Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  Those gathered in the control room all seemed to have a different idea about which was the best projection to view the proceedings from, the majority watched the main wall, with a few looking at the side views, while even fewer flicked between the different images, just like George. Currently the limited light in the cavern made the convoy look like stars in a dusky night sky.

  Progress was slow, but dragons were renowned for their patience and understanding. Even so, the events unfolding today were testing this, almost to breaking point. Everyone watching knew that this was only the start of the epic journey. The convoy's underground route involved flying south west from Europe, towards Africa's eastern coast. Once there, the dragons would head south under the coast until they reached the capital of Sierra Leone, Freetown. Turning south west again, they would then fly beneath the south Atlantic for about three thousand miles, before arriving under the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro. Following the coast of Uruguay, they would head towards Buenos Aires in Argentina, then turn directly south towards the Falkland Islands before joining the huge trench there, following it all the way to the containment facility. In all the entire journey was over eleven thousand miles and would take about twenty two hours in total.

  "So far the convoy has flown under the Mediterranean and along the coast of Morocco," piped up Axus, tearing away the silence of the last few minutes. "They have just passed beneath Casablanca and shortly you will see from the projections, increased magma activity as the group skirt around the newly reopened geothermal power plant in the Canary Islands."

  From his preferred view, the long distance one, George could see that the bottom of the cutting now being traversed by the party was growing increasingly bright. Giant slivers of molten lava weaved along the floor and lower part of the walls, making it look as though a massive spider had spun a mammoth fluorescent web.

  Like all dragons, George knew everything there was to know about geothermal power; he had after all spent months studying it in the nursery rings. Subterranean dragon cities were all heated using geothermal power, and had been for many centuries. Vast underground areas had also been specifically heated to exacting temperatures, so that a diverse range of crops could be grown all across the world, acting as giant greenhouses. Although all of this was amazingly clever, advanced and interesting, most dragons' favourite part of the geothermal process was the HOT SPRINGS...

  Ahhhhhh.

  Just thinking about hot springs made George's tail twitch in delight, despite the fact that he was currently in his human form, a tail of course nowhere to be seen. That didn't stop the twitching though. Whatever form he was in, George remained convinced that a dragon's tail was like its soul, always there. So much so, that sometimes he even had to look behind him to check that he wasn't dragging it along the ground when he was disguised as a human. This thought, it must be said, was totally private and not something he would ever want other dragons knowing, for fear of ridicule.

  'Hot springs,' he thought, 'are just pleasure personified, that, and chewing your way through a whole block of charcoal... totally the best dragony things to do on the whole planet.'

  If there's one other thing that dragons like, it's gossip. They can often be found sharing the latest rumours and shooting the breeze about pretty much everything. Talk about the next big project was commonplace amongst groups such as the engineers. George had overheard some of them back in the city above ground speculating on rumours of a planet-wide transport system being built, harnessing geothermal power.

  'Pure fantasy of course,' he thought. 'Just like the idea of different flavoured charcoal and that absurd rumour about each city getting its own automated dragon wash. Utter madness!!!'

  With others in the room starting to get a little bored because of pretty much the same views on all the walls, George returned to his thoughts about geothermal power. It was widely hoped within the dragon community that with the right guidance and a gentle nudge or two, humans in the coming decades and centuries, as they develop, will become more advanced technologically and take up the mantle of geothermal power because of its abundance and pollution-free properties. Most dragons hark back to the Roman times and point out that the Romans themselves were subtly nudged in the same direction and achieved great success, especially at Pompeii, that is until the catastrophic eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 A.D.

  One of the regular updates, once again interrupted George's wandering mind.

  "They've nearly reached Freetown and will soon be changing to a south westerly heading," muttered Axus, with distinctly less enthusiasm than an hour earlier.

  Over the course of the rest of the day, the prisoners and guards followed the planned route exactly and made relatively good time. Axus continued with the regular updates, with many in the room paying more attention than others; some closed their eyes and meditated, while others, chiefly Osvaldo, left for short periods, before returning later.

  Once the convoy entered the trench at the Falkland Islands, the tension in the room ratcheted up another level or two. Some paced and held whispered conversations, dragon bottoms shifted on stools, betraying the nervousness they all felt. Even Axus was more agitated than George had ever seen him, something he would have thought impossible only a few hours ago. Not able to stand still for more than two seconds at a time, constantly berating the technicians for the smallest of things, and flitting in and out of the room like a headless chicken, the famed engineer was the total opposite to the cool, calm pool of radiance that was the king. The monarch seemed totally unaffected by the tension and pressure, standing next to the stools in the middle of the room, looking like he didn't have a care in the world: the calm centre of a hurricane raging all around him.

  "Majesty," called Axus over the hustle and bustle of the control room, "the group are about five hundred miles out from the entrance and should arrive in approximately one hour."

  The king gave the engineer a nod of understanding. Axus continued.

  "The facility is fully provisioned for the prisoners; it should just be a matter of the guards releasing them from their harnesses, and then using the mantras they're equipped with to bring them round. There should be a short crossover period after the mantras have been used, between the fugitives waking, and being fully conscious and aware. During that time the guards will be able to make their getaway and blow the shaped charges beyond the entrance of the tunnel, sealing it with thousands of tonnes of rock and ice for all time.

  George knew that the whole sorry episode was nearly at an end now, but as he glanced around the room at the different projections, he couldn't help but pity those dragons being carried to their internment, to live out the remainder of their days in that horrifying environment, so totally alien to any and all dragons. Even worse, to know that you would end up dying there as well, with absolutely no chance of ever successfully mating or reproducing at all. A wave of sorrow washed over him and once again he thought of Troydenn and wondered exactly how things had gone so horribly wrong.

  Everybody's focus was with the here and now, given that the group were on their approach to what was effectively their jail for the rest of their natural lives. As minutes passed, the images on the walls started to deteriorate... becoming blurred, or cutting out altogether. Unbelievably, Axus became even more frantic, something that had to be seen to be believed.

  "What seems to be the problem Axus?" asked the king, calmly.

  "It's the telepathic booster Majesty. We've increased the power output to beyond maximum, but the range is just too great. It might be that the cold is having an effect as well. I'm afraid the images will continue to break down. There's nothing more that can be done."

  "How long before the convoy reaches the cavern?" enquired the king.

  Striding over to a great map on the desk at the very front of the room, Axus began to study it carefully, just as the projections on the walls began to flicker more frequently. Turning from the king, the touch of a grin beamed past his scraggy beard.

  "They're
only a few minutes from the entrance, Majesty," he sighed, sounding relieved.

  As the king nodded, everyone went back to work, focusing their efforts on getting everything they could from the projections.

  Although George could see the left and right side projections out of the corner of his eyes, his concentration remained on the back wall and the view from the dragon flying far behind. It seemed there was less interference with this projection, maybe because it wasn't quite as far up the trench as the others. As far as he was concerned, it was also easier to make out exactly what was going on.

  All of a sudden Axus pointed at the front projection and excitedly cried,

  "There it is, the entrance to the cavern!"

  Everyone in the room, even George, turned to face the projection on the front wall. Through the distortion and interference they could just make out the gaping entrance to the containment facility, backlit by the artificial lights that Axus and the other engineers had installed for the prisoners' benefit.

  At that exact moment... ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE!!!!!

  It was difficult to tell where, or how, it all started because of the poor quality of the images, but one thing was for sure... the supposedly sedated prisoners were all transforming from their human guises back into their natural dragon forms. Everybody in the room looked slack-jawed and stunned at this shocking revelation, everybody but the king, and Osvaldo Rosebloom.

  Some of the prisoners had broken free of their restraints and had changed back into dragons while dropping towards the ground at perilous speeds. Heading towards the ground as tiny black dots on the projections, arms waving precariously on either side, they dropped like a stone, only to blur and transform before hitting the bottom, swooping back up as a dragon, fully ready to join the fight against their captors. Other were changing while still attached to the guards that were carrying them, some bursting free, taking their subjugators by surprise, others spiralling out of control towards the ground, their new found bulk too much to maintain steady flight. Mundane had turned to chaos in the blink of an eye, as magic ricocheted around the cavern.

  Every projection in the control room was the same: dragon fighting dragon. Flame spewed from the mouths of different beasts, talons raked, heads butted, tails thumped, with putrid green blood splashing everywhere. It was difficult to make out from the black and white images exactly who had the advantage, as wings were punctured, sending guards corkscrewing down to their deaths, momentum used to skewer the enemy onto stalactites and stalagmites indiscriminately, and razor-sharp teeth slashing mighty chunks of scale and flesh throughout the aerial battle. Deep in the middle of the skirmish was the terror-inducing sight that they all feared... the huge matt black dragon that was Troydenn, going on an absolute rampage.

  Back in the control room, the king, not taking his eyes off the scene of carnage and mayhem before them all, asked what they were all thinking.

  "Where are the closest reinforcements Axus?"

  "Not close enough I'm afraid, Majesty. The prisoners would easily be able to get back to the Falkland Islands and escape in plenty of time before we could gather even a meagre force together," he replied, shaking his head gloomily.

  With his attention, like everyone else’s, firmly focused on Axus, George caught a glimpse of something odd out the corner of his left eye. Totally the opposite of all the other onlookers, who were unanimously shocked and horrified by the surprising turn of events, leaning against one of the elongated desks off to one side, Osvaldo just looked... SMUG!

  Abruptly the projection on the left wall cut out totally. The dragon operator on that wall dropped to the floor, howling in pain, hands wrapped around the shiny metal helmet with wires in it that sat firmly fixed on his head, trying with all his might to remove it, without any luck, which might have had something to do with the smoke and acrid smell that it was giving off. From out of nowhere, two medics arrived and started treating the stricken dragon, but not before he'd let out a blood-curdling scream and lost consciousness. Every being there could see what had happened from the images on the back wall. There, through a crowd of wrangling dragons all fighting for their lives, smack bang in the middle of the cavern's entrance was a pale dragon with bright flecks up its back and tail. One of the dragons that had been specifically selected to telepathically send back the black and white images, its long slender neck was now being crushed by the giant vice-like jaws of... Troydenn. Both dragons hovered in mid-air as the chaos ensued all around them, long after the life had left the innocent pale projectionist. Drawing a short, sharp gasp of horror from every being in the control room, Troydenn's gigantic jaws finally clasped together, totally severing the poor dragon's neck, letting the two pieces of the decapitated body tumble uncontrollably towards the bottom of the cavern. The dragon sending images back who was furthest away from the action, focused in on the crazed figure of Troydenn. Flapping his massive matt black wings furiously, head shaking violently from side to side, his angled face turned in the exact same direction from which he was being pictured, almost as if he knew that the king and councillors were watching, something that just couldn't be possible. Could it? More than a hint of insanity clouding his eyes, the charismatic leader's face broke into the biggest, scariest grin in the world. In that moment, in everyone's minds, things changed forever.

  The atmosphere in the monitoring room at that very moment could be cut with a knife. Enveloped in stony silence, everyone there looked towards the king for an answer. Suddenly he stood, and in a move so quick nobody could have seen it coming, he smashed a vacant stool halfway across the room with his left forearm.

  "ENOUGH!" bellowed the king. "Blow the explosive charges... NOW!"

  Shaking somewhat, Axus turned towards the king.

  "But Majesty, what about the guards? They'll be trapped along with all the prisoners."

  With a look of absolute fury on his face, the king roared,

  "DO YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT? TRAPPED AND LOST FOREVER. DO YOU THINK THAT'S WHAT I WANT FOR THEM? THINK HOW MANY HUMANS AND DRAGONS ALIKE WILL BE KILLED IF TROYDENN AND HIS FOLLOWERS ARE ALLOWED TO LEAVE THAT PLACE. THE WHOLE WORLD WILL BE THROWN INTO PERIL, AND I WON'T ALLOW THAT. I COMMAND YOU TO BLOW ALL OF THE CHARGES AT ONCE. NOWWWW!!!!"

  Despite the fact that all the blood had totally drained from his face, ever the professional, Axus turned and walked over to the table with the giant map on it. Pulling open a drawer, he withdrew a small box and flipped open the lid. Closing his eyes, and with a small shake of the head, he depressed the red button inside, knowing that there really was no other choice.

  Bright explosions blossomed simultaneously across all three of the remaining projections. Dragons from both sides were pulverised by superheated exploding rock and ice. The detonation encompassed everything in sight, causing two of the remaining images to cease almost instantly, signalling the deaths of two more of the projectionist dragons. Back in the dragon domain, the control room darkened considerably with only the back wall now showing anything at all from the outlandish events in Antarctica.

  George felt helpless as the incident on the other side of the planet spiralled out of control. Despite his feelings, and so desperately wanting to, he couldn't look away from the images that started to turn his green blood cold.

  Turning away from the cavern entrance, the lone surviving projectionist was now heading at breakneck speed along the trench, back towards the Falkland Islands. Swerving erratically to avoid enormous stalactites and stalagmites, the dragon appeared to be flying as fast as was dragonly possible in the comparative darkness, clearly aware of the fate of those behind him. While still flying ahead in the trench, briefly he glanced over his shoulder, projecting the image back to the others. Fleeing dragons being dashed by rock and ice, all following hot on his tail, as well as a cascading barrage of explosions bursting up from the trench floor, shone onto the taut canvass as everyone looked on, speechless. Incredibly, the fleeing projectionist seemed to have found a little more speed from somewhere, offerin
g up just a smidgen of hope to those in the darkness. Silently they willed him on, willed him to live.

  Soaring incredibly fast now, it seemed the only possible outcome was for the dragon they all now had so much invested in, to outrun the wave of death behind him and cheat his certain demise. Until, that is, an explosion detonated about ten metres in front of him. The last thing those in the room saw before the wall went dark, was a torrent of rock, ice and fire closing in on all sides of the brave dragon. Plunged fully into darkness, the control room was as silent as a crypt in the dead of night.

  "Lights," commanded Axus.

  Immediately they came on. Glancing around, George had never seen members of his own race look so sombre. The shock and horror at what they'd witnessed here today would stay with them forever.

  "REPORT!" commanded the king.

  Axus studied the information on the map table before turning around and addressing the monarch.

  "All the charges detonated successfully Majesty. Anyone still alive will remain encased in that icy hell hole for the rest of their lives."

  Emotional turmoil threatened to drop George to his knees. The trial of Troydenn himself was bad enough but this... this was beyond belief. Guilt, sadness, remorse, relief... was it even possible to feel all of these things at once, he asked himself. On reflection, he knew his emotions would always overwhelm him when he thought of the events that surrounded the last week or so of his life. But today the greatest threat his race had ever faced had been thwarted for good, finally. And that in itself must be the most important thing. At least that's what he continued to tell himself.

  * * *

  "And so students, for those of you who didn't already know it, that is the true story of George and the Dragon. Nothing like, you may note, the dismal and dreary tales you will hear on the surface from the misinformed humans, if and when you finally make it up there. That will be all for today. Don't forget this week's homework. Lessons will resume in the morning. Do not be late!" said the tor.