Awareness. There was nothing, and then all of a sudden it was there. At first there was only a sense of self, just an awareness in a pleasant blackness. Next there was a sense of something that isn’t quite like sight, but a feeling of light through a pink and reddish fog. There was no sense of time save for the transition from some time ago there being nothing, to now a singular feeling of being something that exists and is aware that it exists…somewhere.

And then came an explosion of thought, memory, and knowledge of self. It was a massive detonation where images, smells, feelings, intuitions, and recollection…yes, that is what it was…memory raced away from a singular point, streaked, branched, connected, and forked into a massive array of consciousness. Though these streets of thought had been paved before, the blast wave of consciousness explosion neared a barrier of…something…perhaps the end of this self. The array of thoughts, that moments before was just a sense of self, appeared and accelerated in an instant that may also have been thousands of years.

“I,” is the first thought that entered Corbin Sterling’s mind before the cognitive management subroutine on his cryogenic stasis chamber took over and began to regulate the reanimation process. The cryogenic system was programmed to govern the level of a given subject’s brain activity, in order to protect it from damage, should it reanimate too quickly.

The “I” feeling within Corbin, hit a bit of a cognitive wall as the regulated process went on, and some distant memory of form started to take shape. Memory of a head, torso, arms, pelvis, legs, and finally hands and feet started to report to his consciousness. For the briefest of moments, there was a rise to panic, which was quickly soothed by some unknown external process. Corbin now knew he was moving, but it was impossible to know for how long.

The icy cryofluid drained and was slowly being replaced by water, which started near freezing, and slowly inched up in temperature. As his body warmed, pain receptors all over Corbin’s skin had begun firing, but were muted through a cocktail of anesthesia and painkillers, while brain activity continued to be monitored closely for any drift out of tolerance. As his body temperature warmed, a myriad of tiny needles extended into the cryo chamber and into preset muscle, tendon, and pressure point areas, stimulating the perfectly preserved tissues and underlying fluids to return to work after the long slumber. Slowly but surely, Corbin’s dormant human circulatory and cardiovascular systems began to turn back on and metabolize the intravenous nourishment as he moved toward full reanimation.

Several minutes later Corbin understood that he was a person and was undergoing some sort of medical procedure. He wiggled what he remembered to be his fingers and toes, uttered an unintelligible series of grunts, and managed to open his eyes to tiny slits while also straining to hear. The light level was blissfully low, but he could make out that he was in some sort of tub that had been turned so that he was in a near standing position. Looking out the front of the tub he could see that it was a small room…he couldn’t quite grasp the right word in his mind, bathroom?

As he became more aware, he heard soft and pleasant music, and his nostrils were greeted by a sweet scent. The calm light successfully illuminated the small space and remained at a low level.

Looking down, he realized he was wet and naked, and felt slightly cold. He looked down to see his pelvis and chest were loosely strapped to the chamber so he would not fall out or slouch down. A distant memory of what it was like to rise from bed from ages ago flashed through his mind and was gone. He reached up to the edges of the tub and pulled himself forward. The restraints relaxed as he did so, but still stayed in place. When he was fairly sure he wasn’t going to pass out, he took a step, and the restraints fell away and retracted back into the sides of the tub audibly.

“Please be careful and take it slowly.” A gentle feminine voice rang from everywhere inside the small bathroom. While the voice sounded calm, the verbal commands felt like they were exploding into his ears, and Corbin started.

Rather than flail, Corbin froze at the voice, and waited for its return. He could feel his mind slowly crunching on the sounds—no, words—and within a split second he understood the meaning. When the voice didn’t return, he ventured a small step, all the while keeping a hand on the edge of the tub behind him. He didn’t fall, so he took another step onto the spongy, but warm and dry mat in front of the tub.

“Well done,” the voice continued.