Lost

[Atragon9 0]

::A9 sits on the floor of his cell, near the toilet - the only part of his cell that is not a smooth stone surface of floor, wall or ceiling::

 

{I don't look around any more, I don't get up or move at all. I gave up going through the door for the holosuite "exercise time," and I don't eat the food that is slid into the room on those flimsy aluminum foil trays. It seems that more time is lost during my conscious hours. I wake up with bruises on my arms from intravenous feedings. It is an old-fashioned technique, yet it is keeping me alive.}

 

{What I don't know is why I am being kept alive. They aren't questioning me, at least not verbally - while I'm awake. I can't remember when, but I gave up wondering why, wondering where, wondering how they have avoided being tracked by Starfleet. It's as if no one is even trying to find me. I have never thought of myself as a spiritual man, rather a man of cold reason, logic, empirical proof. And yet reason and logic has fled and I am lost. I have surrendered at the deepest level and there is no one to accept my terms. I have nowhere to go and no reason to stay - besides my imprisonment and my profound lack of caring. I will never be free and never know if I am freed. I just persist, totally at the whim and direction of my captors. I have nothing to do with that and I wonder why I am being kept around. Again, it's the one word I still cling to - why.}