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 could 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 didn't.
"I feel something in you," she said. "There is a mastery of your body, of your mind. I've seen it before. Have you ever heard of the Force?"
Anakin did not show by a flick of muscle that the question had startled him. His Jedi training ran deeper than anything else. He felt it stir, and he leaned into it for support. "No."
She nodded again, slightly. "That may be true, and it may not. If you don't know it already, you might be Force-sensitive. That means you could have special abilities."
Wary now, Anakin shrugged. He didn't want to discuss the Force with this woman. He wanted to go back to the garden. The quickest way to do this, he knew, was to seem bored by her questions.
"Did you ever see something happen before it actually happened?" she asked.
He made himself look blank. "I don't think so."
"Are your reaction times unusually fast? Do you have an unusually strong focus?"
He took a long pause that stretched for a moment. She leaned forward in anticipation.
"Uh, what was the question?"
She made an impatient gesture. "Were your reaction times unusually fast? Before you came here."
"I was always the first to reach the table for a meal."
She leaned back, disappointed. Her eyes went blank. It was as though now that she was bored with him, he didn't exist.
"You can go back to the garden now."
Anakin stood and left the room. He walked back to the courtyard. The doctor was working for the Vanqors. She wasn't a native Vanqor. Vanqors were humans, but they all dressed in gray tunics and didn't adorn their clothing. She was an outlander, no question.
There was a time he would have been on fire to discover who she was and why she was here. But today the sun shone, and it was warm in the courtyard. And it was almost time for the midday meal.
Chapter Nine
Even with the help of the cable launcher, it took Obi-Wan hours to scale the peak. The sun was setting as he reached the top and sat down to rest under a rock outcropping that had created a small cave. He would need all his strength for his task.
Over the wide chasm below, he saw the camp. He was close enough to see without electrobinoculars beings moving about. He watched as a small transport came toward him. He knew he could not be seen, so he was able to study the flight line of the ship. It buzzed overhead, seeming close enough to touch, then zoomed down to land at the camp landing platform.
Obi-Wan fingered his cable launcher. If he timed it exactly right, he should be able to hook onto the underside of a low-flying transport. They wouldn't be able to feel the drag for that short a distance. He would let himself be towed by the transport and then drop to the ground during the landing. If everything went right.
If something went wrong, he'd be squashed like a bug against the side of a crater.
He rolled himself up into his thermal cape and told himself to go to sleep. Worrying about Anakin would only interfere with the rest he needed.