A Fold in Time

[Amanda Davis PhD 0]

A Fold in Time
Amanda Davis, MD (Psychiatry)
Sky Harbor Aegis

Amanda Davis clutched her teacup and reread the patients’ data on her PADD.  Most of the crew from RSE Ma’ev had been released from sickbay, and the few remaining were recovering nicely— except for some who were suffering from severe anxiety, fear, and depression.  Most of those who were struggling with psychological trauma were fairly young and inexperienced, brought aboard to replace the many who were lost in the the devastation of ch’Rihan.  Considering their youth, their inexperience, the anxiety, fear, and depression, Amanda believed that their psychological problems stemmed from experiencing the temporal fold.  In essence, their minds were struggling with an extended reliving of the same experience ad infinitum.

Her eyes closed into an extended sigh, then she leaned her forehead against one hand and paged through notes with the other. 

“Amanda?”

Startled, her head jerked up to see Dr. Stone’s concerned expression. “Oh.  Jeremy.  Thank goodness.” She relaxed and waved him into a chair. 

“You look… exhausted?  Frustrated?”  he said, slipping into the chair opposite, then corralling cream and sugar set for his coffee.

“Oh, yes. Both.  And very concerned.”

He nodded.  “Can I help?”

“Well, yes.  If you know how to treat Time Perception.”

“Time Perception. The Ma’ev’s crew?”

“Then you do know.”  Amanda’s mood changed instantly. She stared at him for a minute as a grin took form while he added a drop of cream and began to stir.  

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Jeremy. Of course.  You specialize in deep space trauma! How could I ever forget. I should have come to you at the very first.  Please… do tell.”

After a double-tap of his spoon on the mug and a long first sip, he looked up.  “Are we talking about classic or otherwise?”

“Well, I’m not sure. It certainly seems classic.”

“Anxiety? Fear? Depression? Paranoia?”

“Oh, my, yes.”  She passed her PADD and he paged through it while he drank.  

“Hm…. these are the patients I’ve been watching.” He returned the PADD and relaxed in his chair. “The best thing you can do at this point is to sit, listen, and counsel.  Their brain scans show a disruption in the communication lines from cerebral cortex, cerebellum, and basal ganglia.  An engineer would say that the ODN lines are tangled and crossed.  Until they’re… uncrossed, either by counseling or mild medication, their circadian rhythm and ultradian timekeeping will try to make sense separately and might even try to fight each other.”

“And when that happens? When they fight each other?”

“Oh, any number of things.” He took a sip, then scooted her PADD around, tapped a few sections, then turned it back to a list entitled Temporal Illusions.  “Telescoping—thinking that recent events happened long ago and vice versa; overestimating short intervals and underestimating longer intervals; loud or high pitched sounds seeming to last longer than normal sounds.  But some of those are normal, not necessarily caused by trauma.  Excessive fear, empathy, depression, and the like—those are often trauma.”

Amanda sat for a moment, then refilled her teacup as she asked,  “And what do you know of temporal folds?”

“Hey Amanda,” he laughed. “I’m a doctor, not a scientist. Why do you ask?”

“Because….” She returned the pot and waited for his full attention.  “The Adriatic is on its way to investigate the temporal fold, and I don’t believe that they realize what they’re getting into.  Please excuse me, Jeremy.  I’m going to talk to Dr. Pavilion.”