In an effort to keep order on the base, Commander Gordon had ordered everyone to have at least one session a month with the base councilor. They were to meet with Doctor Hoffman to deal with the trauma that was witnessing the end of the world. Seeing the councilor was mandatory whenever you lost just one comrade in arms, or even a family member. So to be the sole survivors of seven billion was sure to impact the psyche of any person, and it was something that needed to be addressed to prevent stress on the base. While many of the soldiers didn't want to do it, and pretty much pissed away their sessions talking about mundane things, there were many people on base who were eager to speak with the Doctor and share their feelings about what just happened. Many people working on the base were unmarried and unattached, but they still had parents, siblings and friends back home who were all obliterated by an extinction level event. Life as they knew it would never be the same, and that alone was more than enough to warrant speaking to a mental health professional. There were over a few hundred people on the base known as Lunar One, so even if Hoffman saw ten of them a day for an hour each, it would take him close to a month to see everyone at least once, which was a daunting task for the only psychiatrist on base. Morgan really didn't want to visit the shrink, but he also didn't want to rock the boat so he reluctantly agreed. It wasn't for another six weeks after being ordered that Morgan's turn finally came up. He had honestly considered faking something like a cold, but didn't out of fear that the commander might cause a panic and toss him in the clean room. So Morgan found himself standing before the door that lead to Doctor Hoffman's office, and he softly knocked his knuckles a few times.
"It's open," a voice called out, "Come on in."
Morgan opened the door, and was immediately greeted by a man who was about the same age as his father. He walked over and offered Morgan an open hand to shake, which he did.
"Doctor Hoffman, I assume?" Morgan asked.
"Yes, but you can call me Trevor." The old man replied.
"You mean like the pitcher?" Morgan said.
"Yes, like the pitcher," Hoffman said with a smile, "I see we have a baseball fan here. Who was your favorite team?"
"I didn't really have one," Morgan replied, "I just loved watching a game every now and then."
"Did you Dad like baseball?" Hoffman inquired.
"I just got here," Morgan shot back, "Don't you think it's a tad premature to ask me about my parents?"
"I'm sensing a psych background here," the doctor retorted.
"My undergrad major was psychology," Morgan confirmed, "This is why I was hesitant to come here. I was afraid of using up time that could be used helping someone else."
"You don't think you need help?" Hoffman said with a curious look on his face. "You've just experienced a traumatic event."
"I know, I get it," Morgan said, strolling over to the seat. He slowly sat down and tried to make himself comfortable. "I'm not going to protest, just don't expect the same openness you might have gotten so far."
"That's too bad," Hoffman said as he sat across from Morgan, "Because most of the people on base are not open. They're clamming up as if they're in an enemy base and I'm here to interrogate them. Like if they reveal even the smallest amount of feelings about what happen that they're betraying someone."
"Okay," Morgan replied, "Maybe I'll be a little more open than the others. I'm not that tight lipped, I'm just not promising anything."
"You're here," Hoffman countered, "That's a good start."
"So where should we start?" Morgan asked.
"With something simple," Hoffman answered, "How are you sleeping?"
"About the same," Morgan honestly replied, "I toss about the same as I did before any of this happened. I've always been a light sleeper. Thinking there was too much to do."
"I see," Hoffman said, taking a note, "Do you always feel like you're on a clock? Like there is some cosmic deadline hanging over your head?"
"I used to," Morgan confessed, "But I don't feel that anymore. The people I used to work for, who I reported to, they're all gone. My entire reason to function and be useful is no longer relevant."
"How so?" Hoffman asked.
"I spent years studying my field, doing tests to benefit a planet that we're not going to live on anymore." Morgan got back to his feet as he was feeling restless. "That place is uninhabitable and likely will be for hundreds of years. Even if this make shift colony lasts that long, neither of us will ever set foot there ever again!"
"Not likely," Hoffman agreed, "The world as we know it is gone."
"Earth will never be the same." Morgan said, rubbing his brow.
"That's not true," Hoffman countered, "The earth will be just fine. It's taken hits like this before and recovered many times. What will never recover is the human race. Baring a miracle, our time as a species is just about up."
Morgan couldn't help but snicker at the comment.
"What was that about?" Hoffman asked.
"We went from making species endangered to becoming one ourselves." Morgan replied, still chuckling. "I find the irony is amusing."
"It is," the doctor agreed, "How do you feel about being a member of a species that is now endangered?"
"It's scary," Morgan said, "I don't like the responsibility."
"I don't get it," Hoffman replied, "What responsibility would you be referring to; the duty to protect the human race from extinction?"
"Yeah," Morgan said, tossing his hands up, "I only wanted to be here for six months. I didn't sign up to be one of the last men standing. I never really wanted to have kids, and now that decision seems to be taken out of my hands."
"Believe it or not, but someone thought about this long before you came to the moon," Hoffman said, gesturing Morgan to sit back down.
"What do you mean?" Morgan asked, sitting back down on the chair.
"There's a reason why there are as many women on Lunar One as there are men," Hoffman started to explain, "People far smarter than us decided to make sure there was an even split just in case the world ended while we were up here. I doubt they were thinking about a killer asteroid, but they were taking precautions in case something else happened, like world war three. We're not exercising some massive act of gender equality up here; someone thought of this ahead of time as a precaution."
"I see," Morgan said, thinking about it, "So if we don't make it, it won't be because we didn't have the tools and the manpower to make it happen."
"Precisely," Doctor Hoffman concurred.
"That is quite smart," Morgan said, thinking about it. "That would also explain why there are animals up here too, like a modern day ark."
"That's also correct," Hoffman said, impressed with his deductions.
"What did you leave behind?" Morgan countered, "Did you have a spouse on Earth. Kids?"
"An ex-wife," the doctor replied, "No kids though. Was never in the cards for us, and in the end I guess that was a lucky break."
"I never married," Morgan confessed, "Just a niece who I spoke with before it all ended."
"You did?" Hoffman said, sitting up. "How did you pull that off?"
"Rogers and I made a few calls," Morgan explained, "We were within range when we went to the international space station."
"So you were the one who was with Rogers for the rescue mission," Hoffman said, leaning back into his chair. "That must have been a real bind for you, speaking to family unable to warn them of what was to come."
"It was," Morgan confessed, "But there was no point telling them. That asteroid hit land, which means they never stood a chance. They're all dead."
"How does that make you feel?" Hoffman asked.
"Honesty, I feel frustrated." Morgan answered, "I wanted to see my niece grow up, graduate, get married. I feel cheated of what were good moments that were to come."
"You still have a chance," Hoffman corrected, "Lunar One might not be perfect, but you might find someone special, get married or even have a child. We'll need everyone to pitch in if we are to survive a species."
"Good comeback," Morgan observed.
"Doesn't change the fact that I'm right," the doctor fired back.
"No, it doesn't," Morgan said, thinking about it. "Have you considering doing other forms of counseling?"
"Such as?" the doctor asked.
"Group therapy." Morgan answered.
"That's not a bad idea," Doctor Hoffman said, scribbling down a note. "Since you have a degree in psychology, would you be willing to run one of these groups to ease my already heavy schedule?"
"I would," Morgan replied, "anything to be of service. It would also be a welcome distraction from the situation."
"There's also the base meeting next month," Hoffman reminded him, "Do you plan to make any proposals?"
"I'm thinking about it," Morgan admitted, "You'll have to wait and see."
"I look forward to it," Doctor Hoffman said, as he stood up and offered Morgan his hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you Doctor Taylor, but it seems our time is up. I look forward to our next session."
"I was hesitant to come here at all," Morgan told him, shaking Hoffman's hand. "But now I'm looking forward to it as well."
"Thank you for coming," the doctor said as he watched Morgan leave the room before sitting down and jotting a few more notes before prepping for his next scheduled appointment.