Am I falling or flying? Powerless or mighty? Imprisoned or free? I have nothing: no possessions, no memories, no reference points or even solid ground to stand on; just falling (or is it flying?) through an endless mist. A voice beside me says this is the last free space in a world of slavery and suffering; another that it's a self-imposed prison from a world of beauty and adventure. Who should I believe? What is waiting for me out there? I make my choice and begin to discover what lies beyond the mist. "Like a science fictional Pilgrim's Progress." - D. G. D. Davidson, Sci-Fi Catholic "This...