by Jude Watson
They were led to a gray building with no sign outside. When they were
ushered inside, Anakin's nose twitched. It smelled like chemicals. So the
rumors could be true. The prisoners exchanged uneasy glances.
They were prodded along the hallway and pushed into a bare white room.
There a holoscreen took up an entire wall. An image of a human male dressed
in a med coat appeared on the screen. He smiled gently.
"Do not fear. You will not be harmed. On the contrary, you are about
to enjoy the experience for which we have chosen you. Welcome to the Zone
of Self-Containment. A doctor will be with you shortly to explain. In the
meantime, relax."
"Relax," one of the prisoners snorted. "Good advice, med-head."
The holo image blinked off.
"What did he say?" another one of the imprisoned soldiers asked. "The
Zone of Self-Containment? What are they going to do to us?" He pressed his
fingers to his forehead. "I feel strange."
Anakin, too, felt light-headed. He suddenly realized why the
information had been given to them by a holo image instead of a real
person.
"The room is filled with some kind of gas. They've drugged us," he
said as his vision blurred. He felt his knees turn to water. One of the
prisoners slumped to the floor.
Anakin felt himself slipping downward. He fought the sensation of the
gas. The others slipped into unconsciousness. He held himself in readiness.
He tried to move his legs and found that they were too heavy.
He was the only one conscious when the technicians entered the room in
masks. He saw, but he could not move a finger. The technicians began to
load the other prisoners onto repulsorlift stretchers.
"Look at this one, he's still awake," one of the technicians said,
drawing closer to Anakin. "Never seen that before."
"He's not too happy about being here, either," another said.
One of them leaned closer to Anakin. "Don't fight it, friend. We just
want some cooperation in the beginning. I guarantee you'll like your stay
here."
Using every ounce of his will and strength, Anakin grabbed the
technician by the collar and brought his face even closer. "Don't... bet...
on it."
The technician yelped and struggled to free himself. "Help! For
galaxy's sake!"
The other two rushed over. Anakin could not fight the three of them.
He was thrown onto the stretcher and strapped down. He dipped in and out of
consciousness as the stretcher was powered down the hall. A door opened.
The light hurt his eyes.
They began to undress him. My lightsaber, Anakin thought. The disk. He
had retained his utility belt and concealed the disk inside a hidden slit.
He had concealed his lightsaber by lodging it against his body underneath
the tunic, strapping the belt tight against the hilt.
He could not summon the Force enough to distract the technicians from
finding it. He was helpless. Only luck could save him from discovery. The
belt was unstrapped and hit the tiled floor with a soft thud. His tunic
followed. The technician scooped up the bundle and tossed it in a storage
box with clothes from the other prisoners.
Anakin shut his eyes against the harsh light. He felt himself being
lifted and slipped into water. He tried to fight, afraid he would drown.
"Relax, friend," the technician said. "It's just a bath."
The water was warm. He slid against the side. He was strapped in so
that his head wouldn't slip beneath the surface. Anakin's mind drifted as
though he were floating off on a deep, dark lake.
He must have slept. When he woke, he was dry and was wearing a fresh
tunic, this one a soft material, in dark blue. He was lying on a sleep
couch. The sleep had refreshed him. He felt relaxed and energized. He
stretched, marveling at how fluid his limbs felt. The paralyzing drug
effects had worn off, but strangely, had left him feeling limber.
He recognized the technician who handed him a pillow. "Feel better?
Told you so. Almost time for the evening meal."
Anakin shook his head.
"They all refuse at first," the med technician said. "Don't worry, the
food isn't drugged. We all eat together, workers and patients."
Anakin shrugged. Maybe the man was telling the truth. Maybe not.
Oddly, Anakin didn't care. It was as though cool water had run through his
veins, calming every impulse, every desire.
He walked to the dining hall. Tables were set up, and other patients
and med workers were eating. There was a long table with platters heaped
with fruits and vegetables, pastries and meats. Anakin saw that everyone
ate from the same plates, so he took some food and ate it.
He chewed, wondering what would come next. He supposed something would
happen soon. When it did, he would react.
The need to help Typha-Dor seemed so distant now. Someone else would
help the planet. There was always someone else to do something, if you
waited. He would just pass the time here and see what the Vanqors were up
to. That could be valuable to the Typha-Dor, too. He needn't worry about
the invasion right now.
He ate and followed some other prisoners out into the courtyard.
Warming lights had been set up, and the air was comfortable. Flowers grew,
and large, leafy trees. Anakin found a bench and sat. He felt something he
had not felt in a long, long time, not since he was a little boy nestled in
his mother's embrace: peace.
I'll fight it soon. When I need to escape, I will. But right now...
right now, would it be so wrong to enjoy it?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Obi-Wan waited until the starships were out of sight. He couldn't risk
a long transmission to the Temple. But he would have to risk a distress
call. The calls would be coded and scrambled, and he would have to hope it
could reach the Temple.
They could lock on his position and send help. It would take almost
two days to arrive, but he had to risk it.
The tracking device tucked in Anakin's tunic beeped a steady signal.
Obi-Wan trudged back to the ship. He climbed through the hole and went to
the rear cargo hold. He had to cut through the crunched door with his
lightsaber. He remembered that they had loaded one swoop aboard. They had
to leave the rest behind because Anakin needed to lighten the ship's load
as much as possible.
The swoop was dented from slamming back and forth between the cargo
hold's walls, but it still worked. Anakin had made sure of that before they
left the outpost. Now he had transportation. Obi-Wan only hoped that Anakin
was close enough to get to on a swoop. It was small, built for short
distances, and it didn't hold much fuel.
He climbed aboard and took off. The tracking device led him over the
high plateaus and desert lands surrounding the Tomo Craters. He looked down
as he sped over the terrain, glad he wasn't on foot. The plateaus were high
and steep, and trails led to dead ends and switchbacks. It would have taken
days to traverse the distance. Obi-Wan stayed as close to the ground as he
dared, trying to evade scanners and surveillanc
e from above. The tracking
device led him on as the sun slid lower in the sky.
The fuel read EMPTY and the engine began to sputter. By Obi-Wan's
reckoning he was still at least twenty kilometers from Anakin. He had no
choice. He had to land.
He pulled the swoop into a cave, entering the coordinates on his
datapad. He might need it later, if he could find some fuel. He started to
walk.
It was hard going. Obi-Wan hiked up and down steep slopes of thin rock
shale that occasionally broke into dangerous rockslides. At last he stopped
to rest when the source of the tracking device's transmission was in sight.
Obi-Wan studied the camp through his electrobinoculars. The good news
was that the perimeter security wasn't heavy, most likely because the camp
relied on its inaccessibility.
He had reached the heart of the Tomo Craters. A careful survey of the
ground made Obi-Wan conclude that camp security was correct not to worry
about escaping prisoners. If Obi-Wan could manage to scramble up and down
cliffs and hike through canyons without disturbing a nest of gundarks or
getting attacked by various other horrifying creatures, he might make it to
the outskirts of the camp. Then he would have to scale a sheer rock wall
two hundred meters high. He would be vulnerable with every centimeter he
traveled. It would be better to go in by air.
Of course, he didn't have a transport. That could be a problem.
He sat on a high peak, underneath an outcropping of rocks. He watched
the camp operations for the rest of the waning evening. Transports flew in
and out in a regular pattern, ferrying supplies and possibly carrying
troops back and forth. Obi-Wan guessed that the camp must also be a base of
some sort.
He could wait for a few days to see if his message had reached the
Temple. But what if it hadn't?
Rescue was his first priority. He had to get that disk to Typha-Dor.
And if Anakin didn't have the disk, what would you do? If Shalini had
given it to you, would you take it to Typha-Dor and abandon him?
The answer should have been easy. As a Jedi, his commitment was to the
galaxy. He would have had to go to Typha-Dor without Anakin. Would he have
attempted a rescue anyway, knowing that Anakin would be waiting for him? He
was glad he didn't have to make that choice.
The flight pattern of the ships was always the same. They dipped low
as they came in, then landed close to the edge of the plateau, where a
short landing pad was surrounded by energy fencing.
Obi-Wan surveyed the area carefully. He thought back on the beginning
of the mission, when he'd been brooding about how careful he had become,
how much he now weighed risks and thought things through.
Well, he had thought things through, and he had decided that this plan
was crazy. He could get pummeled by rocks. He could crash into a crater
hundreds of meters below. He could be spotted and blasted into thin air.
All of these scenarios were likely. It was a risky plan. It bordered
on stupid.
Which meant that perhaps he wasn't so careful after all.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Once, Anakin and Obi-Wan had taken a few weeks to travel through the
grasslands of the planet Belazura, strictly for pleasure. Obi-Wan
considered the planet to be among the most beautiful in the galaxy, and he
wanted to show it to Anakin. Anakin remembered Obi-Wan telling him that
even the life of the Jedi must include time to reflect among beautiful
surroundings. Anakin's only instructions during the trip were to enjoy
himself. He had.
He had seen fields of grasses that ranged from light sunny yellows to
deep greens. He had seen golden fields dotted with deep red flowers. Blue
skies had surrounded them like a halo of light. He remembered that he was
never hot, and never cold. That the breeze against his skin had felt as
soft as his mother's touch.
It had been a peaceful time he had returned to again and again in his
daydreams. And now he was experiencing it once more.
To Anakin's surprise, he underwent no treatments. He was not drugged
again. He was not treated like a prisoner. His room was spare, with just a
sleep couch and table, but he had access to a sunny area inside and the
courtyard outside. Anakin found that he wanted nothing more than to sit
there, his face tilted to the warming lights, watching the shadow patterns
of the leaves on the wall. He found that it was easy to contemplate the
different greens of the leaves for hours. Yet it was not the mindlessness
of the meditation he had been taught. He did not leave his body. He did not
leave his cares. He could see them as though they were off at a distance.
They had nothing to do with him. He knew that everything would work out as
it should.
He was not sure how much time had passed. Maybe no more than a day or
two. Anakin occasionally thought about escaping. The thought would drift
across his mind like a warm breeze, and then disappear.
One afternoon two med technicians came into the garden and stood
before him. "Someone would like to see you, Prisoner 42601."
Anakin rose and followed them. He felt a slight curiosity. They walked
on either side of him, not touching him or restraining him in any way.
There was no need to.
Anakin was led into an office. The technicians left, shutting the door
quietly behind them. Unlike the rest of the complex, which was comfortable
but spare, this office was full of color and luxury. A thick, patterned
carpet was on the floor and septsilk curtains in deep blue hung at the
windows. He thought he could smell a pleasant perfume. He sat down in a
soft chair and leaned back against a rose-colored pillow.
A human woman walked into the room. Her blond hair was threaded with
silver and coiled at the nape of her neck. She was older, he sensed, but he
could not tell by her face, which was unlined and smooth. Her eyes were
penetrating but warm.
Instead of sitting behind the desk, she perched on the edge of it.
"Thank you for coming."
Anakin nodded. He could hear a ghost in his head, a murmur of the
person he had been. That person would have said, Did I have a choice? But
now he did not feel like challenging this person, this woman with the
pretty hair and the warm smile.
"I asked to see you," she said. "I am the doctor who invented the Zone
of Self-Containment. You have seen that we haven't lied to you. Your
experience is about pleasure, not pain. I have a theory that if you are
surrounded by pleasant things and no worries, your mind will elevate to
that level. Are you happy here?"
Anakin considered the question. Happy? Suddenly he felt confused. What
did the word mean? Had he ever been happy? He remembered a flash of a young
boy, running home through narrow streets. He remembered laughing with his
friend Tru Veld, a fellow Padawan who he had not seen in a year. He could
locate the memory, but not the feeling.
For some reason, his confusion made her smile. "Wrong question. Let me
rephrase. Are you content?" That he coul
d answer. "Yes."
"Good. That is our goal. Now. The reason I asked for you is that the
technicians tell me that you were able to fight the paralyzing agent we
used when you first arrived. I should explain that the agent is used only
to allay any anxiety you might feel. Naturally as prisoners of war you
would suspect that something terrible might happen to you. The agent was
only used to make the experience more comfortable for you. You needed to be
bathed and dressed, and the paralyzer allowed us to do that without you or
the technicians getting hurt. It was for everyone's benefit, you see."
That seemed reasonable, but Anakin said nothing. Although he was
perfectly content to talk to this doctor, and was enjoying this wonderful
peace he felt, being here had not completely erased the memory of being a
Jedi. He did not necessarily trust what this doctor had to say.
"It is impossible to resist that paralyzing gas, yet you assaulted a
technician."
"I grabbed his collar," Anakin corrected pleasantly. "And you spoke to
him."
"It seemed appropriate under the circumstances."
She nodded in appreciation. "I see that though you are in the zone,
you still have your wits about you."
"I don't like to abandon them completely, no," Anakin offered.
She studied him now. Anakin could feel sunlight touch his face. His
skin warmed, and he wanted to close his eyes to enjoy the sensation, but he
