchanging blows that seemed to test both skill and endurance. Jeb felt the eyes of the crowd on him, their fascination growing with each passing moment. His opponent fought fiercely, but Jeb controlled the pace, allowing the man to think he had the upper hand.

    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jeb saw an opening. He moved swiftly, disarming his opponent with a calculated strike and knocking him to the ground. The crowd''s roar was deafening as Jeb was declared the champion.

    As his opponent lay on the ground, gasping for breath, Jeb reached out his hand once more, offering assistance. The man looked up, a mixture of defeat and respect in his eyes, before grasping Jeb¡¯s hand and pulling himself up.

    "Well fought," Jeb said quietly, giving the man a nod of respect.

    "Likewise," the man replied, shaking his head as if still processing the swift end of the duel.

    Jeb left the ring, the weight of the victory heavy on his mind. He felt the intensity of the crowd¡¯s gaze, aware that his prowess had not gone unnoticed. It was both a boon and a potential risk, one he would have to navigate carefully.

    The pouch of one hundred silver was placed in his hand, and he accepted it with a nod, already thinking ahead. Raul joined him as they exited the arena, his demeanor as steady as ever.

    "That should do," Raul said, glancing at the pouch.

    Jeb nodded, already thinking about their next steps. "Let''s gather the supplies and head out. We''ve got a long journey ahead of us."

    They spent the rest of the day preparing¡ªacquiring food, water, a sturdy cart, and two strong horses to pull it. As the sun set, they left the town behind, heading east toward Raul¡¯s village and the mysterious monk who might hold the answers Jeb sought. The path ahead was long and uncertain, but with Raul by his side and the resources they had won, Jeb felt ready to face whatever lay ahead.

 Chapter Nine: Assassins Mark

    The road had been tough. They were nearly out of water¡ªboth barrels¡ªand the food had been gone for a few days. Jeb was hungry.

    Rising over a hill, they saw smoke from a fire in the distance. ¡°I hope this is your village,¡± Jeb said.

    Raul squinted and then shook his head. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Well, we can get some food and water,¡± Jeb said.

    Jeebz, how long can a Sac go without food or water? Jeb asked his A.I.

    Food is approximately fourteen to twenty-one days, Jeebz replied. Depending on the starting state of the Sac. Water is less, about ten to twelve days. But the last days of both are torture.

    It took another few hours to reach the village. They parked the cart at an inn and had the stable boy handle the horses. The large beasts had been pleasant enough. He found himself rubbing them down at night after Raul showed him the basics of handling such creatures.

    ¡°Make sure they get whatever they need.¡± They had plenty of coin left over. Considering they¡¯d only spent about half on their supplies, and with no villages since to use any of their coin, they had plenty left.

    Stretching, he went into the inn with Raul, who slumped down at a table. They were both filthy. About two weeks back, they had found a small pond to wash in. But the water was not clean enough to drink.

    Jeb sat down with Raul, but adjusting his sword on his back didn¡¯t work, so he removed it and set it on his lap.

    ¡°Strangers. You all came in on a different road. Nobody comes from that direction anymore,¡± the innkeeper said, a smile on her plump face. ¡°You must be hungry.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯d like a double of whatever you have. And water, if you have it. Otherwise, ale.¡± Raul said, his head buried in his arms on the table.

    ¡°The same,¡± Jeb smiled. ¡°Where can I get water and supplies?¡± Jeb asked the lady before she went back to the kitchen.

    ¡°The general store is closed. Mr. Bode provides the water.¡± She waggled a finger at him. ¡°You don¡¯t wanna get water from the creek. It¡¯ll make you sick. Only get water from Bode or the inn. But we don¡¯t have water right now. Only ale.¡± She smiled, then walked off.

    They ate, Jeb warning Raul not to eat too fast or it would make him sick, and they secured two rooms. ¡°In the morning, we¡¯ll get the supplies,¡± Jeb said. Raul only nodded and was gone into his room next door. Jeb could hear him snoring within minutes through the thin walls.

    In the morning, Jeb made it up to the small sandstone building of Mr. Bode¡¯s and knocked on the wooden door made of planks. He could see through the door, with the wood planks not being straight and small openings between each board at different spots. A child answered.

    ¡°Can I help you, mister?¡± Jeebz translated for him. The accent was slightly different.

    ¡°Yes, I''m in need of water and would like to purchase some. I assume you have water here for sale?¡± He didn''t know if children were treated differently. They certainly looked different. Jeb couldn''t recall ever being a child. Just one day, he had a Doll, and he was ''living.''

    ¡°Come in; I''ll get Father.¡± The boy stepped aside for a moment to let Jeb in and then ran into the back room, where he could hear the tinkering of pots and metal. A few moments later, an older man came out, wiping his hands on his apron.

    ¡°You want water? I got plenty of that.¡± He smiled. ¡°Come on back.¡±

    As Jeb entered the back room, he saw a machine that distilled contaminated water. In fact, he saw many of them of different designs. Jeebz began analyzing them at once, pointing out design flaws, materials, etc.

    Finally, they came to the back of the room, where a large machine with a makeshift smokestack stood.

    ¡°How much water do you want?¡±

    Jeb looked around and saw that there were many water pouches on the walls and a few small barrels on the floor.

    ¡°Well, I''ll be needing about thirty days'' worth for two men or at least enough to get me to the next city heading north.¡±

    Rubbing his head, the man replied, ¡°Thirty days¡¯ worth, that''s a lot of water. I¡¯m assuming you have your own barrels? You¡¯re the ones that came in last evening, am I right?¡± Jeb nodded that he was right. ¡°I don''t know if I even have that much water. If you give me a few days, I can get it, though.¡±

    Jeb nodded his understanding. ¡°How much will that be?¡±

    ¡°It''s five coppers per barrel. But if you buy it all and the barrels, I¡¯ll throw in an extra one for free.¡±

    Jeb was thrown. This man was offering to lower the price if he bought more than one. This was absurd. Why would he do that?

    He decided to ask him. ¡°Why would you do that?¡±

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°Do what?¡±

    ¡°Lower the price if I buy more than one like that.¡±

    The man looked like he''d been hit in the face with a shovel. ¡°I can keep the price the same.¡± He didn''t know if he was asking a question or making a statement.

    Jeb shook his confusion off. ¡°No, no. It¡¯s fine. But I''ll give you what you want.¡± He counted it out in silver and gave it to the man. It seemed, on average, the exchange rate was about twenty coppers to one silver. ¡°How long to fill all the barrels? I probably need new ones. Mine are definitely rough.¡± They¡¯d bought them used, and they already had cracks that leaked some.

    ¡°Oh, I''d say about a week at most.¡± He put the purse away on the shelf nearby.

    ¡°Do you have enough water to fill up my pouches?¡± Jeb indicated his empty water pouches.

    ¡°Sure, give ''em here.¡± He gestured for Jeb to put them on the table next to the large machine.

    There were two large barrels next to the machine. The stiller took the lid off one of them and scooped out a pot full of water. Then he poured it into the side of the machine. Pulling a lever, the machine started to vibrate.

    There is heat being put into the base of it, Jeebz said. The water turns into steam in the bottom pot, where the water sits after being poured in and is boiled. The steam is then collected near the top on the plate above and recollects as water condensation and drips down the side of the top collection plate. See how it''s angled? If the plate was curved more and the top portion rounded off like a bowl, it would collect more, and the smokestack would not be needed. He would just need a bigger collection plate.

    And why did you bring this up, Jeebz?

    It wouldn''t take a week to get your water. Maybe a day, two at most.

    Oh. I see, Jeb said.

    Jeb waited for the process to finish. Near its end, he decided to offer the idea.

    ¡°You know, I''ve seen similar contraptions. One in particular comes to mind. It had a similar design to this, except it had a plate like a bowl at the top¡ªlarge, long, and angled. It was able to work without a smokestack, and it produced three or four times more water.¡±

    The man turned to him with an odd look on his face. ¡°I''ll have to try that out.¡± Jeb couldn''t tell if he was being brushed off or not, so he dropped it.

    He got his water, bid the man farewell for now, and headed out to meet Raul. It had become late afternoon by the time he was eating at the small inn and drinking. He didn''t realize how hungry, tired, and thirsty he still was.

    After another bath and getting his clothes washed, night had come. He decided to check on the horses.

    In the stables, he greeted the stablehand and began rubbing the horses down. They¡¯d been well taken care of. The stablehand bid him farewell, and Jeb was alone with his two friendly beasts.

    He sat down on a bench and let his eyes close for a bit. He was still so exhausted. It had been so hot the past several days.

    It was painful to be woken up so quickly by Jeebz. It was like an alarm going off, every nerve brought to life too fast.

    Jeb opened his eyes to see a shadowed figure standing over him with a black sword coming down toward his chest. With his right hand, he deflected the blade to the left, palm flat on the flat side of the sword. At the same time, his right foot kicked the surprised assassin in the side of the head.

    Jeb scrambled to stand up quickly, but the hay was slippery. He would have to make do.

    Like a ghost, the assassin moved in as though a silent wind carried it forward.

    The next few motions were over in the blink of an eye. But it was over. The assassin lay dead with the sword sticking out of his chest. Jeb was panting, hands propped on his knees. It had not been easy.

    What the hell was that? Jeb asked Jeebz, breathing hard.

    Scanning¡­ The makings of a human, genetically similar. However, there are a couple of differences. Firstly, it does not breathe, having no lungs. Instead, it absorbs oxygen through the skin, and it appears to have some kind of built-in genetic night vision. The shape of the eyes, Jeebz reported.

    And the blade. Make? Design? Jeb queried further.

    Bring it closer, close enough to smell, Jeebz requested. Jeb acquiesced and began handling and smelling the blade. Careful! The edge is poisoned. It¡¯s a dry poison that activates in water, which blood or spit contains. Additionally, the sword is made of a material which this planet would not have access to for many centuries.

    Careful of the edge, he set the blade down and began looking for the scabbard for it. He found it, a slim leather scrip. Everything seemed to be made to be silent. Nothing hard on its person except the actual blades. Jeb was holding a throwing knife, one of several, similar to the material of the sword as well as poisoned.

    Definitely an assassin, Jeebz replied.

    But why? Jeb said both to Jeebz and to no one.

    Raul found Jeb standing over the assassin, a dark silhouette against the dimly lit room. "Jeb, I¡¯m gonna go to bed¡ª" he started, but his voice faltered as he caught sight of the black-clad figure sprawled on the floor. Raul¡¯s eyes widened, and his expression hardened into something like stone.

    "What happened?" Raul asked, his voice tense with disbelief as he approached the corpse. His eyes scanned the scene, lingering on the assassin''s lifeless form. "This cannot be. These ones... they are immortal."

    Jeb wiped sweat from his brow, his breathing heavy as he tried to regain his composure. The adrenaline from the confrontation still coursed through his veins, and his muscles were tense from the exertion. He had barely woken up before being thrust into this unexpected battle.

    "What do you mean, immortal?" Jeb replied, glancing up at Raul with skepticism. "He doesn''t seem that immortal to me."

    Jeb slumped down next to the assassin''s body, his gaze fixed on the mysterious intruder. He began rifling through the assassin¡¯s belongings, his fingers deftly searching for clues. The assassin''s garb was designed for stealth, each piece of clothing tailored to be as silent as the night itself.

    In the assassin''s pockets, Jeb found a handful of gold coins, each tucked into its own individual compartment to prevent any telltale clinking. The coins were unremarkable, yet the meticulousness of their placement hinted at the assassin''s precision and skill.

    As Jeb continued his search, he noticed a small tattoo etched onto the assassin''s forearm. The intricate design depicted a scaled creature, a dragon perhaps, breathing fire onto its hapless enemies. Its eyes were a vivid crimson, and the fangs were stark white against the dark ink¡ªa symbol of some allegiance or a badge of honor among a secretive order.

    Raul crouched beside Jeb, his eyes narrowed in recognition. "That tattoo... it marks him as one of the Serpent''s Sons. They are said to be unbeatable, bound to some dark magic that grants them life beyond death."

    Jeb raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Well, whatever magic they think they have didn¡¯t save him tonight." He stood, still catching his breath, and shook his head. "Immortal or not, he bled like any other man."

    Raul nodded slowly, a mix of awe and caution in his gaze. "It''s not just their resilience. It''s what they stand for¡ªtheir willingness to do anything to achieve their goals. If they¡¯re involved, it means something far bigger is at play."

    Jeb absorbed Raul¡¯s words, the weight of the situation settling over him. The quiet of the room was unsettling, a stark contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded. More than Raul knew.

 Chapter Ten: Forgotten Shadows

    The night air was cool on Jeb¡¯s torso, but he could hardly feel the pleasure of it while digging the hole. The assassin¡¯s body was surprisingly light and rather short for an earthling; it was the digging that was tiring. He was also still exhausted from the combat. This body, though engineered, seemed to have a mind of its own.

    Jeb could have handled all this easily enough on his own, but Raul was determined to be quick, his eyes darting around in the dark as though seeing ghosts projected from his mind.

    Once tossed into the compact hole, the body proved a slight nuisance, landing oddly twisted and falling in on itself.

    ¡°That¡¯s kind of weird,¡± Raul said, scratching his head.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve not seen something bend or twist like that. Are we sure he... it¡¯s dead?¡± Jeb asked. Raul looked at him askance.

    ¡°I would not know,¡± Raul shook his head. ¡°Not many stories of these. Not many to tell them.¡±

    ¡°Well, what are they?¡± Jeb started throwing dirt on the oddly angled body.

    Maybe the back was broken? Maybe its bone structure is different? Jeebz seemed to be thinking of different ideas.

    ¡°What they are is unknown. All that we know are old tales of shadows that moved without sound, shadows that removed your lifeblood and the body drained. Shadows that seemed to be immune to blades and arrows, passing through a dark fog.¡± Raul began helping dump the dirt on the myth.

    ¡°It seems that some of those tales may be a bit exaggerated?¡± Jeb asked. ¡°Who is their master?¡±

    Raul was silent for a while, pondering the legends and myths. ¡°I do not know. But I do know of someone who may know."

    Jeb, we are getting distracted, Jeebz interjected into the conversation.

    We have to know what we are dealing with. Assassins attacking in the middle of the night indicates there is an external force we are unaware of, particularly if we are being specifically targeted, Jeb thought back to Jeebz.

    ¡°And, who would that be?¡± Jeb asked Raul.

    ¡°The monk. The one we are heading to.¡± He looked at Jeb with a curious eye. ¡°You are aware that assassins do not randomly attack? They are given a target by someone.¡±

    ¡°I was just thinking that.¡± Jeb was concerned. If more than one of these assassins came, he didn¡¯t know if he could handle more than one. He shook his head. ¡°But I have no idea who would order an assassin.¡±

    Maybe Gaedon. He did send us here. He¡¯s wanted to be rid of you for a while now, Jeebz offered.

    Yeah, but does he have the intelligence or resources? Probably, he¡¯s an actual officer. But still, I can¡¯t imagine him on a rim world trying to kill me from a distance. This place has no conveniences that Systems has, Jeb considered back to Jeebz.

    Maybe there is something more going on here that is being missed, Jeebz replied.

    Maybe. Maybe I was supposed to be taken by the screens, or even the crash landing. I don¡¯t know.

    Jeb finished throwing the dirt on the body with Raul and hefted the makeshift shovel onto his shoulder, a wooden pole with some kind of scoop at the end.

    ¡°How long until we get to your village, then?¡± Jeb asked Raul.

    Raul rubbed his face, wiping the sweat off, with rivulets dropping from his hand. ¡°Another several weeks if we push hard.¡±

    ¡°Well, I ordered thirty days of water. That should be enough, I¡¯m hoping?¡± Jeb asked.

    The sun would be rising within the hour. Another week here for water and then food. This planet is painfully slow.

    It is a Prison Planet, Jeebz responded. Jeb nodded in agreement.

    Making their way back to the barn, which was about a mile away, Jeb put the shovel back and found the lady out and about, getting ready for the morning chores.

    ¡°Good morning, mistress. Are we able to grab some breakfast?¡± Jeb¡¯s stomach rumbled, and he had heard Raul¡¯s grumbling on the way back.

    She looked him up and down and then pointed with her nose. ¡°Inside, at the table.¡± And then she was back to her morning chores. Jeb nodded his thanks and indicated to Raul for them to get some food.

    After eating¡ªsome fruits and cheese mostly¡ªJeb informed Raul that he was going to the stiller¡¯s to see if he could help at all.

    ¡°And what should I do?¡± asked Raul.

    ¡°See what you can find out about town. See if anyone has passed through lately. I doubt anything useful can be gotten, but who knows.¡± Jeb stood and began heading toward the town.

    The building was the same as it had been the previous day. A small amount of smoke rose from the back; the still was still going. Jeb pushed the front door open while knocking. ¡°Hello? Anyone home?¡± he spoke into the room.

    ¡°In the back!¡± the stiller yelled from somewhere on the property. Looking around, taking standard precautions, Jeb made his way through the small wooden home and out the back door.

    On the back porch, the stiller had a bunch of parts all laid out. ¡°You know, stranger, I was thinking about what you were saying. I think I could build one without too much difficulty.¡± He rubbed his hands on some kind of cloth rag. ¡°I could use your help.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s actually why I came. I¡¯d like to help.¡± Jeebz started rattling off tools he would need, and spotting none of them, gave options for a more ¡®primitive¡¯ setting. ¡°Looking around, I see a few things that can work, and a few things we can make that will help us.¡±

    Jeb got busy, essentially commandeering the entire workshop, with the stiller turning into an assistant. Once all the tools were acquired or made, the parts for the still were needed.

    The handwork felt great. He was building something new, or at least something new for Azibo. He was doing something constructive; the only destruction from his hands was the materials being reforged in the fires, sparks falling away. But what came from those sparks and pounded metal was creation. It was euphoric.

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    Hours went by with Jeebz rattling on in his head, but it seemed like his mind simply flowed: forge, bang, forge, bang! Hiss of cold water, and he saw the metal contract into a circle, with the cuts just so requiring the contracted metal to make his circle.

    In truth, from scratch, it would take a good day or two. But with the size of the still¡ªroughly four times the size of the others¡ªit would be able to produce much more clean water.

    The stiller came back with a plate of food and some water. ¡°You haven¡¯t eaten all day. Thought you might want some food.¡± He put the plate of food down and set the water next to it.

    Jeb looked at the food and then at the sky; it would be dark soon, less than an hour, maybe minutes.

    Twelve minutes exactly, Jeebz replied to his stray thought.

    ¡°Thank you. I lost track of time.¡± As tired as he was, he felt good. Great, actually.

    ¡°That Raul guy, your friend, came by. He said to let you know he¡¯d be at the Inn.¡±

    Jeb looked at the sky again and then down at his work. The pieces were all built; they just needed to be assembled at this point and then sealed. ¡°You got sealant?¡± he asked the stiller.

    He looked at Jeb funny. ¡°Sealant?¡± He was trying the word in his mouth.

    No translation for sealant. It hasn¡¯t been invented yet, no epoxies. There may be wax that can be used as sealant or animal fats, Jeebz chimed in.

    ¡°Yeah, sealant. Like wax or animal fats.¡± He pointed at the still that lay in pieces on the ground. ¡°To make sure it doesn¡¯t leak,¡± Jeb clarified.

    ¡°Oh. Yeah. I got something.¡± He went over to a cupboard and began moving jugs around. In one of them was a full jug of beeswax. ¡°Will this work?¡± He handed it to Jeb.

    This should work. We¡¯ll have to make some adjustments so that when the tank is full, it creates pressure in the right way, so that the seals get tighter, Jeebz reported.

    ¡°Yeah, that should work fine.¡± Jeb began picking up his tools. ¡°I¡¯ll come back in the morning, around the same time. It¡¯ll be done tomorrow, hopefully by noon.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about those tools.¡± The older man stood up and began putting them away himself. ¡°I got them sorted. You eat.¡± It was almost a command but given out of respect, as though from some kind of paternal sensation.

    Jeb shrugged and sat down at the food, beginning to fill his Sac¡¯s stomach. He found his mind wandering about the still. He¡¯d seen on other planets where water could be pulled straight out of the air, on desert planets. It didn¡¯t produce a lot of water, but when you were on a desert planet, any drop could save your life.

    Wait, that¡¯s not right, Jeb thought.

    What isn¡¯t right? Jeebz asked.

    I had... I had a thought. A desert planet, building these stills, but it pulled water out of the air instead of just purifying water. It was... as though I was there.

    I see no record of a desert planet where you have built any stills pulling water out of the air. However, the type of still you are referring to is called an accumulator. Some call them a ¡®collector,¡¯ but that term is more for energy production, collecting free ions from some source, Jeebz seemed to be rattling a bit, which itself was odd.

    Jeebz, do a diagnostic. Date and location. Sequential. See if anything is missing, Jeb ordered.

    From when to when? Jeebz asked.

    Jeb thought a moment, then decided to split the job up. Make it two queries. The first is from the point Gaedon met me in the bar to the present moment. The second, lower priority, is from the beginning to meeting Gaedon.

    This scan would take time. The mind, being a consecutive recording, a recording even when unconscious, was much like a motion picture, except the amount of data in each ¡®picture,¡¯ in each ¡®moment,¡¯ was tremendous. The thoughts, emotions, sensations, estimations, and calculations of mass and trajectory¡ªeverything you need to ¡®think¡¯ about in the act of living. The action of picking up a drink from a table required a tremendous amount of data: height, weight, speed, mass, trajectory, position of the cup, position of the hand, distance, concepts about where it¡¯s going, whether it¡¯s full or empty, and how full or empty would play a role in estimating the amount of work it will take to pick it up.

    A lot of information, much of which is simple math for a drink on a table. But for combat, both melee and in a ship, dealing with serious enemies, strain, and further sensations, it all added up. Each ¡®moment¡¯ recorded in the mind, each millisecond recorded with all the data, could fill warehouses of databanks.

    The amount of data, in fact, was so vast that it¡¯s not entirely known where the data is stored. A thought had been measured once, and a thought had mass. That was clearly determined. The memories also had mass. This could be measured by testing the amount of electrical charge in a Doll at the time of the memory. They even were able to ¡®descramble¡¯ the thoughts so they could be displayed on a screen. Old technology. But where it came from, they had no clue. The Dolls, having their own computers, had their own storage memory banks. These were separate from a person¡¯s unique memories. The old technology was able to ¡®descramble¡¯ a person¡¯s memories, which appeared to have been encrypted, and each encryption was unique. These computers even gained access to commanding the mind to think a thought, much like hypnotism.

    The amount of time it would take to scan would be significant, days or weeks. So, he broke it into two sections. Anything that may have been Gaedon¡¯s doing or something before that.

    ¡°You gonna eat that?¡± The stiller asked, pointing at the food in Jeb¡¯s hand, frozen just before his open mouth.

    ¡°Oh. Right. Sorry, I was thinking about the still.¡± He shook his head, and the low vibration in the back of his mind began. The hypnotic command was not strong and only used a small piece of Jeebz''s resources. While doing these diagnostics, it was easy to lose your train of thought. The mild hypnosis could do that.

    He finished his food, clapped the stiller on the shoulder, and waved his goodbyes. Leaving the house, it was well past dark. His eyes easily adjusted with Jeebz''s help.

    The diagnostic for that earlier part of memory will be done by morning. The other one will take roughly six Earth weeks, Jeebz reported.

    Jeez, that¡¯s a long time. Is there any way to reduce the time? Maybe set a parameter to only look for missing time? Or a key phrase for ¡°desert planet¡± or ¡°accumulators,¡± etc.? Jeb asked.

    The whirring in the back of his head stopped, and a few minutes later, as he was passing the doors into the barn, it began again. This new parameter will take roughly nine or ten days, Jeebz reported with the new parameters set in place.

    That¡¯s a bit better. Thanks, Jeebz, Jeb validated the A.I.

    Raul sat with his back against the wall, using a pile of hay as a cushion. He had a couple of plates and some water skins near him. ¡°Are you hungry?¡± Raul asked.

    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be, but I¡¯m still drained. I could eat several plates of food.¡± Jeb looked down and noticed that the plates had bread and a bowl of stew, along with a couple of cut pears, which he found he really enjoyed. This eating was quite brilliant if you were eating something good. Not eating, that could be quite painful, as he had found out in the last set of dunes.

    Jeb sat down and began to dig into the food, draining the water quickly. Raul got up and came back with a pail of water and another plate of food.

    ¡°Any luck on getting information on travelers?¡± Jeb asked between mouthfuls.

    ¡°No.¡± Raul shrugged. It seemed to Jeb that Raul wasn¡¯t expecting to get any good information.

    ¡°The still should be done tomorrow by noon. You can come and help assemble it. It¡¯s easy enough. It¡¯s big, so any extra hands would be useful.¡± Raul nodded in agreement.

    The next several days were uneventful for Jeb. For the town, it was all abuzz. The new still, now massive, was pumping out clean water almost as fast as people came to put muddy and dirty water into it. It took quite a bit of wood to get that much water up to a good boil.

    It had been three days, no assassins, and his water allotment had been filled. The stiller had given Jeb an old still as well, a smaller one for travels. He¡¯d also given Jeb his coin back.

    ¡°Stranger, you¡¯ve given this town more than you are taking. And for that, we thank you.¡± The stiller had a big smile on his face. Jeb hadn¡¯t really known, but the water had been quite dirty for several months. A large battle had taken place up north, and the waters in the nearby river had been made dirty, hard to drink. The stiller had been working hard on cleaning anything he could, but what little he had hadn¡¯t been enough. Not until Jeb helped him build a new one.

    ¡°I guess I am glad I could help.¡± And he smiled at the older man.

    On the quiet ride out of town, sitting on the bench of the cart with two horses pulling his jugs of water and his baskets of food, he looked down at the small still he¡¯d been gifted. All thoughts of the planet being for the worst kind of criminals seemed to be missing without notice.

 Chapter Eleven: Shifting Sands

    The white moon and the yellow star traversed the sky at their respective arcs nearly twenty times. There was little water left, and the rations had long since run out. The horses, for some reason, still had plenty of feed in the cart.

    ¡°I am hungry, Jeb,¡± Raul said, sarcasm dripping from his words.

    ¡°Really? We just ate,¡± Jeb replied, taking a small sip from his water bag.

    In the distance, there were a couple of trees, and beyond that seemed to be... nothing. Looking around, Jeb seemed to be getting annoyed. The same thing every day: sand, dirt, spiders, and scorpions.

    ¡°Are we certain this is the right direction?¡± It was a hesitant question. He didn¡¯t want to offend his friend.

    Raul pointed. ¡°Those mountains are my mountains.¡±

    ¡°Those mountains don¡¯t seem to get any bigger with the passing days.¡± Jeb looked around again. The wind seemed to be picking up. ¡°Sandstorm?¡± he asked. They¡¯d had a few of them, not too bad. Raul said the worst could take the skin from your flesh.

    Raul looked around, noticing the wind. ¡°Could be.¡± He was nodding. ¡°Those trees up there might be of use.¡± He would have redirected the animals, but they seemed to already be heading in the right direction.

    Several more minutes passed, and the trees came into full view. Twelve palm trees seemed to have been planted in a neat circle, with only a few feet between them. Sand seemed to be piled up more on one side of the circle of trees than the others¡ªthe same side the wind seemed to be coming from, the east.

    In the center of the trees was blackened ground and what looked like the lid to a pot, facing down a few steps away from the "fireplace."

    ¡°Seems like we¡¯re not the first here,¡± Jeb pointed out.

    Nodding, Raul replied, ¡°Yes, I believe this is a travel haven. Known for the trees to protect from wind and sand.¡± He jumped from the cart and began stretching his legs. Then he guided the horses into the small circle, placing the cart on the eastern side for a bit more protection from the wind.

    While Raul handled the animals and the cart, Jeb inspected the fireplace. With his toe, he kicked the lid to the side and found a hole, not too large, maybe a hand span wide, in the ground. It was deep enough that he could not see the bottom.

    ¡°One of those burrowing spiders?¡± he asked Raul, pointing at the hole. Raul tied off the horses and wiped his hands together, cleaning off the feed and water remains.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. The dirt around the hole is too hard. This was dug. Besides, the flat lid was on top of it.¡± Raul fished out some cord, tied a weight to it, and threw it down the hole. It went only an arm''s length. Bouncing the weight up and down confirmed nothing living was there. It did make an odd sound, though. ¡°Not dirt or sand at the bottom. And nothing scurried out.¡±

    Jeb was a bit nervous; Raul had talked for days about the different animals that could kill you on this world: large spiders, scorpions, insects with hundreds of legs, on and on. He did not want to stick his arm in this hole.

    Raul began to laugh, noticing Jeb¡¯s hesitation. ¡°Are you scared of a hole?¡± He laughed harder and harder.

    ¡°No,¡± Jeb said, more sullen than he¡¯d like to admit. He knelt down and plunged his hand into the hole. His fingers caught something. He grabbed it with bated breath and pulled it up.

    A brown paper bag rested in Jeb''s hand. Inside was something soft.

    Well, that¡¯s unexpected, Jeebz mentioned.

    Agreed. I doubt a paper bag exists on this planet. Jeb answered back.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Raul asked.

    ¡°It appears to be some kind of sack or bag.¡± Jeb put the bag on the ground, pulled out a small knife, and began unfolding the bag to gain access. Soon the bag lay on the ground with its opening pointing up. Inside were two sandwiches, wrapped in some kind of clear substance.

    Plastic, food grade. Jeebz confirmed.

    Trap? Jeb queried.

    Most likely. You would have to reveal the food and let me analyze it before consuming it, Jeebz replied.

    ¡°What is that shiny clear stuff?¡± Raul asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± lied Jeb. He knew what it was, and the idea that it was a sandwich was quite odd. Sandwiches were, well, they were for Sacs, but they are a product of technology: cut loaves of bread into thin squares, cheese, sliced meats after compression, some kind of layering to help with the flavor and dryness of bread. Sometimes vegetables.

    He retrieved the sandwiches, which were two in number, and set them on the ground. He used the knife to slice into the thin plastic wrapping the sandwich and then held his nose to the opening.

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    Analyzing, Jeebz commented. After a few moments, the A.I. replied with a report. No poison detected. There seemed to be confusion.

    Raul watched him. He hadn¡¯t touched his yet, though his stomach began to rumble, the body noticing the available food.

    Jeb looked around some more. The sensation and reality of this were very strange. Very unexpected. Very¡­ weird, Jeebz interjected.

    Yes, weird. I don¡¯t trust it.

    ¡°As well you shouldn¡¯t,¡± shot a voice from just outside the tree line. The timing of the comment was uncanny.

    Both Raul and Jeb stood quickly, hands going to their weapons. They quickly found the source of the voice: a small man in gray robes, the hood up protecting him from the increased wind and sand from the east.

    Jeb motioned for Raul to get on top of the cart. ¡°Look around. Yeah?¡± he whispered to Raul. Raul nodded and leapt off to find his perch on the cart.

    The old man made his way gently past the trees and then politely stopped and waited.

    Jeb eyed the man for a bit. Weapons? he asked Jeebz.

    No weapons detected. No metal, Jeebz answered.

    The old man smiled, taking a quick glance at Raul, who was scanning the horizons.

    ¡°I am unarmed. Just old and in need of some food and water, much like you,¡± he said to Jeb, but loud enough for Raul to hear as well.

    ¡°Odd place for an old man to be wandering about,¡± Jeb said, to which Raul grunted his agreement.

    ¡°Oh, well, I am traveling.¡± The old man indicated with his hands if he could sit near the firepit. Jeb stepped to the side and signaled that it was okay, but he did not sit and kept his senses alert.

    ¡°Yes, yes. It was wise of you not to eat these. They are poisoned¡ªnot to kill, but enough to put you into a deep sleep.¡± He dropped the sandwiches back into the hole and put the lid on top. The wood across the firepit, which seemed burned and scorched, he moved aside, revealing another hole. ¡°I believe this would be more to our liking, yes?¡± He withdrew another bag, which also contained sandwiches. This time, there were three.

    Jeb found this all too much. Raul found himself staring hungrily. The old man calmly unwrapped his sandwich, watching Jeb and Raul, as he ate.

    Raul jumped down and hesitantly passed Jeb to the old man. Kneeling down, he grabbed a sandwich and spent some time unwrapping the thin plastic, which had no place on this world.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you hungry?¡± the old man asked.

    ¡°No.¡± It was an odd statement. It wasn¡¯t quite an answer to the old man. It was an answer to the man, but not just the man. It was an answer to this whole situation.

    Again, he said it, ¡°No,¡± but this time it was louder. There was more of a statement, though he wasn¡¯t quite sure what it was. But there was a finality to it, like unbending armor.

    The sandwich in Raul¡¯s hand, the one he had just unwrapped from the ungodly sticky plastic, the one that was about to enter his mouth, vanished from his hands, as did the rest of the scene.

    What replaced it was a tunnel of rock and dirt, the smell of slight dankness, moisture unmoving. The entrance was not too far but around a bend, putting the entire space into shadow.

    The old man sat cross-legged on a large, flat rock, smiling as though he alone understood the joke.

    Jeb¡¯s sword was in his hand faster than the sandwich had vanished, its blade pointing at the old man¡¯s chest. His eyes squinted in the shadows, his ears straining for more sound, but his blade was steady.

    Raul looked at his hands, shaken, then blinked around at the new surroundings. His mind was trying to rationalize the irrational.

    ¡°You have very little time to explain,¡± Jeb said through gritted teeth.

    ¡°Ho ho ho!¡± The man lightly hopped off his rock and shook his weathered robes to length. ¡°I assume you would strike down an old man?¡±

    ¡°Without hesitation.¡± Jeb¡¯s blade did not lose its target.

    ¡°Well, you must be hungry.¡± The man turned and headed deeper into the cave. A small lantern pulled from his robes, and he lit it with a match, which Jeebz identified as a bar of magnesium. ¡°Come, come. Let¡¯s eat and drink real water.¡±

    The air was cold and wet as they went deeper into the cave. Soon they found themselves in a large bowl-like cavern with a hole in the roof, illuminating several pieces of furniture, a small bed of hay, and what looked to be several large flat rocks around a clear pond.

    ¡°Welcome to my home,¡± the man said. ¡°I don¡¯t get many visitors anymore, but you are welcome.¡± His back was facing the point of Jeb¡¯s blade.

    ¡°Scan the room, Raul. Look in the shadows.¡± He wanted to poke the old man into the room, but for some reason, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to do it.

    As they entered the cavern deeper, Raul came back and shook his head. Jeb nodded and put his attention fully on this oddity.

    ¡°Okay, speak,¡± Jeb commanded the old man.

    Slowly, the old man clambered up onto a nearby flattish rock and eased the folds of his robes about him. He seemed to fit there, comfortable, easing himself into a nice position. Finally, his attention was placed on the two men.

    ¡°What is it that you would like to know?¡± he asked them. The light from his lantern seemed to flicker about, though there was no wind. He pulled a sandwich out from his robes and began to take small bites out of it while waiting patiently.

    ¡°What do you mean ¡®what I would like to know?¡¯!¡± Jeb was angry. He was also still confused. Entering the cavern deeper, Jeebz had mentioned that there were possibly drugs in the sandwich and that he had eaten it and was now hallucinating. ¡°The damn desert disappeared!¡±

    ¡°Ah, that. Well, yes, the desert did disappear, I guess you could say.¡± He took another bite, then rubbed some crumbs from his lips. The thin plastic bag lay to his side, a detail Jeb had just noticed. ¡°I guess another way of asking this would be, ¡®was it ever there in the first place?¡¯¡± Another nibble.

    It was hard not to run this man through. It was also hard to focus. He was so tired and hungry.

    ¡°Would you like a sandwich?¡± The old man pulled out another two sandwiches wrapped in the same plastic. ¡°And some water.¡± He pointed at a jug near the small ramshackle writing table.

    Raul eyed the sandwich, unconsciously licking his lips. Jeb found his body also desiring the food.

    ¡°Answers first,¡± he said, addressing both of them.

    ¡°Very well. The desert was there. Then it wasn¡¯t.¡± He raised a finger. ¡°However, perception is reality. And what the mind receives, it tends to have an unfortunate tendency to accept as a communicated reality.¡± He was having a hard time chewing while talking.

    ¡°That¡¯s more of a riddle than an answer,¡± Jeb snapped. ¡°What happened? What did you do? Is this some kind of a sim¡ª¡± Jeb cut off. He was about to say simulation but couldn¡¯t reveal any realities to the prisoners. ¡°Some kind of magic?¡± Maybe they¡¯d buy the hocus pocus. This was a primitive world.

    ¡°Ho ho! Magic. Well. That could be. Yes, I suppose it could be defined as such.¡± He placed the sandwiches on the rock for the two men to pick up.

    Jeb glanced at Raul, who seemed to be staring at this old man, squinting in the dim light. ¡°What is it, Raul?¡±

    He didn¡¯t acknowledge Jeb. Instead, he took a step forward. ¡°Bleek, is that you?¡±

    The old man smiled. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s me, Raul. It¡¯s been some years. You are no longer a little boy. Many years.¡±

 Chapter Twelve - Between Lives

    The sun woke Jeb the next morning. Raul and the monk were talking quietly on the other side of the oasis. The sounds of boiling water in a pot on the fire announced water and potential food, knowing the monk.

    Rubbing sleep from his eyes, the dreams of geometric patterns and laughing doctors faded with his present awareness.

    Your morning exercise regimen should be completed before eating, Jeebz announced. It was much like an alarm clock in Jeb¡¯s head.

    Yeah, yeah. Give me a minute, Jeb replied. Standing, he began to stretch and then followed through with his normal motions to limber his body. After a few minutes, he began his daily calisthenics, starting with two hundred push-ups completed in ninety seconds and then going through his various martial arts forms, using a completely flexed body, all muscles fully under tension.

    After an hour, with sweat pouring off him, assisted by the rising sun beating down on his body, he put his uniform back on, and the environment suit began to regulate his temperature.

    Sitting down, now the water was cool from being boiled, he began to drink his morning ration. The monk had provided more sandwiches, which was customary at this point. Eating, it occurred to Jeb that his plan was now fruitless. The monk had said there was no way off this planet. No ships, no stations. And he¡¯d been here a long time.

    Thinking of the monk was still hard to fathom. This character, some ancient being who supposedly remembers the creation of the universe, yet was trapped on a planet, and was in, presumably, a meat Sac like Jeb¡¯s, but older and frail.

    Then again, the potential physical violence Jeb had threatened in the cave seemed to have zero effect. Who is this guy? he thought to himself. Jeebz didn¡¯t have an answer either.

    As though thinking about him somehow summoned the monk, he appeared next to Jeb and asked if he could sit with him.

    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Jeb said. ¡°I get the feeling I couldn¡¯t stop you either way.¡±

    The monk sat, fixing his robes. ¡°Raul there seems to think very highly of you.¡± There was no sarcasm. There never seemed to be sarcasm from the monk.

    Jeb shrugged. ¡°I believe you told him to follow a man who was dangerous or something like that. It¡¯s not hard to be dangerous.¡± The sandwich always seemed to taste great. Indicating the sandwich, he asked, ¡°Is this an illusion too? Will I die from starvation?¡± There was sarcasm in his tone.

    The monk laughed, the answer unspoken. The monk changed the topic. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve been pondering. Well, that¡¯s pretty much all I have been doing for a while now, but your arrival is a significant change. Your condition is...¡± He paused to think of the word. ¡°Unique. At least for this sector.¡±

    ¡°What are you getting at?¡± Jeb asked.

    ¡°Well, the screen did not take you from your body. You passed right through without it ¡®touching¡¯ you. This is an exception to the rule, particularly in this sector, this system.¡±

    Jeb bit off another bite of his sandwich, concerned it was some figment of his imagination. ¡°Okay. That still doesn¡¯t matter. We still have no ship. And there isn¡¯t likely to be one here for a long while, based on your reports.¡±

    ¡°Oh, there have been ships. But that has never mattered. Get on a ship, fly out and try to leave the planet, and you are sucked back in. I¡¯ve avoided most of them. The ones that I did not avoid, I cannot recall them. I just know there are ¡®gaps¡¯ in my memory. I know what I was doing before, and I know where I was after. But anywhere between twenty-seven minutes and three days, Earth time, is just missing.¡± The monk shrugged. He didn¡¯t seem to be upset by it. Nothing seemed to upset Bleek.

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    Jeb finished his suspect sandwich and wiped his hands on his uniform. ¡°Look, unless you have a way to get me to a station with a ship, then I¡¯m thinking I¡¯m stranded.¡±

    Bleek eyed him, he seemed to get a little more serious, his eyes penetrating.

    Is he doing that mind thing again, accessing data ¡®wirelessly¡¯? Jeb quickly asked.

    No, Jeebz replied. Not that can be detected.

    ¡°A.I.s are interesting things. They were invented a long time ago. The creation of one is a bit of a lost technology. So now the procedure is simply replicated, not understood,¡± the monk said.

    ¡°But you do?¡± Jeb jabbed.

    ¡°No, not exactly. I do not know how they are made. But I do know what they are made of. However, it¡¯s not all that helpful to know.¡± The monk stopped to think about what he had just said. ¡°Well, actually. I guess knowledge is useful. Some knowledge being more useful to one than to others.¡±

    ¡°And how is that relevant to being trapped on a third-rate prison planet?¡± Jeb was watching Raul. He was prepping the horses. Apparently, he¡¯d already watered them, fed them, as well as himself. They would be ready to leave soon. But he didn¡¯t know where to.

    ¡°Being ¡®trapped¡¯ here has given me time to really look at what is going on within the people who are sent here. Rather boring really, not much different among the people sent here. Rebel, genius, politician, artist, and perverts. Each, in their own way, are a threat to the status quo. A threat to the system of control.

    ¡°You had your A.I. ¡®hacked.¡¯ Not many would do that. And most get caught rather quickly. I know, they have been sent here. And without the right equipment, they can¡¯t hack it again, which doesn¡¯t particularly matter since they don¡¯t remember. Death has a funny effect here. Memory seems to fade, life to life.¡±

    Jeb¡¯s attention was suddenly riveted. His previous fear, months ago, of no transference machine. He didn¡¯t know what would happen if the body was damaged beyond self-healing.

    ¡°Oh, you didn¡¯t know!¡± Bleek chuckled warmly. ¡°Yes, there is no particular fear as far as death goes. Another body is usually pretty available. Transference units are used by those who want to control where a being goes for ¡®rebirth.¡¯¡± His mirth was warm. ¡°No, the only part of death that is to be feared is up there.¡± He pointed to the heavens. ¡°There seems to be something that occurs between deaths. I am fairly certain it¡¯s part of what makes this planet a prison.¡±

    ¡°Memory wipe is normal for criminals,¡± Jeb said and then realized what he¡¯d just said. Memory wipe. I can¡¯t remember more than nine thousand years. Was my memory wiped?

    Unknown. Data not available, answered Jeebz. But the question wasn¡¯t for his A.I.; it was for himself.

    ¡°I think I see recognition in those eyes of yours,¡± Bleek smiled. ¡°Well, good. It means your realm just got a little bit bigger.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s this got to do with me?¡± Jeb asked warily. Am I really talking to something like a god?

    ¡°I¡¯m just curious if you could make it to the station without being affected. Without being ¡®sucked in.¡¯¡± Bleek stood and brushed the sand off his robes. ¡°I think Raul is ready.¡±

    Jeb looked over at him, and the apathy of where to go slid back in place. ¡°Yeah, but go where? We were heading for you when you did your little illusion tricks.¡±

    The monk looked up at the sky thoughtfully and then at Jeb. He seemed to come to a decision and promptly nodded to himself.

    ¡°You want off this rock. As do I. Raul here has been on this rock for nearly forty thousand years, and I believe his sentence was only for five thousand. I cannot glean much from the prisoners'' minds, particularly the longer they are here. But he wants out too.¡± He began walking to Raul, leaving Jeb to catch up with haste.

    Something about the monk seemed to have changed all of a sudden, Jeb thought to himself.

    I detect no changes whatsoever, Jeebz answered.

    I doubt you would. The change was in his eyes, beyond them. I¡¯m pretty sure it was in his soul. Jeebz could not respond to that. It was not within his realm of data.

    They all mounted the cart, and the wheels began to turn, the nailed-on ridges helping grip in the sand.

    ¡°Where to?¡± asked Jeb as they broke through the thin line of tall trees.

    ¡°Tell me, Jeb. How do you feel about freedom?¡± It was a question that seemed to pierce him. The words were mere vibrations in the air. The thought, the intention behind them, were so much more.

 Chapter Fourteen - Fortress Gate

    The wheels crunched along the hard-packed ground. The dunes had passed the day before, giving way to dirt and grass. They had found a path that had been traveled enough to leave its mark upon the earth.

    ¡°You think your idea will work?¡± Jeb asked Bleek. His feet were up on the front of the cart, and his arms were stretched wide on the back of the bench. The monk sat in the back of the cart with the empty jugs of water and gear.

    ¡°You are an exception to the rule. The logic is sound. That doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s not dangerous,¡± the monk replied.

    Dangerous? More like suicide, Jeb thought to himself.

    It is marked how dangerous this would be. There are so many unknowns. There is no real prediction. Too many wide variables. The estimation of success ranges from 5% to 95%, Jeebz chimed in, always with the statistics and data analysis.

    ¡°But you say I¡¯m not ready either. What does that mean exactly?¡± Jeb looked over his shoulder at the monk. Raul was intent on the barren path that had rocks and cracks. The ride was not exactly luxurious.

    ¡°Just because you were not caught in the screen outside of the lunar orbit doesn¡¯t mean that the equipment can¡¯t be recalibrated to your mind''s wavelengths. Additionally, you may be good at combat, but on that station, there are more than mere mortals of Earth.¡± The monk pulled out another sandwich, from where Jeb had no clue. Some kind of black hole, he assumed.

    ¡°Okay, so what do I have to do in order to ¡®be ready¡¯?¡± He asked, lifting one leg at a time to stretch them out.

    ¡°Leave the training to me. All you have to do is be willing to be trained,¡± the monk spoke between bites.

    Confusion, vagueness, and no answers. Jeb shook his head, rejecting it all. But he didn¡¯t have much choice, unless he decided to live here, on a prison planet, with no running water and no electricity. He looked back at the path in front of him.

    Minutes passed.

    ¡°If I can possibly make it, why can¡¯t you?¡± Jeb asked, breaking the silence.

    ¡°My influence and mind have been detected. They have been seen. The wavelengths of my electric field cannot pass through the screens without detection,¡± the monk replied.

    It occurred to Jeb that Raul had not mentioned any of this, whatever this was, to either of them. It was as though he wasn¡¯t aware of it. He looked back at the monk, who was finishing his food.

    ¡°That still doesn¡¯t explain how I¡¯m even capable of getting off this rock,¡± Jeb continued. ¡°There are not any stations or ships, at least that is what you claimed.¡±

    ¡°That you will just have to leave to me and trust that it¡¯s possible. Getting you ready is more important.¡± He smiled at Jeb. ¡°Your boots need to be filled. Too much wiggle room at the moment.¡±

    Old man, or whoever he is, Jeb thought a moment. WHATever he is. Jeebz concurred that the correction was an accurate statement.

    ¡°Until then, we¡¯ll need to get some supplies. Our travels are going to be far and many. There are¡­ things we will need to get,¡± the monk continued. ¡°The first thing is foodstuffs and some maps and another set of animals. These ones are worn out.¡±

    Raul, almost on cue, raised his hand and pointed at the horizon. ¡°I think there¡¯s a city up there.¡± He brought his hand over his eyes to shield them from the glare of daylight.

    Jeb sat forward and peered at what Raul had pointed at. Indeed, there was a city. Magnify, he told Jeebz, and his eyes began to zoom in more than a normal eye could see. Indeed, a large city too. Maybe three hours away. It had walls and guards on the top of them, but he couldn¡¯t make out what kind of weapons. Probably bows and swords.

    ¡°I guess we¡¯re in luck. We can probably get what is needed in this city coming up,¡± Jeb said. He leaned his head back and used his forearm to cover his eyes. He was going to try to get some sleep.

    The walls were massive, nearly fifty feet high, which explained how Raul could see them from so far back. Not quite three hours, maybe two and a half. The main gate was pulled up and locked in place, spikes pointing down towards holes in the ground where they could meet and lock in there as well.

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    The gate walkway was also surprisingly thick, nearly five full paces, and doors between the two gates led into some kind of tunnels within the walls.

    On the other side was another wall that guided them to the right, blocking the view of the inside from the outside. Even if you were to break through while sieging this place, you would never know what was coming until the last second.

    The ground was hard-packed dirt, somehow smoothed down into a flat, even surface. Periodic slits in the wall, and the occasional glint of steel on the other end indicated armor and weapons.

    This is a definite fortress. Getting in had been almost botched. Entering this city cost money. And the peasants and poor were left outside of the walls, kept to the sides, begging for those passing in to help them get in as well. No one did.

    Having no coin, they were about to be rejected. But the monk merely told them that they had to go in, and he changed his mind; they were to be let through immediately, without trouble.

    ¡°Not an illusion this time?¡± Jeb asked him.

    ¡°Illusions are based on reality.¡± They were turning the corner now. ¡°Reality and illusion are closely linked and monitored. Altering too much when there are too many people around to directly see it makes things harder. Changing something, even if temporarily, is much easier with a couple of people versus hundreds or even thousands. The way people consider a space to be is that way, and the more people consider it that way, the harder it is to change.¡±

    ¡°You mean like a hive mind?¡± He recalled dealing with some people whose A.I.s had been hacked, and a small moon had been taken over.

    ¡°Yes, you could say that. But this is more directly an unknown agreement. Up is up, down is down. So thoroughly agreed to for trillennia. It¡¯s just automatic now. There is no reasoning with it. Not really.¡±

    ¡°So what did you do to that guy?¡± Jeb pushed on. The walls of buildings came into view, and many paths opened up, leading to different parts of the city.

    ¡°That is different. He got the idea that a lord wanted to see us. Affecting one person¡¯s own mind is much easier than any change to the collectively agreed-upon mind we call reality.¡±

    ¡°K.¡± That was all Jeb could really say.

    They made their way down multiple streets, where food stores, shops, and taverns were abundant. But the refuse on the ground was plentiful too. The people outside would not be much better off inside. The smell was starting to get to Jeb. A man, with no regard for decency, was relieving himself in the middle of the road. He even made eye contact with people walking by and waved while grunting out his body¡¯s defecation.

    ¡°This place¡­ stinks,¡± Jeb said to his companions.

    ¡°Indeed it does,¡± Raul replied. ¡°This city has gotten worse since the last time I was here.¡±

    ¡°How long ago was that?¡± Jeb asked.

    ¡°Oh, maybe five years ago.¡± He looked around, a rag over his mouth and nose. ¡°That¡­ display¡­ would have been dealt with, quickly and quietly.¡± He indicated the man defecating on the bricks twenty paces behind the cart.

    The smell didn¡¯t seem to bother the monk at all. His general mild contentment kept him loosely looking about, occasionally smiling at a child.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get what we need and leave.¡± Jeb saw a man in an alley, on the ground. A pool of blood slowly grew around him. The echoes of footfalls drifted away further down the alley. ¡°This place is cursed.¡±

    The monk gave Jeb a knowing look and nodded quietly. Then his eyes flicked to a building further on in the city, towering above them. Jeb followed his gaze to the large building and¡­ felt something. He didn¡¯t know what it was. A wrongness.

    ¡°There it is.¡± Raul led them up to a building, a smaller tavern. On the side was a gate for the horses and cart to be stored. ¡°We¡¯ll need coin though.¡± He looked over at Jeb. It was Jeb¡¯s problem now. The monk was off the cart and already making his way to the inn.

    ¡°Yeah. I guess we can sell the still. We can buy it back or buy another. I guess I can make another if it comes to it.¡± Jeb helped Raul get the animals and the cart into the stable. Not too much, though; animals were not a thing in Systems. Some worlds didn¡¯t even have an atmosphere outside of the buildings, and inside only to be able to communicate via sound. He missed his other body.

    Locking up, he and Raul found their way into the inn where the monk was in conversation with the innkeeper. A middle-aged man who appeared to be going bald. His skin was a deep olive color. The inn itself was basic, with tables and chairs, a bar for orders received by the one barmaid, and stairs in the back that went up to its only other floor, presumably where the rooms were.

    ¡°Yeah, we have a room. Only one bed, though. Might be big enough for two, if you¡¯re into that.¡± He eyed Jeb and Raul as they joined the conversation.

    ¡°Ah, yes. My two servants,¡± the monk introduced them, his eyes saying not to protest. ¡°They¡¯ll be fine in the hayloft.¡±

    Jeb shrugged and found a nearby table, and Raul joined him. A few moments later, the monk sat with them. ¡°The room is secured, so are the animals.¡±

    ¡°What about coin?¡± Jeb asked.

    ¡°No worries, I handled that.¡± The monk smiled. ¡°Now, onto more important things.¡±

    Raul stood up and said he was going to go for a walk. Jeb glanced up at him, but before he could get a word in, Raul was already halfway to the entrance, now exit.

    ¡°Yeah? What important things?¡± Jeb asked. The barmaid had brought them some water in some kind of metal cup that Jeebz notified him was pewter, a soft alloy.

    ¡°Why, your training of course!¡± The monk seemed excited. ¡°I want you to go walk around the streets. No, don¡¯t go with Raul.¡± He cut Jeb off before he could speak. ¡°I want you to go around and look. Really look. Don¡¯t assume anything. Don¡¯t even let your A.I. report to you, except for danger.¡± The monk stood. ¡°I¡¯ll be in the room. Third door on your right, up the stairs.¡± And with that, he was gone.

    Jeb glared in his direction. What was he doing with this¡­ this, whatever it was? He continued to argue with himself.

    Are you okay? Jeebz asked.

    Splendid. Wonderful. Jeb finished the water and began his tour of hell.

 Chapter Fifteen - Broken Betrothel

    The city was filthy, but Jeb already knew that. He had seen Raul¡¯s back at one point but decided to let the man be alone. It took Jeb a while to get over this whole ¡°training¡± thing. He was blind to the city, except for the smell and the immediate dirty urchin running by. Those were hard to miss.

    But as his mood improved and he started looking at things, he began to see more. And all was not well. He¡¯d given the order to his A.I. to not report anything except danger, which it had only done once, and the mugger was easily avoided.

    No, this city was not well. It wasn¡¯t just physically dirty. There was a tone to it, like a music vid with a bad band and an ugly melody. He felt more and more repulsed by it. He almost decided to go back to the inn several times.

    Eventually, he found himself in front of that tall, massive palace¡ªwell, the gates. The palace was still several hundred feet beyond the gates. The guards wore black armor and long swords, with helms that covered their faces.

    How could they stand the heat in those things? Black and in this sunlight, he thought to himself.

    Rhetorical question? Jeebz asked.

    Yeah. I guess so, Jeb replied, shaking his head and continuing on. He followed the wall around the palace until he came to an alley with a small tavern built into one of the walls. The entrance to the tavern was just that, a hole in an otherwise normal wall of mortar and stone. Inside, there was laughter and candlelight. The sun was edging over the horizon and would soon be dark.

    Checking his sword, making sure the makeshift cover was blocking any glimmer¡ªsomething he¡¯d made after his last experience of being in a town and the locals wanting his priceless artifact¡ªhe entered the tavern, ducking through the hole.

    Inside were several small groups of people: women, men, and a few kids running around. The barmaids, the two of them, were bustling between the groups with trays of food and drink. A man in a corner was playing some instrument, a stick with strings attached to some kind of bowl in the middle. It wasn¡¯t a synth, but it was pleasant enough.

    ¡°Wherever you like, dear. I¡¯ll be right with you,¡± one of the barmaids said as she passed by, off serving other patrons.

    Jeb found a table in a corner near the window next to the ¡°door,¡± a position where he could watch the opening. A few minutes later, the barmaid was back.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± She was a younger lady, not heavyset but not a twig. Her hair was twirled down around the left side of her face, the rest in a bun atop her head. Her smile was inviting. It was her eyes that caught him. She had big, beautiful brown eyes. Odd he would think that. But they were. Large and beautiful, but sad too.

    After a moment that was longer than expected, he cleared his throat. ¡°Actually, sorry. I don¡¯t have coin at the moment. I was just walking and saw this place. I have been walking for hours. I just wanted a place to sit.¡± He smiled back at her. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose water is free?¡±

    She squinted her big beautiful eyes at him, gauging him. ¡°A man with a sword, dressed as you, with no coin?¡± She clearly didn¡¯t believe him.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Maybe I should just go.¡± But right then, trouble entered the room. Three guards and a small man who appeared to have a face that was almost sunken in on itself. He was covered in what would pass for rich men¡¯s clothing, but they were dirty, much like the rest of the population in this city. His long beak of a nose pointed along with his finger, right at the barmaid.

    Her gasp alerted him to further trouble. She whispered a prayer to some deity he did not recognize and began to back away, but it was too late. The guards were already walking this way.

    Jeb glanced back at the man and then at the three guards, each wearing heavy armor and helms, with long swords strapped to their hilts.

    FUCK! Jeb exclaimed into his head.

    Indeed, Jeebz replied.

    Do I have to get involved? he asked.

    No, Jeebz answered. In fact, I recommend against it.

    But Jeb knew it was too late. As soon as she¡¯d looked at him with those big brown eyes, he¡¯d known it was too late.

    The guards were closing in on his table, the lady had backed further away. He made his chair shift as though to get out of the way, but it was really to give his arm and sword room. Just before the first guard, the one in the front of the other two in wedge formation, Jeb slid his blade clean out and clean through the first guard¡¯s head, straight through armor and bone. The motion was so smooth the two guards behind actually stepped into the flailing man¡¯s body and tripped, their heavy armor carrying their momentum forward and down.

    Jeb¡¯s eyes flicked to the lady who stood there stunned, looking at the dead man on the ground. The squeak made his eyes flick the other way, and the dirty, shriveled man had fled out the hole.

    Two quick motions and the guards on the ground stopped moving. Jeb eyed their armor and weapons, then noticed three small bags attached to their belts, just under some armor. He snatched them up, felt the coin inside, and then looked at the lady.

    ¡°Not guards. Assassins dressed as guards.¡± He watched her reaction and then recognition lit her face. She looked at the bags of coin, then to the men, and back to Jeb.

    ¡°And you are not?¡± she asked. The room was silent. The music had stopped. If he strained, he was sure he could hear the rapid beat of many people¡¯s hearts without any attunement to his hearing with Jeebz¡¯s help.

    ¡°No. Just a man. In the wrong place, at the wrong time. As usual.¡± He hefted the coin. Significant amount for a barmaid. ¡°I think you should come with me. At least for now. It¡¯s not safe here.¡± He said, wiping the little blood on his sword on the cape of the top guard.

    She nodded in agreement, unwrapped her apron from her waist, and left it on the table next to her¡ªin a patron¡¯s plate of food, who hadn¡¯t noticed it yet. He was still stiff from fright, the men on the floor, and the scary man with the sword on his hip.

    They both quietly left through the hole and began to walk quickly down a nearby alley. Twisting and turning, they found themselves on another street a ways away from the tavern.

    ¡°I¡¯m Jeb, by the way,¡± he said as he glanced down the street, trying to get his bearings. Okay Jeebz, you can start operating normally now.

    You are approximately one mile from the tavern. Left forty paces, then right down the small street. Will update you as we go along, Jeebz began triangulating their position based on memory of previous positions.

    ¡°Sarla,¡± she said, rubbing her arms. The dark had come, and with it, the cold. ¡°Where are we going?¡±

    ¡°To safety, I hope. I have a room¡ªwell, kinda. Anyway, we have friends there,¡± he said. He indicated the direction they were to go and began walking at an even pace.

    Some guards walked across the hard-packed dirt but did not see them.

    ¡°Why were those guards after you, or at least that little weasel of a man?¡± he asked as they turned the next corner at Jeebz''s direction.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    She didn¡¯t answer at first, as though she was forming a story or plot. ¡°I ran away.¡±

    ¡°From what?¡± he asked, turning the next corner.

    ¡°I was to be betrothed.¡± It seemed hard for her to say.

    ¡°And so, you chose not to, and now they have assassins after you?¡± He wasn¡¯t sure he fully believed this story.

    She eyed him. ¡°You aren¡¯t from around here, are you?¡±

    He shook his head as they passed another alley, half his attention on her, the other half on his surroundings. ¡°Pretty far, actually. I¡¯ve been traveling for almost two months now, from the south and west.¡±

    She frowned at that. ¡°There¡¯s nothing but sand that way.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me.¡± Some guards stepped into the road almost right in front of them. They looked like they were looking for someone. He casually angled away while grabbing her hand and went into the storefront right next to him.

    It was a bridal store. How ironic, he thought to himself.

    Sarla flinched once she recognized the theme of the store. She eyed him suspiciously.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. It¡¯s not like that.¡± He looked around and saw many rings, dresses, and flowers, all on display. ¡°Guards were looking for someone right in front of us,¡± he whispered to her as they looked at some flowers.

    She nodded her head and then leaned over and smelled the plant and its petals. She seemed to smile at its scent.

    What is that strange sensation? he asked himself.

    Your hormones seem to be malfunctioning, Jeebz said. One moment. Jeb could feel a heat build-up, and then a few moments later, it began to abate. There, should be balanced now.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think this was the store he was talking about,¡± Jeb said to Sarla, just loud enough for the shopkeeper, who was coming up front, to hear. With slumped shoulders, the keeper turned and headed back to her chair. Sorry, lady, wasn¡¯t trying to get your hopes up.

    They left the shop and stood on the front step. There were no guards in sight. How much further, Jeebz?

    Approximately twenty minutes at this rate. Five if you run. But I doubt she could keep up, Jeebz reported back.

    Fine, keep us going.

    Twenty minutes later, they came through the front door of the tavern where he¡¯d left the monk. Raul was sitting at a table, a plate of food under a knife and fork, and a mug of some kind of dark drink. He had a big grin on his face. The barmaid didn¡¯t seem all that thrilled.

    ¡°Jeb! You¡¯re back!¡± He began to stand, but Jeb motioned him quickly to remain seated. His smile faded as he placed his weight back into the chair. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he asked as Jeb began to sit, with the door in clear view.

    ¡°Trouble, as usual,¡± Jeb said. The lady sat next to him, quiet, eyes darting around.

    Raul glanced at Jeb¡¯s sword and saw that it was still there. ¡°No, not that.¡± Then he thought about it. ¡°Well, kind of that.¡±

    He quickly explained what happened. Raul¡¯s eyes seemed comfortable with the dead but glanced at the girl when the part about her leaving was brought up. He was clearly surprised.

    ¡°Why? What?¡± Jeb asked.

    ¡°I keep forgetting you are not from this area,¡± Raul said. ¡°I used to be from here, at least a few towns over, not far.¡± He clicked his tongue. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, lady.¡± She shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s a crime to abandon a betrothal. Severe penalty.¡±

    ¡°What penalty? Crime?¡± Jeb asked them.

    The lady seemed to slump as though she¡¯d been caught. She began to weep and leaned down onto the table, arms folded under her head so she could cry into her small cavern of arms.

    Jeb was a bit shaken. ¡°Okay. So, it¡¯s a crime? Penalty severe. So what? So, I committed a crime by stopping justice for a crime already committed?¡± He leaned back in his chair.

    ¡°Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,¡± Raul said, the last bit of food on a fork going into his mouth.

    Jeb looked at the girl for a moment. ¡°Why?¡±

    She looked up at him. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°What are you? A record player?¡± The comment slipped out. They probably did not have record players. The look on her face indicated as much. She mouthed ¡°Record Player¡± and it felt weird in her mouth. ¡°Yeah, why did you abandon the betrothal?¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± She seemed to get a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden.

    ¡°Excuse me. I beg your pardon, but your master asked to have you sent up to his rooms. All three of you,¡± the barmaid interjected.

    With a glance and a shrug, Raul stood and then so did Jeb. Sarla was last to stand. ¡°Well, I get you don¡¯t want to explain. But you¡¯ll have to. I¡¯m sorry. But I just¡­ did what I did. I think I deserve an answer.¡± Jeb held her arm gently and guided her up the stairs in the back of the tavern.

    He could feel her let him guide her. Soon they were at the monk¡¯s room. ¡°Come, come,¡± a voice came from the other side.

    What does he have, infrared vision or something? he grumbled to himself.

    Unlikely, Jeebz replied.

    It was rhetorical, Jeebz.

    Jeb opened the door and ushered everyone in first. With a quick glance down the stairs, stopping to listen for any heavy armor entering the inn downstairs, he decided it was safe and closed the door behind him.

    ¡°Good! Excellent. You are here, and with company. Most welcome, my lady,¡± the monk addressed them all with a smiling glance at each in turn.

    ¡°Now, first. What did you discover?¡± He was looking at Jeb, who in turn looked at Sarla.

    ¡°I¡¯m not quite sure.¡± He looked back at the monk. ¡°I will find out soon enough.¡±

    The monk waved her away. ¡°No, not that. Everything else. What did you see?¡± he said with a slight emphasis.

    Jeb rubbed the back of his head where his hair was tied into a ponytail. ¡°Well. It¡¯s dirty. People are unhealthy. And sad. Most of them are sad. Sad or scared.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh, go on.¡± He egged Jeb on.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what else to tell you,¡± Jeb said with a sigh.

    ¡°Not your conclusions or your assumptions. Just tell me what you saw, nothing more.¡± He seemed to sit back on his bed, comfortable, calm, serene.

    ¡°I saw children with dirty faces. Gaunt and frail. I saw women crying and dead men in the alleys.¡± As he began to recount his walk, he began to pick up more and more detail. Little nuances that he had taken for granted. Just random data that was not yet analyzed, could not be analyzed until compared with another piece of data, comparable data. ¡°The guards. The guards wear black armor, but I can¡¯t see their faces. Their height is all the exact same. The sound they make when they walk is muffled.¡± And then it dawned on him. It wasn¡¯t until after dark that what he had seen really registered. Oh, it was there now during the day as well, now that he knew what to look for. ¡°Light seems to dim around the guards.¡± Yes, the torchlight on the corner next to the guards that walked right in front of them at the bridal store. The light seemed to not touch them the same, like they were in a very slight blur in a picture from a camera. Dimmed down.

    ¡°Good.¡± The monk was clearly pleased. ¡°Good. Now, I can tell you about this lady here.¡± He looked over at her, his smile pleasant. ¡°She was to be married to the regent of this area. The palace was to be her home.¡±

    Sarla flinched at the mention of the marriage and the palace. Jeb eyed her, scrutinizing every detail. But all he could see were her eyes. And her sadness.

    ¡°Raul was out looking for things as well.¡± Raul¡¯s head came up when he was mentioned.

    ¡°Oh, yeah. Here you go.¡± He pulled a small tethered sack from his larger shoulder bag. ¡°I hope it¡¯s right.¡± He gave it to the monk.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± The monk began to pluck the strings open that tied the sack shut. He pulled out clothes. ¡°This should help you fit in better.¡± He handed them to Jeb.

    Jeb stared at the clothes and then down at his own. There was blood on his. The spray was not avoidable.

    ¡°I can wash mine,¡± he said.

    ¡°As you wish. But you stand out like a flare.¡± There was a slip from the monk; he¡¯d almost said solar flare. ¡°Not only will you be recognized by,¡± he pointed, ¡°that, but you need to merge yourself into society. Being an outsider, not allowing yourself to be part of the group will keep you from perceiving everything.¡±

    Jeb took the clothes.

    ¡°Now, for the rest of the story. Yes, it¡¯s ¡®illegal¡¯ to abandon a marriage.¡± The first scorn he¡¯d heard pass through the monk¡¯s lips. ¡°But I believe she can tell you more.¡±

    Sarla notably stiffened. She didn¡¯t move her head, but her eyes darted to the door. ¡°Raul, the door, please,¡± Jeb gently commanded. Raul stood and leaned on the door. The room was small, not far for Raul.

    Jeb turned his full attention to the would-be bride. ¡°I think it¡¯s time now,¡± he said, gentler than he thought he had in him.

    She slumped again. ¡°I ran away.¡± She looked at the door, but there was no energy in it. ¡°I ran away because they were going to sacrifice me. So I stabbed the priest and fled.¡±

    Jeb, being who he was, found this absolutely preposterous and began to laugh.

    Sarla looked up at him, fire in her eyes. ¡°What is so funny?¡±

    It took a moment. ¡°It¡¯s illegal to flee from being sacrificed?¡± The words left quivering lips. He couldn¡¯t retain the absurdity of it.

    ¡°The religion here is quite serious. It¡¯s worse than a flesh crime. It¡¯s a crime against God.¡± Raul seemed to be mildly upset. Sarla glanced at him and bowed her head away.

    The monk seemed to take all this in without any reaction whatsoever.

    After a moment, Jeb composed himself. ¡°Okay. Sorry.¡± He looked around the room. Everyone was staring at him, Sarla¡¯s head still bowed, looking through her hair. ¡°Okay, fine. I don¡¯t come from a religious place. So, I am not used to this.¡±

    Sacrifice for a god? What are they thinking! It¡¯s backwards, inverted. Hell, it¡¯s PERVERTED, Jeb thought to himself.

    Some primitive cultures have deities. All responsibility is laid at the ¡®creator¡¯s¡¯ feet. There are records of these. Few. But they exist, Jeebz replied.

    ¡°Be that as it may. The girl fled,¡± Raul said quietly.

    ¡°From being sacrificed. Yes. We know,¡± Jeb said bitterly. More defensive than he should have. ¡°Sorry.¡± He looked over at the monk.

    ¡°I believe we have our in,¡± the monk said, looking at the girl.

    ¡°Huh? Who, me?¡± She squeaked. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I believe that this has been going on too long.¡± He looked back at Jeb. ¡°What do you think about this, Jeb?¡±

    Jeb met his eyes and it began to dawn on him that this monk was more, far more than he knew. All the little things he¡¯d said and done seemed to really form into a concept of who this being was. A dangerous one.

    The monk continued to smile serenely, eyes flickering in the candlelight.

    Oh yes. Dangerous.

    Indeed, replied Jeebz.