Silence again.

I sat on the floor. It was hard. Not like a bulkhead of a ship hard, like a thousand feet thick of granite hard. It was not cold though. I actually could not feel anything, not temperature, moisture or fear. I did not feel afraid.

Why am I not afraid?

The chains were light and thin, but surely strong. They ran down from wrist shackles, joined together with an elegant ring and then to a floor mounted swivel. I had about ten feet of slack in the restraints. That ten feet was meaningless because there was nothing to reach for, no furniture, no walls in sight and nothing else.

What is The One Question?

I felt no pain, no anxiety or fear. I felt nothing but curiosity for that question. I was brought here, that much I could swear to. I certainly would not come here by choice.

My clothes were not my own. I was wearing a uniform of some kind. The fabric was satiny but drab. It had long sleeves, cuffs at wrist and ankle and a strange cinch at the waistline. It was not mine.