The Professor Dreams

Chapter 1

The machine moved through the mountains of data it received every second, analysing. On routine, it executed the commands necessary, computing the required result. It then tested the solution under a band of variation and found the results to be within parameters.

A short burst of radio waves later, the Phoenix Protocol initiated. The cryogenic tank that held the Professor, sealed within a vacuum, began her revival.

A few months later, she woke up, sputtering and gagging. The sylo-plastic tube that trailed down her mouth to her stomach was only then pulled out. As she came to awareness, the tubes attached to her other orifices retracted as well.

The room around her flushed with air, stabilising the atmosphere to normal levels. The tank that held her opened, and she gasped as the cold air hit her naked body covered in slime.

Primal fear clutched her as she struggled with herself and the unknown. The slime was thick and it stuck to her, and she wiped it off her face. That helped with her breathing. For, she realised, she could and must breathe, now by herself.

A mist clouded her thoughts still. Her mind blundered about, seeking to remember, to reason. She tried to get out of the tank but found the effort excruciating. Helpless, she fell back into the tank, and focused on her breathing, calming herself.

The pale white light from above pinched her eyes, and she tried to raise an arm to shield against it. She was successful enough. Then a stray thought came to her, through the mist that engulfed her. She reasoned that being born must be a somewhat similar experience.

With that, memory resurfaced, and she remembered. Who she was, why she was here, what was her purpose. With each breath, the thrumming beating of her heart settled, and her fear receded. Dropping her arm, she reattempted getting out of the tank.

Unsure, like a newborn deer, she stumbled onto the floor. Her muscles, though exercised every day, were still unsure of her. Her face pressed onto the white marble floor, and she resumed her focus on breathing.

She should have designed and created a robot assistant as well, but there had been no time. She lay there, waiting, as her mind and body adjusted to each other.

When she came to, a great hunger was clawing at her belly. She tested her legs and found that she could stand upright. She stumbled her way to the counter near her tank. In it, was honey, and warm, fresh bread. The machines had managed all her requirements well. The tap above the counter streamed pure water, and she drank and ate, sitting naked on the floor. Her strength returned to her as she did.

Satisfied with her small meal, she got up and walked to the living quarters, enclosed next to her tank. She took a shower, first in warm water, then in cold, to awaken her senses. Feeling clean, she clothed herself in a clean white robe and stepped back into the control room.

"How long has it been," asked the Professor out loud as she headed towards the counter. The AI systems controlling the space beeped for a bit and rang in a clear voice through the speakers.

"Approximately 3.5 million years, Professor"

The Professor rummaged through the supply line, searching for caffeine. "Be more precise, machine"

"2,671,235 years, 10 months, 22 days, Professor."

The Professor finally found her can of coffee. For a while, she stood still, staring at it. It, like her, had persevered by the same science. Her birthday had been last month.

"Show me," she said. The floor beneath her feet began to shiver, then shake. The machines ran through the commands, and with a single swoop, raised the blast shields.

The dark maw of space pulled at her. Littered with the lights of a billion stars, it had once been a frontier of endless possibilities. It still was, she reasoned. If all went according to plan.

As she gazed, the lone star of the Sol system peeked out from behind the blue planet below her. She felt rather than heard her ships photovoltaic cells turn towards the sun. As its rays fell upon her, she felt her body gravitate towards the light. It seemed that it too had missed the sun.

The world under her was dead. All according to plan.

The Professor spun on her heels and walked deeper into the ship. In her sleeping compartment, she stepped in front of her mirror and disrobed. She started to adorn her familiar attire. As she dressed, a memory unbidden, came to her.

Rage. Rage and scorn. And the greed of so many, that corrupted the minds of many more. The relentless chantings of crowds. Mobs with many twisted faces, all looking the same. The rain that seeped into her clothes and trickled down her back. Under the dance of lightning, the realisation dawning onto her.

The world below her was now dead, she thought. Good.

Setting the familiar, stiff comfort of her lab coat onto her shoulders, she nodded to herself. Good. Time to rebuild then.

"Begin landing protocols," she said, stepping back into the command room. "Every Sovereign-class, every Fleet ship. Call them all, bring them in. It is time to rebuild."

She sat on the command chair, as the machines obeyed. Those around her. Those that orbited the moon. And those that orbited the sun near the edge of the solar system. At the Professors command, each ship turned and trekked their long journey back to Earth.

The Professor's ship raised its blast windows, sinking its interior into darkness. Thrusters then began aligning the ship in time with the Earths own orbit.

On the land, a great roar engulfed the cloudless sky. Lightning crackled, shattering the land. Fire raced in time with the roaring wind, as from the sky she came. Back to the planet that had abandoned her; her ship landed with the force of a nuclear bomb.