The Last Philosopher

What, is that the question

While Herschel waited for nightfall, his multi-thoughts entertained themselves with over-thinking, mostly about the Socks and their antics leading up to his sneak-out. Until now, they'd had no interest in what the Akri guards were up to. But his planned escape turned them into a bunch of innocent snoops, and eavesdropping became a favourite pastime of the gaggle.

"With their lax attitude, you'll have plenty of options," Soc-To once said as they power-walked through the discourse yard.

"They are rather slack when it comes to the guarding," Herschel critiqued, and a part of him wanted to leave the guards a note for after he was gone. "But it should make the non-violence part easier."

"You say non-violent like you have the ability for violence."

"I could do a violence!" he joked.

"Uh-huh, sure you could. But it is interesting, do you think anyone else has ever been this concerned about how a prison break effects others?"

"Well, if it's the first time then it's my privilege to lead the way."

The mystery of why the lizards weren't much bothered about guarding, hadn't required much thinking on the subject. It was because no philosopher, from any of the gaggles, had ever tried to escape.
Regular mealtimes and a well-stocked library, meant Zig-Zig had everything its prisoners wanted. Especially since they all liked some form of the idea that freedom was nothing but an overrated illusion anyway.
The Socks prying revealed something else about the Akri. They weren't really guards, they were soldiers. What they wanted was action, guts and glory. But they were stuck here, herding old men from their screaming matches in the discourse yard to their screaming matches in the library. Another reason for them to keep the inmates at spears length.

"I should've guessed they were soldiers, with those claws, they should be stalking something fluffy through the night." He scolded himself when the big man told him the next day.

"It is overkill, but their whole vibe is fascinating, don't you think?" Soc-To asked.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, they look tailor made for violence, but they eat almost nothing but mushrooms," another tidbit the snoopers had found out. "That means they're not as bloodthirsty as they look."

The remembered conversations lit up Herschel's usual frown with the joy of contradiction. But it hadn't been all smooth sailing, just like his limited experience on the water, there was a lot of rough.
A few Socks had taken to loitering around the gate to the guard quarter. Where the lizards lingered, ignoring their duty in peace. The so-called gate was the only one out of the prison area. It was also the best place to eavesdrop, and the only way to learn anything about the guards.
At first his elderly friends treated it much like game. Giggling and scampering off like unruly children whenever one of the Akri approached the gate.

"You have to be more careful!" Soc-To had yelled at the three who were caught by the captain of the guard.

Herschel could never have shouted at someone like that, even if he could understand the need. Being Kor, with fangs and coal-black skin, the lecturing just came natural to the big man. But he never yelled without reason. Not that anyone was worried the three stooges had let anything slip. Nevertheless, the dressing down left them looking like admonished children, eyes down and hands hidden in the folds of their gowns.

"Could it be the desert, and its sandstorms, that make the lizard-men so reluctant to stray outside the prison wall?" Herschel asked himself, a detail about the guards his gaggle had never cleared up.

Hold on now, seeing as they're all female, shouldn't it be lizard-women? His objectivity interrupted.

"Sure, but with their nation's military strength, generals everywhere are sure to feel more comfortable calling them lizard-men."

And you think that's a good excuse?

"No, just saying, of course we should face reality, not avoid it like generals. But it still doesn't explain why they avoid leaving Zig-Zig."

Crouching in muck, his thoughts were drawn back to his less filthy escape options. Zig-Zig's wall had been his only real obstacle. To the untrained eye, the random rocks thrown into a long pile wasn't much of a wall at all. But a friend had told him it was built with a rare stone type called ingenious rock. Not that the info helped Herschel escape, because going over would've been a gamble. Few of the six guard-towers were ever manned. Still, it was a big risk. The guards all excelled at standing still, and in their sand-coloured leather armour it made them difficult to spot.

Waiting around must be an important skill for soldiers? Herschel's wit wondered, bringing a smile to his frowning face.

Another idea he'd considered was the docks. Like him, many of the prisoners had arrived by ship, and were brought in through the guard quarter. It was the only time any of them were allowed in the area.

But even if you could get to the docks, then what? His planning wondered.

"I could have snuck on to a ship?"

No, we ruled that out, since the only thing we know about boats is that we know nothing about boats.

"But couldn't we have found a way that didn't involve sewers?" he sighed and it almost made him retch.

Not one that has a high probability of success, and limits the risk to others. It has to look like no one else was involved!

If it wasn't for his 'trying to do the right thing,' it could've been so easy. The prisoners of Zig-Zig were the kind of old men who enjoyed reading and writing for fun. With lots of free time on their hands, they could've outsmarted the black-eyed lizards. Long spears and thick shields weren't much help in a battle of wits. Especially when the witted inmates ran the prison in most respects.

"The fact that no one wants to escape is my greatest advantage. Because the warden won't suspect it, not until I'm far away."

Herschel wanted nothing more than to explain his motive for running to the Socks. But it was too dangerous, if he infected them with his motivation, many would try to leave. That would've tipped of the guards. Herschel was convinced they were as clueless about the prison's real purpose as he and his friends. Not that he was clear on everything about the warden's plans, but he had a good idea about the what. It'd been a painful realisation, because he was the sort of person who wanted to see the good in everyone. Even so, he had no doubt that the warden's what was to imprison philosophers for some Dark purpose.

But is what even the right question? What about the hows and whys? His inner philosopher pondered.

Updated: 06.03.2024