A researcher had been extremely curious and wanted to know why humans were, well, the way they were. They poured over notes, histories, field reports, everything they could get their hands on. The humans that volunteered for experiments were always told "You can call it quits at any time." And, after a while, the humans always let him know when they'd had enough. To which he'd thank them, pay them and let them know his immense gratitude for their hard work, and go through the notes of his findings, sharing with them, of course, everything he had.
But it was never enough.
Finally, he decided to take a big gamble and live on Earth for a while to find out just WHY humans were the way they were. He was only able to talk about his time there after years of therapy, and a companion at his side to help him get through the flashbacks. -- Anon Guest
"You woke up screaming again. What was it this time? The exoskeletal ones?"
"Yeah. The tiny ones. Beetles. Spiders. The ones those Deathworlders call 'bugs'. Too many of them everywhere. Crawling all over everything. Leaving those... little dots. Everywhere. They were all over me. Scritchy scratchy little claw feet, all over my skin."
"Was this a thing that happened? The insects everywhere?"
"Once. Yes. They called it... a locust swarm. I know they're edible, but... they blotted out the sun. There were too many of them. And then... they started... they were..."
"Deep breaths. You are safe now. You are far from the Deathworld. They cannot fly to reach you here."
"Can I check the environment filters again? I need to make sure."
Therapist Naer nodded, and accompanied Paan for their tour of the secure facility. It was a sterile place, with clean lines and even cleaner surfaces. There was nothing alive there that had come from Earth. Everything was carefully selected and cleared with Paan before it was allowed to enter the area.
This, too, was one of Paan's rituals. The environment was kept clean with machines, rather than the organic solution that was the Cleaners. It was the same with pest control. Discrete devices controlled any unwanted life forms, rather than the Alliance standard of Skitties.
Only approved, and clearly harmless organic life was permitted in this region because step one of recovering from a trauma was the creation of a safe space. Once safety was fully established, it was up to patient and therapist to create a path back to accepted normalcy and life within it.
Paan was still establishing safety. It had taken hir months to mention hir terrors without stuttering, stammering, or otherwise encountering difficulty in speaking. Progress was not entirely linear, and some things about that could not be avoided, like the crawling nightmare.
Naer helped with accessing the filters and the vents and the sticky tabs that marked each and every checked vent. Once Paan was certain all was safe, it was back to the clean lounge with its pristine surfaces and no possible nooks or crannies for vermin to hide in.
"Any ideas about the cause of the nightmares, this time?"
"There's nothing that comes to mind," said Paan. "Everything is smooth. There's no scratching, nothing that feels like prickling or crawling. The bed's designed so I don't cut off any of my circulation... I think... I think my brain just expects them, now."
A fan in the circulation system activated, and created a near-subliminal noise. Almost exactly the same sound as the scratching of insects at close range. Paan froze, breath shuddering.
"It's a fan," said Naer. "Listen for how regular and inorganic it is. This is an artificial sound. You can say it too. I am leaving a message for maintenance, so it will be fixed. This is an artificial sound. It is a sound made by a machine."
Paan joined in for the second repetition. Mostly. "...artificial sound... machine..."
The scratchy fan immediately de-activated as it was flagged for repair, and the subtle scratching noise ceased.
"This is controlled. You are safe. You are far away from danger. We have controlled the problem."
"...safe... c-controlled. Safe." Paan's breath steadied. "It was just a fan. A mechanical device. We controlled it."
One day, Paan would be ready for things beyond hir control. Until then, Naer would be working to help hir.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / pinan_chantragongit]
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