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.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  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.