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“So, before the accident, you were happy to fly. No fear at all?”
I look at him uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t say that, no.”
He twiddles his fingers and waits.
“Well, I’ve always been a nervous flyer. It’s not something I ever enjoyed, but after the accident, I couldn’t set foot on a drone again without getting awful nausea.”
“I see. And you think the accident was the cause.”
“It seems to follow, don’t you think?”
“It could be entirely coincidental.”
“You think?”
“I can’t say for sure, only that it could be.”
“If it is coincidental, then why was I able to get on a drone before it happened, but afterward I couldn’t.”
“Perhaps the accident provided you with the perfect excuse to avoid doing something you always feared doing.”
“You think I’m using the accident as an excuse?”
He puts his hands up placatingly. “Wyatt, take a moment to look at this rationally. You tell me that you have always been fearful of flying, then you have a drone accident, after which, you no longer feel able to fly. Is it not also possible that a subconscious part of your mind seized on this event as a way to no longer have to do this fearful thing?”
“If it’s an unconscious thing, then it’s not under my control.”
“Yes and no.”
I look at him sceptically. “Please explain.”
“If you had no control over your actions, Wyatt, then you wouldn’t be here, wanting to overcome this fear. To a certain extent, you do have control. You have the motor skills to put one foot in front of the other. Physically, you can get into a drone; it is eminently doable.”
Said foot starts tapping the floor agitatedly.
“But having said that,” he continues, “it seems clear that you had a fear of flying long before the accident happened, and that fear is something that has felt beyond your control.”
“Exactly,” I say, “which is why I’m here.”
“Why are you here, Wyatt?”
At my puzzled look, he clarifies. “Why now, after so many years, are you intent on overcoming this fear?”
“I—”
The words won’t come out. Dwight C. Josephs watches me silently, waiting.
“I lost the woman I love.”
Still, he doesn’t speak, but just waits.
“She’s leading our Earth mission to Krovatia. My ex-wife’s name is Melinda Garcia.”
“I see.”
“She wanted me to go with her, but I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”
