by Joseph Lallo
“We’re here. You used to spend your summers here?” Gale said.
“For a while.”
“Lucky… I can only imagine the sort of wildlife you had access to.”
“That was the good part. The bad part was being the kid who was actually interested during the nature hikes.”
“Oh… yeah… The whole nerd stigma. If only those lunkheads who picked on the geeks knew we’d be running things when we grew up.”
The road took a turn, and a small guard booth came into view. It was staffed by a thickly built young man with a vacant expression and a handheld game system. When he saw the van, he straightened up and clicked it shut. He didn’t seem overly pleased to suddenly have a job to do.
“Speaking of lunkheads… try to keep Blodgette quiet. There’s a guard.”
“Great…” Markus said.
She slid a flimsy curtain aside to hide the view of the inside of the van and rolled down the window as she pulled up to the steel gate blocking the path.
“Can I help you?” the guard said, his tone restructuring the flavorless recitation into something more akin to Make it quick.
“Hi there. I’m a student from down south,” she said, digging out her school ID. “Zoology. Got a big research project to do, and this little refuge seems like the perfect place to get it done.”
He looked over the ID, then handed it back and reached into the booth to pull out a clipboard with a sparse printout attached. “I don’t have anything on the reservation list about a research trip.”
“Last minute change of plans. Originally I was going to do a study on the local reindeer ranches, but something much better came along.”
He glanced at the side of the truck, then back at her. “And it involved a beat-up delivery truck?”
“What, this? … Cheap rental. The guy who runs the place went on a trip. Let me borrow it.”
She smiled hopefully and was met with little more than an irritated glare and a heavy silence. The silence was eventually broken by a chirp from Blodgette, followed by the thwomp of her denting out the rear door, hoping they were done traveling.
He glanced to the source of the sound, then back at Gale. The smile had turned brittle, and was framed by an anxious expression, but she held it rigidly in place as though no one smiling could possibly be up to no good.
“Let me tell you something,” the guard said. “The United States Fish and Wildlife Service pays me barely more than minimum wage to make sure that this little patch of land stays pure.”
“It was a quarry and a summer camp. It is the opposite of pure,” Gale said.
“They pay me barely more than minimum wage to make sure it stays pure,” he repeated. “So I could just turn you right around. And I should. Or I could have you open up those doors there so I can make sure you don’t have anything that might threaten the environment that they pay me barely more than minimum wage to protect. And maybe I will. Unless something comes along to convince me to skip doing the stuff that they pay me barely more than minimum wage to do.”
By the second instance of his not-so-subtle prompting, she was already digging in her pocket for her wallet. She pulled out two twenties and dropped them out the window.
“Oops,” she said.
He shook his head. “See, it’s littering like that that they pay me to watch out for. Now I’m going to look the other way to clean up our pure wilderness. Don’t you do anything dishonest while I’m doing it.”
The guard reached inside the shack and buzzed the gate open, then leaned down to collect the bribe.
“Well, that went better than expected,” she said. “Though this little mission is starting to get expensive. The faster I figure out how to legitimize all of this and get a grant to pay for it, the better.”
She rumbled along the increasingly decrepit road toward the lake. It was enormous and, like most man-made things, composed of the sort of straight lines nature tended to forgo. The body of water was perfectly rectangular. Only one corner of it was visible from the road. The rest disappeared behind a thick stand of evergreens. In the distance, more than a half mile away and barely visible, some shadowy cabins, the core of the summer camp, could be seen.
Before long, the road became too rough for even Gale’s poor driving instincts. She stopped, threw on the parking brake, and popped the doors open.
“Here we are, everyone.”
Blodgette practically catapulted herself from the back of the van, hauling Markus along with her like a rag doll. What at first seemed like a desperate bid for freedom soon revealed itself to be a rabid enthusiasm for the shimmering body of water ahead.
“No, no. No, no, no, no, Blodgette—I don’t want to go swimming, don’t!”
SPLASH!
Gale smiled and crossed her arms, watching as Blodgette rolled to her back and drifted along in the frigid water, Markus gasping from the cold and sputtering beside her. She grabbed her camera and snapped a few pictures while there was still light enough to do so.
Markus climbed up on top of Blodgette like a raft and shook the water out of his hair. “Well… somebody’s happy to be here,” he said.
Blodgette trilled happily and dunked her head back to gulp up some water and release a steamy sigh of contentment.
“Now that’s what a happy, healthy Structophis gastrignae looks like.” Gale rubbed her hands together. “Now let the real research begin.”
Chapter 6
Pizza dragons, a bit like hermit crabs, instinctively use their surroundings to craft a protective covering. In the case of pizza dragons, it is a much more permanent choice, swiftly becoming a physical part of the beast. Though it changed from beast to beast, most of the creatures crafted something of a mask out of their former home. With so much of communication coming from facial expressions, one would have imagined this would make the emotional state of such a creature more difficult to read. For Blodgette, at least, nothing could be further from the truth. Ever since she’d arrived at the quarry lake, her body language had been screaming relief, excitement, and contentment.
A nice long swim in the lake had cooled her off, and now as the air was dipping down to a genuine chill, she was tottering around the shore of the lake investigating anything and everything. Gale followed along, the light from her phone supplementing the fading evening glow as she recorded video and narrated.
“As you can see, the specimen is heeding her instincts. We are at an old quarry, right at the edge of the pit. The stones here are mineral rich, and the Structophis gastrignae is now searching for the essential nutrients that will help her grow, maintain her armor, and otherwise progress to adulthood.”
“I feel as if I’m in a nature documentary,” Markus said, pacing along beside Blodgette.
“Shh! I’m narrating,” Gale said. “The mechanism by which the Structophis gastrignae identifies the composition of the mineral deposits surrounding it is still only weakly understood. It is believed that sophisticated chemical receptors—like a more complex version of taste buds—can be found in both the mouth and inside the ‘crop’ of the creature. But thus far the specimen has discarded many stones without even tasting them, so there must be a visual, scent-based, or even tactile identification method. Perhaps all three.”
“I think she’s just looking for shiny ones.”
“She’s not just looking for shiny ones,” Gale hissed. “Our current facility isn’t quite set up yet. We are missing some key bits of research equipment that I hope to have shortly, but observed behavior has already been extremely educational. As indicated in my written notes, this specimen was raised in near isolation, my research assistant—”
“Is that my official title?” Markus asked. “And here I was thinking you were my accomplice.”
“My research assistant,” she repeated, raising her voice angrily, “is one of only two individuals who were present during the early life stages, and despite being separated for more than five years, both trus
t and recognition were nearly immediate. He has been the primary avenue for social and intellectual study. We have so far demonstrated the well-documented capacity for rapid learning, as imitation and simple affection-based rewards asserted themselves organically through normal interaction.”
She leaned out from behind the phone. “Do the thing,” she whispered insistently. “Like we talked about.”
“What? Oh, right.” Markus paced out in front of Blodgette. “Blodgette, go like this.”
He balanced on one leg, arms held out to either side for stability. Blodgette warbled happily and did the same. She wasn’t the most graceful creature, so it took a bit of teetering and a few swishes of her long, chubby tail to get the balance right.
“Good job! High-five!” he said.
She released a scaled-up version of an adorable little peep of excitement and nearly fell over in her eagerness to receive the precious hand slap.
“Remarkable, isn’t it?” Gale said. “We are barely twenty-four hours post-emergence. As I’ve said, Markus is the trusted individual, but in the day we’ve spent together I believe I have earned a degree of the same trust.”
Gale stepped in front of Blodgette, holding out her hand in front of the camera. She cleared her throat.
“High-five, Blodgette.”
The dragon looked at her flatly, then plodded in a wide path around her to avoid having to deal with her before continuing her investigation of the surrounding stones.
Markus snickered. “Blodgette, you shouldn’t leave Gale hanging.”
“Clearly I have more work to do to earn the proper level of trust,” Gale muttered.
Blodgette chirped and thudded over to the edge of the water. She scooped up a fist-size stone and brought it over to the light, and thus to the camera. It was gleaming and smooth, with little sparkling flecks throughout. She peeped again, then stuffed it into her mouth to gnaw on.
“She was looking for a shiny one,” Gale said, more excited than disappointed that she had been wrong. “Well done, Markus.”
“Just being the best research assistant I can be.”
“I’ll have to take samples of rocks like that and figure out how to analyze them. As you can see, rather than the typical ceramic or masonry, this dragon was raised in a steel oven. It is my theory that her tastes will mirror the general chemical makeup of this covering in order to help her organically augment and repair it over time. And on the subject of theories…” She pulled the temp-gun out of her pocket and pointed it at Blodgette. “The specimen is freshly out of a full-body immersion to get her temperature down, but she’s still running a bit cooler than one would expect. It could just be the night air and the lower water temperature, but evidence is mounting that the specimen, perhaps as a result of her unique physiology or perhaps simply because of a quirk in her genetics, is able to slightly regulate her temperature even at this young age, and is able to comfortably endure higher-than-average temperatures at steady state with no signs of discomfort. I hope to determine how precisely this is achieved before the development of her natural heat vents makes that more difficult.
“My battery is getting low, so I’m going to have to end this here, but expect more video logs as we learn more about this astonishing creature.” She tapped off the video and pocketed the phone.
“All done with the Animal Planet routine?” Markus asked.
“Don’t talk to me about Animal Planet,” Gale said. “Ever since they put on that show about tree houses, Animal Planet has been dead to me. But yeah, I’m done with the narration.”
“Good, because there’s some stuff that needs to be addressed.”
“Is there? Blodgette seems to be doing okay. We’re far enough off the beaten path that no one’s going to spot us without coming all the way into the nature reserve or flying over in a helicopter. She’s got plenty of firewood, and it looks as if she’s found some rocks she likes. Oh, but you’re right. We should stock up on fixings. Herbs, spices, flour…”
“Yes, we should do that,” Markus said, running his fingers through his hair, which was still damp from his impromptu dip. “But there’s also us to think about. Or more specifically, me, since I’m the one who isn’t going to be able to leave. We left in a hurry. I don’t have food, water, toilet paper… I’ve had to use the bathroom for about nine hours, and the logistics of doing that while being joined at the hip to a pizza dragon have been enough to convince me to hold it, but we’re approaching a crisis situation.”
Gale blinked. “Okay. A little too much information, but point taken. Let’s start making plans for the long haul. We should try to get over to the site of the old camp. See if you can get Blodgette to hop back in the van and we’ll—”
Blodgette burbled urgently and flopped down to the ground, digging her pudgy fingers into it like a toddler holding on to a bedspread to keep from being picked up.
“You said the V-word,” Markus said.
“Okay, fine. You two start heading over on foot. I’ll take the… vehicle out to pick up some supplies. We need food, pizza fixings, clothes for you. Clothes for me too, since I’m not going to have time for a trip home anytime soon… bedding… This is going to be a pretty big bill.”
“Once again, I’m going to have to figure out how to heed the call of nature while a metric ton of clingy dragon hovers nearby, so no one’s getting off easy.”
“Noted. We’ll settle up later. Here’s my messenger bag. There’re some of the textbooks and some granola bars in there. Good luck with your little challenge. Stay away from any three-leafed vines for… you know.”
“Uh-huh. Just hurry back.”
Gale jogged back to the van and hopped in. She spun the tires a bit before the van lurched forward and skidded to a stop again.
“Seriously, Gale. How did you not get pulled over during the whole trip?”
“Fortune favors the bold.”
“Maybe fortune does, but the highway patrol doesn’t.”
“Then I guess I just got lucky.” She spun the tires again for a moment, then eased forward with a bit more control. “There we go. See you in a bit.”
She finally got the vehicle moving on the less-than-optimal road surface and was on her way. The much-abused van rattled along toward the gate, leaving Markus and Blodgette alone with only the moon for light.
The dragon watched the hated vehicle retreat into the distance, then looked about with steadily increasing confusion and concern. She chirped and trilled inquisitively. Markus gave her a quizzical look.
“Oh, I see. You don’t trust her enough to return the high five, but you don’t want to see her go. You’re going to have to make up your mind about her, because in the best case she’s going to be around for a while. In the worst case, I’m going to get locked up and you’re going to end up with whoever ends up caring for dragons who have been taken into federal custody.”
A stiff wind rushed across the quarry. When it hit Markus’s damp skin, it felt as though it blew right through him. He was a lifelong Colorado native, and the thin air of the mountains was a whole different type of cold than the sort of thing people at the coasts had to deal with. For the most part he was used to it, but wet clothes on a cool night still made his teeth chatter.
Blodgette was still staring at him expectantly, as though he could make Gale magically appear without the evil van. When she saw the way he shook when the wind blew, she placed a hand on his shoulder, then quickly pulled it away. A bit of looking back and forth between her hand and his shoulder, followed by a few experimental pokes and prods, established that yes, Markus really was that cold.
She decided that simply would not do and pulled him close to her. The toasty warm skin and armor felt… frankly, wonderful. It took the chill of the air away instantly.
“Much obliged, Blodgette. But we’re going to need a better solution. If you’re willing to spare some of your snack stash of firewood, I think we should try for a campfire.” He fidgeted a bi
t. “But first… I’ve got something to take care of.”
#
Dimitrios paced back and forth, admiring the decor. His business had technically concluded with Hearst earlier that evening. Far from the sort who would let a good thing go without a fight, after learning that Hearst had brought an associate along with him to send to the United States to oversee operations there, he’d gently suggested perhaps he could hitch a ride back as well. And since he wouldn’t have anywhere to be in the hours prior to the departure of the private jet, why not remain with Hearst and continue to exploit his hospitality? Hearst had relented in much the same way one might give up on trying to take something away from a screaming toddler.
Now they were each in the “entertaining room” of his Italian estate, or at least one of them. The longer Dimitrios spoke to this man the more impressed he became with the utter extravagance of his lifestyle.
“So, you spend much time in Italy, Donny?” he asked, leaning in to investigate a piece of wooden artwork hanging on the wall.
“Not typically for more than a few hours, I am sorry to say,” Hearst said, thumbing through a stack of reports.
As he finished them, he fed them into a shredder he’d had placed beside him.
“But you’ve got a house here?”
“Hearst Limited maintains guest residences in most urban centers. We are a multinational organization after all. My primary residence is in Berlin, but I cannot remember the last time I spent more than a week there. Such are the challenges of my chosen management philosophy. I endeavor to stay personally abreast of all crucial matters.”
