Nightmares

Ilsa Kellerman was nervous as she walked up to the science lab with Gabriel Alphonse at her side. She carried with her a tablet that had her briefing notes on it and had spent the past half-hour rereading them.

Alphonse too looked serious. The consummate professional, he likewise had prepared for this briefing and was concerned about the outcome. The hollow clunk of their feet on the metal floors was the only sound as they strode to the lab and entered. The lab was quiet. Alphonse walked up to the office and knocked on the door.

“Come on it,” came Dayton’s voice from behind the door. The two did so and sat at the offered chairs in front of her desk. “So, what can I do for you guys?”

“We made this appointment as medical staff, to discuss some crew welfare issues that we feel compelled to bring up with you Tara,” Alphonse began. “First thing, I have some concerns about Mister Hermann.”

“Concerns? Like what,” Dayton asked.

“The healing process I feel will be tough and the timeline granted for his recovery is frankly, too short,” Alphonse explained.

“He’s doing well but the damage involved is severe,” added Kellerman. “I’ve been working with him, and once he’s out of the bandages and cast we’re going to be doing physiotherapy with him, but we both, independently, came to concerns about the timelines.”

“Exactly what Ilsa says,” agreed Alphonse, “he is lucky to even have a hand at all after that grievous injury and I can’t say how much mobility, frankly, he’ll ever get back.”

“I see,” said Dayton, nodding gravely. “It’s your discretion, Gabe. You’re his doctor, and in charge of his recovery, so alter the timelines at will but do keep me informed.”

“I expect at least four months before any physical work is possible, but yes, we will keep you informed,” Alphonse agreed. “There is another matter, a delicate one.”

“I see,” Dayton said slowly, “what is it?”

“It’s about population control,” Alphonse said heavily. “I, we, are medical staff and as such subject to the patient confidentiality, so I will not be revealing who asked for this.”

“Asked for what,” Dayton asked impatiently.

“Asked when and if the birth control implant can be removed,” Kellerman said.

“As you know,” Alphonse carried on from Kellerman, “the entire crew has an implant that makes us unable to reproduce because of the housing, medical, and space limitations.”

“Yes yes,” Dayton said, “and someone has asked to have it deactivated? That’s earlier than I anticipated.”

“Yes. Now we know this cannot happen right away, and we told the patient as such, but we’d like to be able to assure them that it is going to happen eventually,” Alphonse said.

“Yes, I understand. It can’t happen today as you said, but you can tell the patient yes, soon,” Dayton told the medics.

“Soon? OK,” Kellerman said, a little surprised. They’d expected so much more pushback than this.

“Yes, soon we’ll be establishing our new base, and ahead of schedule,” Dayton explained, “I just gave the orders to scout out the new location and so, sooner than planned, we may have a home with space and more settlers to join us. I’ll make the final decision, but you can tell them soon,” she reiterated.

“I’m… honestly, Tara, surprised,” Alphonse said, sounding relieved.

“Heh, look,” Dayton explained, “I don’t want kids running around this place right now, but standing between people and their reproductive choices has basically never been a good idea, if I’m being honest. I’d rather we just let whomever it is have their way as soon as doable. It’ll cause major discontent if we spend all our time stopping people from having babies.”

“I agree,” Kellerman said. She’d told Alphonse before the meeting that Dayton might be more responsive than he expected, and she sent a significant ‘I told you so’ glance his direction.

“Like I said, it won’t be tomorrow, but it’ll happen soon OK,” Dayton assured the medical staff, who both nodded. “Is there something else I can help you with guys?”

“No I um, that’s all good,” Alphonse said, standing, “we’ll get out of your hair.”

“Come back anytime you two, I appreciate this,” Dayton said as the medics excused themselves. They headed back out of the science lab and down the hallway back to the clinic.

“I can’t believe how easy that was,” chuckled Alphonse when they were out of earshot.

“I can,” Kellerman giggled.

“Yeah you did say she’d be receptive, nodded Alphonse. Woman’s intuition?”

“Something like that,” Kellerman agreed. “Don’t be too sure all the same though.”

“Why,” Alphonse asked, wrinkling his brow.

“Oh it’s just Tara is… well she’s slippery right,” Kellerman told him.

“You don’t think she lied about this do you,” Alphonse asked, seeming surprised by the idea. Kellerman sniggered at his lack of guile.

“No but like, it’s possible,” she explained, “you know, not like she lied but what if she said, ‘sure sure we’ll do that’ to get us out of there you know?”

“Maybe,” Alphonse said hesitantly.

“I’m not exactly trusting of superiors,” Kellerman said, “the army has not been kind to my notions of authority.” Alphonse nodded, thinking about it for a while, then changed the subject.

“How are you after… last night?”

Kellerman didn’t want to talk about last night at all. In fact, there were few things she wanted to talk about less than ‘last night.’

“I’m fine,” she said curtly.

“You’re not fine,” Alphonse said as they entered the clinic. “You woke up screaming.”

Kellerman nodded but said nothing. It was one of the worst nightmares she’d experienced since she joined the Green Mars project, and it was still haunting her waking hours. The nightmare itself she could barely remember, but the fear stuck with her, along with the intense sensation of being trapped in the dream, like she was unable to wake.

Hans Hermann was in his bed in the clinic, his eyes half open when the two walked in. His arm was still swaddled in bandaging and Kellerman took the opportunity to distract herself by heading over to inspect his dressings.

“Hello Ilsa, how are you,” Hermann asked sleepily. His eyes were like two tiny pinpricks from the hydromorphone in his system.

“Gut gut,” Kellerman said, switching to German while she explained that she would check his bandages. He was healing well, as expected, and the frost bite was looking better than it had in a while. She had been very worried that the frostbite and barotrauma would make him extremely **** to infection and was happy to see notable improvements in the healing. With Hermann rebandaged, she headed to the clinic office and looked back to see that Hermann had already nodded off. Alphonse’s serious face told her that she wouldn’t escape talking about the dreams.

“It’s getting worse Ilsa, you know that,” he said somberly when Kellerman sat down. She nodded. “I’m worried.”

“You don’t need to worry about me Gabe,” she tried to assure him, placing her hand in his. “Last night was fucked up but I’ll… I’ll be OK. It was just a dream.”

“Ilsa,” Alphonse said and sighed heavily, “you have PTSD. The hypervigilance, the twitchiness, the nightmares. You almost clocked me a few nights ago.” Kellerman nodded, remembering the time that Alphonse had surprised her in the hallway. She remembered his shocked expression seeing her fist, raised and ready.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“It’s nothing to be sorry for my dear,” Alphonse said. Kellerman recognized pain in his eyes as he spoke, “it’s… I want you to be OK you see?”

“I’m not going to be OK Gabe,” she burst out, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m broken and fucked up!”

“Ilsa…” Alphonse said heavily, “that’s not true! You’re not broken or damaged or bad, you’re just traumatized. It’s OK and we’ll get you through it one day at a time. Alright?” Kellerman nodded. “I don’t have antidepressants but…”

“I don’t want pills,” she interrupted.

“It’s fine I was about to say it is not an option really, but I do have another idea,” Alphonse said.

“What is it,” Kellerman asked. She felt hopeless and broken, but somewhere along the way, it made her feel good that he cared.

“Head to the botany hall with me,” Alphonse said. He checked on Hermann to make sure he was sleeping, then turned to beckon Kellerman along. “We can leave him for a few minutes; he is doing well.”

The two walked without speaking down the hall to the long warm hall. When the arrived, they saw the three green clad botanists working on their respective projects. Alphonse said something to Carson that Kellerman couldn’t hear, and he beckoned the two medics to follow him.

“Here’s the good stuff,” Carson said when they got to the end of the hall. There were dozens of cannabis plants of various sizes and life stages there, and they smelled wonderful. Carson pulled a small reusable bag from one of the shelves and handed it to Alphonse.

“This is the medical supply,” he asked.

“If by medical, you mean I handed it to the medics, then yeah it is,” he said opaquely. “It’s a nice mellow indica. Good for chilling. Great for sleep.”

“Thank you Lyndon,” Alphonse said, then turning to Kellerman, added “we have the gear.”

“Your plan is… weed,” she asked with surprise as they walked back to the clinic.

“It is yes,” Alphonse explained. “One of the athletes I worked with was from Iraq. Great player, suffered from terrible nightmares. I wouldn’t say it fixed his problems, but he was better for it mentally. It was after he retired when I got to talking to him about it. Testing you see.”

Kellerman nodded. When they got back to the clinic, she checked on Hermann to find him still enjoying his medicated sleep, and so Alphonse beckoned her to the clinic office and shut the door behind her.

“They never **** tested the trainer though,” he beamed, pulling a pipe out of the bag. He grabbed a jar of shredded cannabis and began packing the small pipe with it, then lit the end and handed it to Kellerman. She took the pipe and took a long, deep haul.

“That’s pret…” she began before breaking into a massive coughing fit.

“Ha, yes I was about to warn you,” giggled Alphonse, who took a hit and promptly coughed too. “Merde, this harsh, or my tolerance is gone.”

“You, (cough), used to use I guess,” rasped Kellerman, who took a much smaller, more tentative puff.

“Yes,” Alphonse gasped, “the players were regularly tested for **** but their trainer was not.”

“They must have been jealous,” Kellerman responded.

“I never did it with players around,” Alphonse said, taking another hit, “the second-hand smoke, but also because it would be tempting to them and I didn’t want to cause the team to lose one to something as unnecessary as a **** test.”

“Wait,” gasped Kellerman, “should we both be smoking right now? We have a patient.”

“He’ll be alright for today,” Alphonse began before breaking into a giggling laugh. Kellerman joined in laughing at their own unprofessionalism.

“We’re the worst,” she laughed, having another smoke.

“Hans owes us a quiet night,” Alphonse said with a grin. The two medics smoked and joked in their little office until dinner when, red-eyed and silly, they staggered out, followed by a cloud of grey smoke.

“That smells delightful,” came the sleepy voice of Hermann from the bed.

“Oh shit Gabe, we’re caught,” Kellerman said gravely before breaking into a giggling fit.

“Don’t be mad Hans, we just like the smell,” said Alphonse in a faux-serious voice before he too broke into giggles.

The two medics and their differently-stoned patient made their way to the dining hall for dinner. They joked, laughed and ate more than either medic had in ages. Afterwards, they settled Hermann back into his bed and headed back to the clinic office.

“You enjoy it this time, there is not so much for recreational use,” Alphonse said when Kellerman offered him more pot. She smoked it eagerly, reveling in the feeling of lightness that came with it. They didn’t discuss the night before again for the rest of the night.

“You want to come to my place tonight,” Kellerman asked before bed. Usually such a request was the preamble for sex, but this time it was his company that she wanted. When they undressed and got into bed, she held him close against her body. For the first time in too long, she wasn’t afraid when she closed her eyes and let sleep take hold.