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Prologue

"What do you have in your defence?" the judge asked rhetorically, as he knew I committed the crime and have no evidence that suggests otherwise. I also couldn't afford to hire a defence lawyer, so I was on my own. "I don't have any evidence that would help my case; I plead guilty." The judge slammed his gavel on the cold, wooden podium. "Court has been dismissed." As the spectators cleared the room, I was approached by two police officers who drove me downtown to the police station.

"You have two choices" said an officer. I was seated in a small, slightly claustrophobic room, with a single cop asking my questions. This seemed to be the final question, however. "What are these two choices?" I asked politely. No reason to be rude, I thought. "Choice A: Death row, where you will slowly wait with no possible escape from that terrible place except for the cold hand of death itself. And before I tell you what about choice B, sure, there is a better chance of survival. What I mean is a chance of survival at all. But the risks nearly outweigh the "rewards"." "You sound like you're trying to discourage me from picking the second decision, officer" I stated. "I cannot tell you anything about this place, besides that it is called the Foundation. If you pick the Foundation, you will stay there for a month and then be released back to your normal life. Well, "normal"." One month, I thought? That seems like the better choice. However, he is trying to steer me from it for reasons I cannot understand. I mine as well go for one month and then release, versus possibly years and then death. "I think I have made my decision" I stated simply. There was a brief period of silence, interrupted by the cop. "And that decision is...?" "I choose the second option." There was another pause. "Are you sure that you have made the correct decision?" he asked sincerely. "I am sure, officer." And with that, he stood up from his chair and left the room. I heard some murmuring outside of the door, and after a few minutes, a man opened the door. This man looked like some kind of SWAT officer, rather than a typical escort. He motioned for me to follow him, and after leaving the police station building, I climbed into the back of a large truck. At least 6 other convicts were there as well, all hand cuffed to the sides of the truck. After a few minutes, an officer came and hand cuffed me along with all the other prisoners. The truck sputtered to life, and the road trip went as expected until we reached the outskirts of town. Without any warning, a gas released from the north, south, east, and west corners of the truck. Over the loudspeakers, we heard "Please stay seated" in a robotic voice, before everyone started coughing. Within seconds, the entire truck full of convicts had fainted into a deep sleep.