On the screen was Beka, sitting on the floor. The camera was in the ceiling, so you couldn’t see her face, but she was hunched up, dragging a knife across her arm, sometimes sharply, sometimes more softly, letting blood run down as she whimpered softly. She made strange movements as if she was trying to get away from the knife, but kept coming back with it.
“So it wasn’t Tyr,” Harper concluded disbelivingly. He hadn’t wanted to believe this could be true. It was…it had been the best explanation, it being Tyr. It would have been easier to fix. This was…strange. He couldn’t understand it.
“Andromeda,” Dylan addressed the ship, “I thought you said she wasn’t lying?” The image of Beka disappeared, for which they were all thankful, and Andromeda appeared on the screen instead.
“Scans show she is not lying,” she replied, “but there is a difference between not lying and telling the truth. I do not believe she is doing the latter.” Dylan frowned.
“How does that work? Either she’s lying, or she’s telling the truth. From what we see on the video she’s lying. How does this work?”
“I believe she thinks she’s telling the truth. If you look closely at the video it appears almost as if she’s trying to get away from her own hand. It seems there are almost two people inside her; the right arm is chasing the left. I believe she thinks someone else is doing it to her.”
“But…how?” Harper asked.
“Hallucinations, most likely,” Rommie concluded. “It seems her mental and emotional state is even worse than we thought.”
“So who is this someone else?”
“I don’t know that, Harper. Most likely, she doesn’t even know.”
“Maybe it would be best to talk to her?” Dylan suggested. Trance looked awkward.
“That hasn’t gone too well this far,” she said, “but I suppose there is nothing else to do than to keep trying. Maybe if I can get some more information out of her I can diagnose the condition better and decide on a form of treatment.”
“What sort of condition do you think it could be?”
“It very much depends,” the medic admitted. “I can’t tell yet. That she’s hurting herself indicates depression and BPD. If she’s unable to resist someone in her head telling her to do it, that indicates OCD or schizophrenia, depending on how bad it is, if she really thinks someone else is doing it and not just making her do it, which seems most likely now, it could be a combination of schizophrenia and manic depression. Either way, it’s a psychotic disease that needs treatment, medical as well as therapeutical.” She looked at the others’ faces, all looking completely blank, with the exception of Andromeda.
“Translation, please?” Harper said eventually. Trance gave him a small smile.
“Schizophrenia…it could mean several things. It could mean she hears or sees things that aren’t real, she could have mood swings to the point where she switches suddenly to a different personality. This has been observed in cases where there seems to be several people living inside one body, taking turns to be in charge. I need more information though, Harper, before I can say anything else.”
“Why don’t you wake her up?” Dylan said suddenly. “We can’t just keep putting it off. She’s not going to wake up one day and be perfectly fine, is she? We need to find out what happened, once and for all.” With lips pursed in concentration and determination, Trance nodded and walked over to the bed where she decisively pressed the injector to Beka’s neck. She opened her eyes and blinked a few times.
“I…what’s going on?” she whispered. She seemed calmer now than she had been before, and though Trance was happy about that, she threw a nervous glance at the others, unsure of whether she would suddenly switch.
“It’s ok Beka,” she soothed, deciding not to confront her just yet. “You just needed to go to medbay for a bit. You weren’t very well.” Beka frowned as she slowly sa up.
“The glass…you were asking me about my arms…oh my god! You asked…you saw…” Worried Beka was going to flip again, Trance gently put a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “we know it wasn’t your fault.” Beka seemed to relax somewhat.
“But it is Trance,” she said in a melancholical tone of voice. “It’s all my fault.” Trance frowned.
“Beka, what do you mean? It’s not your fault, whatever’s happening to you, it’s not your fault.”
“What is happening to me, Trance?” she asked in a fearful voice.
“We don’t quite know yet, but I’d love you to tell me how you’re feeling, and I’m sure I’ll be able to help you.” Beka suddenly grabbed her head, much like she had before, and pulled her knees up against her chest, whimpering and rocking slowly. “What’s happening now Beka?” Trance asked, stroking her back gently.
“I can’t…no…no you won’t…I can’t, I can’t tell…have to be quiet…”
“Beka, what’s going on? Please tell me what you’re feeling.”
“I have to…have to stay…” Her words became muddled and rushed, as if she was merely whispering to herself, but nothing coherent came out of it. Trance looked helplessly at the others, but was determined. This time she would not rat out by sedating her again. They’d get through it.
