Through the Wormhole

Chapter XI: Lessons in Geologic Time (Part Mesoproterozoic)

Prehistoric times? The reveal piqued Dan's interest, but only by a bit. What did black holes, wormholes, and white holes have to do with PPMC?

He offered his hand to Chenoa.

She studied it and put the gauntlet in his palm. Chenoa started down the small hallway she and Dan encompassed and pointed at the glass doors. "PPMC is out here, Dan."

Dan only half listened because he tried to figure out how the gauntlet worked. He flipped it over and held it up to his face. "What the—? Professor, you're associated with this thing. How's this work?"

"Associated?" She laughed. "I don't think that's the right word, Dan. It makes me sound like I'm an AI." She tried to keep a straight face, but Dan could tell it was difficult. "Come on. I'll tell you outside." Chenoa giggled the rest of the way to the door, but Dan didn't understand why.

***

The launch pad looked vastly different when tourists didn't crowd it. Dan could actually see the rest of PPMC at the end of the path, sitting atop the launch circle like a bird on her eggs. She was rectangular-shaped, with a round stern and bow, but smaller than he expected, even with her set of wings. The Sun poked up behind her, and its rays washed over her white and navy body.

Wait! The Sun was coming up. Heck! How long did Dan sleep?

"Professor?" he asked, tugging her lab coat. "What time is it?"

"It's 8:00," she replied, pulling away. "You slept for eighteen hours, my friend."

Dan almost cursed but stopped himself and replaced it with a bewildered expression. How hard did he hit his head? Ben was the one he meant to knock out with the sledgehammer—not himself.

"We let you sleep to get you rested for blast off tomorrow," Chenoa explained.

Crap! That was tomorrow? Dan had to get out of there and fast. It wouldn't be easy with Chenoa standing there, though, alongside the complicated thoughts motoring through his big head. He couldn't forget his mother's words, too. But he had to do it... maybe after he heard more about the prehistoric part of the PPMC Project. Gah! Dan sure hoped he wasn't falling for his father's delusions.

PPMC's creepy hands emerged from an opening on the side of her cockpit once Dan and Chenoa reached her. "Hey, Dan!" she said in a voice that strangely wasn't robotic. "Are you feeling better?" Her hands approached him and tapped a tender spot on his temple.

"Ew! Ew! Ew!" he groaned, swatting her away. Since when could spaceships talk? Dan held the gauntlet like a sword and threatened PPMC with it.

Giggling, she flicked it out of his grasp.

Chenoa caught it before it hit the launch pad.

"Don't. Touch. Me." Dan backed away from PPMC. He shuddered and rubbed the goosebumps under his coat sleeve. "Let's just get this over with. What's the PPMC Project?"

"Well, you certainly are impatient, aren't you?" PPMC inquired. She shook her hands. "Just like your mother."

"My mother?" Dan glowered. "How do you know about her?"

"I'm programmed with her personality."

"Really?" Dan scoffed. "You don't sound like her at all."

PPMC hovered over him, indicating she was annoyed. "Well, that's because I'm still learning." She moved her hands closer, and Dan toppled onto his backside.

"What's the PPMC?" he growled.

Chenoa quickly intervened and helped him stand. "PPMC is the first starship to travel back to prehistoric times, Dan. Your dad chose you as the Star because he said you love geologic time."