SO QUIET

            Smith sat uncomfortably at the campfire that Robinson and West had prepared. He didn't like being alone with the two men. He wished that he had been allowed to remain with the others at the Jupiter II, but the men had required him to accompany them, so that they could keep an eye on him. They were convinced that he would cause mischief if left behind with the women and children.

            Robinson sat on a log to Smith's left, and West perched on a different log which was perpendicular to the first log. Smith sat directly on the ground.

            The two younger men conversed quietly and comfortably throughout the evening.

            The older man sat brooding, just as he had mostly done for the entirety of the day, since leaving the ship with the men via the chariot in the early morning. For a while, he looked up, contemplating the stars, but at length, he drew up his knees, rested his hands upon them, and lay his head on his hands, eyes closed.

            Presently, Smith felt a slight poke at his left shoulder. He started slightly, turned, and saw Robinson staring at him. Tamping down slight anxiety, he acknowledged, "Yes, Professor?"

            "Why are you so quiet today?"

            Smith tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, but his nervousness showed, and West demanded, "What are you up to, Smith?"

            "Nothing!" Smith's resentment at the question came across clearly, but so did his sincerity. "It's not like that!"

            Robinson encouraged, "All right. But you've been unusually quiet all day. Something must be bothering you."

            Smith looked back at him plaintively. "You'll laugh at me."

            Sure enough, West bore a slight smirk in response, just at the suggestion, but Robinson assured Smith, "Well, we'll try not to." He urged amiably, "Come on, now, out with it."

            Smith squirmed in place uneasily, and then admitted softly, "I had a horrible nightmare last night, back at the ship, and I just can't shake it. It's been tormenting me all day."

            "Oh?" Robinson asked in concern, "What was it about?"

            Smith eyed both of them warily. "It was about you two."

            "Us?" Robinson's brows rose in surprise.

            Smith nodded wordlessly.

            "What'd we do?" West demanded.

            Smith shifted in place again. "You were both very...very angry with me." He waited for them to draw the inevitable conclusion, looking from one to the other.

            "Oh!" Robinson clearly realized.

            West started to chuckle. "And we clobbered you??"

            Smith eyed him. "You were about to...."

            "But...?"

            "I screamed and woke myself up."

            As expected, West let out a louder laugh, but Robinson asked gently, "What had you done, to make us that angry?"

            Smith looked down and away from them. "I don't know. I didn't dream that part. I never do." He cut himself off guiltily, wishing that he hadn't revealed that last part.

            Robinson asked kindly, "Then, this is a recurring nightmare?"

            Smith nodded, slightly abashed.

            "And we never get to go through with it?" West demanded. "Hey, that's too bad!"

            Smith winced, and Robinson looked sympathetic, after shooting West a slightly chastising look.

            "How often do you have these nightmares about us?" Robinson wondered.

            Smith leaned back against Robinson's log and thought. "Oh, ...about twice a month, I'd guess. Thereabouts."

            Robinson grunted, unpleasantly surprised, and said, "Smith, honestly, we never meant to have that effect on you."

            "Thanks," he answered softly. Then, he elaborated, "You two are so scary! Don't get me wrong, when you two fight off dangerous aliens, I'm grateful; you're protecting the rest of us, after all. But, seeing that...always upsets me, because it makes me wonder...." He couldn't make himself finish.

            So, Robinson finished for him, "...Makes you wonder how bad it hurts?"

            Smith nodded wordlessly.

            West offered, "We'll be glad to show you." He grinned.

            Smith cringed and gave him a wounded look. "Not 'wonder' in the sense of wanting to know, but 'wonder' in the sense of dreading to find out."

            West subsided, and even looked semi-sympathetic.

            "Honestly, Smith," Robinson remarked. "You may be worrying about something that'll never even happen."

            "Oh, I fervently hope that it never will! But, given our past, and the number of times that you've each threatened me, I fear that it may be nearly inevitable." Smith eyed them, and said carefully, "Now, no offense, and I'm certainly not trying to start an argument, but, Major, I really do believe that you have a sadistic streak, especially toward me."

            West's brows rose briefly, but then he admitted, "I suppose I do."

            "And, Professor, I know that there's no sadism in you, but you are very stern, strict, and relentless, once you've made up your mind. I've seen it in your interactions with your children, and in your interactions with me."

            Robinson nodded concurrence.

            After a slight pause, Smith mused, "I think that if you two ever really...did...that...to me, ...I think you would likely kill me."

            West misunderstood. "No! We wouldn't be that vicious with you."

            Smith clarified, "I didn't mean that any viciousness would be required. I meant that I expect that I would be rather...easy to kill. Accidentally, perhaps."

            Robinson reassured him, "No, we wouldn't kill you accidentally, either. We'd be careful."

            "I wonder if you realize how fragile I am."

            "I think we have a pretty good idea." Robinson smiled, but without rancor.

            "I think so, too," West agreed, smothering a smirk.

            "Then, I might just...die of fright."

            Robinson reached and patted him on the shoulder. "No, you wouldn't die of fright."

            West chuckled again and shook his head.

            "I'd be willing to wager that neither of you has ever had a phobia," Smith speculated. "Well, I do. And you two are it." Suddenly, he came up short, and eyed them worriedly. "Umm, no offense intended."

            "None taken," Robinson assured him.

            "Phobia, huh?" West frowned slightly at the thought.

            Smith nodded wordlessly. Then he continued, "You can't imagine how scary it was, leaving the ship with you two this morning, after a nightmare like that. I desperately wanted to remain behind with the others. I'm afraid of being out here alone with you two like this."

            Robinson speculated, "That's probably why you had that nightmare last night: knowing that Don and I were bringing you with us this morning."

            "Yes. I imagine that's true." Then, he turned to face them in earnest. "Please! It must never happen! You must never really do that to me!! Please!!! Say you wouldn't!"

            Robinson eyed him steadily. "Now you know we can never promise you anything like that."

            "Not given your behavior," West agreed.

            Smith sighed heavily, and rested his suddenly weary head on Robinson's knee. Then he started up abruptly, and said timidly, "If you don't mind."

            "No, it's all right." Robinson waved rueful permission.

            Gingerly, Smith settled back down again. That angle faced him toward West, who sat hunched forward, watching him quizzically. Gradually, Smith's eyes spent more time closed than open, until West suggested kindly, "Time to turn in, Smith?"

            "Yes, Major. Yes, perhaps I'd better." The older man raised his head, nodded appreciation to a gently smiling Robinson, and crawled over to his sleeping bag. He drifted away in minutes. And for quite a few moments, they sat watching him sleep.

            "He seriously fears us," Robinson marveled.

            "Yeah. I didn't realize it was that bad."

            "I don't know about you, but I never meant to do that to him."

            "No. No, not really. Much as I get a kick out of making him squirm, I never meant to traumatize him."

            Presently, Smith began to twitch fitfully. He grimaced and moaned, and his head rolled back and forth unsteadily. Then, the murmuring began.

            "No...No!...Don't!"

            "Oh my," mumbled Robinson.

            West sighed.

            "Please!" (At least, they assumed that that was what he'd said; the "s" was missing in Smith's gasping fitfulness. However, it fit the context). "No! Major! No!"

            West groaned. "Should we wake him?"

            "Professor! No! No!!! Don't hurt...! Don't!!"

            "I guess," Robinson agreed. He was just beginning to rise, when Smith screamed and sat up abruptly, and then gasped dramatically. Then, he sagged, and muttered, "Not again." Next, he obviously, suddenly remembered where he was, turned stricken eyes to Robinson and West, and gasped again, followed by a hushed, "I'm sorry! Did I wake you??!"

            "No," Robinson told him gently, sadly. "We weren't asleep."

            "Geez, Smith!" said West. "Is it always like this??"

            Still breathless, Smith gasped, "Uh huh," while nodding. Then, clearly worn out, he again rested his head and arms on his quickly-raised knees, and sat groaning.

            "Smith." Robinson said carefully, "Don't be afraid. We're coming over."

            The older man's head rose quickly, and he watched them, wide-eyed, but their slow, deliberate movements clearly reassured him at least somewhat; at least they kept him from panicking. However, Smith self-protectively lay back down flat on his back, never taking his eyes off of them. When they stood directly above him, he seemed to try to squirm deeper into the ground, which was clearly impossible, but he tried nevertheless.

            "What are you going to do?" he whispered.

            "Don't be frightened. We're not going to hurt you," Robinson said very kindly, as he bent slowly, knelt by the shuddering Smith, slid his arms under the older man, and lifted him up to hold him close, just as he would one of his own children.

            This unexpected tenderness unleashed a torrent of tears of fright and of relief. Smith clung to him, sobbing. Then, he gradually became aware that West was sitting on the other side of him, rubbing his back comfortingly. Smith whimpered, "You two are...so scary...when you're angry!" He hiccupped, and went on unsteadily, "I...don't know how to cope...when you make me panic!"

            Robinson and West then shared a very long intense look between them, that Smith could tell was significant, but that he was entirely lost to understand.

            Robinson actually took Smith's hand in his, as he spoke slowly and carefully. "Smith, Don and I were talking about this unreasoning terror of yours, while you were sleeping. Before your nightmare tonight began. We are convinced that your extreme fear of this, of being beaten by us, is wildly exaggerated. Being hit like that is...just not as horrible as you clearly think that it is. We wish for a way to...reduce your level of fear."

            Smith's eyes intensely held those of Robinson. He stammered, "I...wouldn't have thought that you two...wanted my fear of you reduced. We all know that you...use it to control me."

            Robinson continued ruefully, "I'm not suggesting that you wouldn't still be frightened. Our threats would still serve as a more than adequate deterrent...or punishment."

            Smith gulped hard but said nothing.

            West said, "What we are saying is that, this level of fright isn't realistic, and it isn't healthy for you. We hate to see you...in this extreme level of terror."

            Robinson went on, "We also hate to see you enduring these nightmares. Especially so often."

            Smith requested, "May I show you something?"

            Robinson nodded.

            "May I have your hand?"

            Robinson extended it, and Smith took it, and led it to his chest, where he pressed the Professor's palm against his chest, directly over his heart.

            Smith said, "This is what I'm enduring, just from you two talking like this."

            "My god, Smith!" Robinson was badly shocked. "Your heart-rate is out of control!"

            "May I?" requested West. When Smith nodded, he placed his own hand where Robinson's had been. "Oh!  Jeez!" West exclaimed.

            Smith stammered, "I'm...not even sure what you're leading up to, and yet, this is how afraid of you I am."

            Robinson steeled himself and went on, "We think it's unfortunate that you've never...experienced being struck by a fist. We're pretty sure that if you ever had been, you would agree with us that it is just not worth this level of terror."

            Smith went starkly pale. "If...you're...suggesting...what I think you're suggesting...!"

            Robinson said firmly, "Now we're not threatening you! We're offering, not threatening."

            Smith's eyes darted rapidly between the two men. "No.... No!!!"

            "Now take it easy!" West insisted. "We think it would truly be for your own good. We think it would put a stop to these nightmares."

            Robinson added, "Nightmares that could be life-threatening! Your 'fear of the unknown' needs to become the 'known'."

            Smith sat so quietly, trembling so badly, that the two younger men worried anew for his well-being.

            Robinson repeated, "We're not threatening you. We're not forcing you." At least somewhat giving-up on what now seemed a hopeless suggestion, he took Smith again into his arms and held him. West recommenced rubbing Smith's back. For some time, they sat like that, the older man's breathing alarmingly unsteady.

            After quite a while, Smith slowly sat back from Robinson, and again took the younger man's hand in his. Smith's own was shaking, but his breathing was a bit more even, and he spoke very slowly and distinctly. "I must be very clear so that you gentlemen understand me."

            Both regarded him intently.

            His pace slowed still more. "Even...if...I...agreed...with everything that you have just said, even if I...were sure that you were right, I could never...never...have the courage to...say...yes." He eyed them significantly. "Such a...dreadful...fearsome...thought...could only lead me to...say no, despite what I may be thinking...inside."

            Robinson and West exchanged meaningful looks.

            After a powerful pause, Robinson said, "I think we understand you very well."

            West added, "We'll be very careful."

            Smith gasped and closed his eyes.

            Robinson rose, lifting Smith with him. Beside them, West got to his feet.

            Trying to force himself not to scream, Smith was biting his lower lip.

            Robinson reached out and brushed at it lightly. "No, don't bite your lip."

            Smith realized his meaning and its importance, immediately obeyed, and looked faint. Both of his hands grabbed fearfully at his own middle.

            West pushed at them. "Hands down," he instructed gently.

            Smith dropped them helplessly at his sides. Both eyes filled with tears as his gaze fled quickly from one man to the other and back again.

            Robinson and West exchanged a quick, brief glance, and dealt two fast, careful blows, one each.

            Smith dropped. He groaned and writhed slightly, but did not scream, or even cry any more than he was already doing.

            The two men sat down on either side of him, and held his hands for a long time, until he drifted off to sleep.

            There were no more nightmares. Smith was so quiet all night.