The Bug Dragon Project

by Suzie Taylor

  But the large bug Dragon would have none of it. A quick whistle sent the others zooming for the trees whilst he pounced onto the phone with his claws out and teeth bared. Alf fell backwards and a struggle ensued with the bug dragon buzzing its wings furiously and attempting to bite Alf’s fingers whilst Alf tried to shake it off and brush it away with his other hand at the same time. Eventually he let go of the phone and the dragon flew off with it dangling heavily from its claws until two others swooped down to help. Between them they were able to fly off into the forest where they quickly disappeared.

  Alf stared after them in horror. “My phone! The scumbags have stolen my phone!”

  “You shouldn’t have let go of it!” said Ben.

  “Well why didn’t you help?”

  “I was on my way!”

  They stood in silence for a moment staring helplessly into the darkness.

  Alf sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I hope nobody tries to ring me!”

  “Your hand is bleeding.”

  Alf examined the wound and nodded. “I’d better get it cleaned up before it goes septic and I end up losing my fingers to gangrene. It’s probably too late. I’ve probably contracted rabies. If I start hunching around and frothing at the mouth you’d better start running. I had a great uncle who died of rabies; he bit his own horse then killed ten nurses at the hospital before he finally succumbed.”

  “Next time wear gloves.”

  Growler perched high up on the branch of a gum tree and stared moodily down over the sprawl of human habitation that edged the forest. The strange black device he had taken from the human’s hand had been handed over to Nexus – the expert in these matters – no doubt he would know what it was and what to do about it.

  This was the most difficult mission he’d ever undertaken. Normally humans were to be avoided at all costs and venturing into their domain was prohibited, but there was no longer any doubt. The spectrum stone was in that house! He could sense its presence, radiating from the walls like an invisible rainbow... the tantalising smell of colour and light! They were almost onto it, but the challenge of getting it back still remained. The humans were well fortified within their hive but they were also overconfident. The mother had been wearing the spectrum stone out in the open, tied around her neck for all to see!

  Growler was keen to avoid a fight if he could. If Gypsy was able to get herself in there without being noticed she might be able to discover where the stone was kept and recover it without a fuss... and what other treasures might be lurking within those walls? Was it worth a full on raid?

  Mouse of course was on a different assignment – he was attempting to gain the trust of the two boys. Growler had serious doubts about the wisdom of this approach. It was potentially a good way to gain access to the house, but it could easily backfire if the humans suspected anything. So far everything was going smoothly; the boys seemed to be curious and not overly bright. They were not the problem; it was Mouse who was likely to be pretentious and unpredictable.

  As if in answer to his thoughts, Mouse flew up and sat beside him, gazing quietly over the lights of the distant city. Growler eyed him coldly and Mouse answered his glare with wide innocent eyes. Growler snorted. Mouse could fool his victims easily enough, but when it came to the crunch would he actually obey orders? Gypsy was far more reliable.

  What Growler didn’t realise was that Mouse and Gypsy were privately competing with each other to see who could accomplish their mission first!

  Alf lived on the edge for the next couple of days. He ‘borrowed’ his Dad’s phone and tried calling his own phone only to have it go to message bank. It then occurred to him that if he could sneak out with his Dad’s phone he could try ringing it in the forest and maybe hear something. Perhaps it had been dropped somewhere. Ben was less optimistic, reasoning that even if the bug dragons had dropped it, the phone was probably dead. There was no harm in trying however, so they hunted around the undergrowth that afternoon for over an hour.

  “I’m sorry Alf, but I reckon they’ve taken it for good,” said Ben. “They probably liked it because it lit up.”

  “What use is a phone to them?” Alf grumbled. “It’s not like they can use it.”

  At that moment, his father’s phone rang.

  “Don’t answer it!” said Ben “You’ll get in trouble - you said your Dad never used his phone on the weekend.”

  “It’s me…” frowned Alf looking at the screen.

  “Answer it!!”

  Alf answered. “Um… hello?”

  His ear was met with a series of high pitched whistles and squeals. Alf jerked the phone away from his ear then shouted into it. “Give me my phone back!”

  “What happened?” asked Ben after a short pause.

  “They hung up!”

  The phoned bleeped. Alf looked back at the screen, and checked the text.

  “Well?” asked Ben.

  But Alf was lost for words. Ben grabbed his arm and had a look. The screen depicted a gloriously bright image of eight bug dragons grinning into the camera and struggling to be the one in front.

  Both boys were speechless for a moment then Alf’s brain went into hyper drive.

  Clearly these were not ordinary animals – They were intelligent creatures who had worked out how to use the phone. Either that or they’d seen one before. It was extremely plausible that they were technologically advanced aliens from another universe, here to suss out the planet so they could transmit messages back to the mothership. Perhaps they were not even organic! They could be elaborate androids designed to lure the boys into following them so that they could be kidnapped and pulled into another universe for experimentation. That was it! They were probably even solar powered. That was why they were so shiny. Those scales on the back were solar panels. They sun-baked all day and then came out at night!

  “Robots don’t poop,” Ben pointed out. “I hope they don’t ring your Mum though.”

  “It’s not just Mum…” Alf’s eyes were very wide as he ran his hands through his already tousled hair and began pacing up and down, speaking very quickly. The bug dragons could be ringing everyone he knew and using subliminal codes to program their subconscious, putting them under the control of a superior intelligence. They had probably stolen lots of phones and were starting up some kind of worldwide network through which to hack into the world’s defence systems…

  “Calm down,” reasoned Ben, “why does it all have to be so complicated and hostile? I reckon they’re just having fun. They’re probably friendly intelligent animals who are just taking an interest in our stuff.”

  But Alf was not listening.

  “We’re in a dangerous situation here,” he said grimly. “These creatures are operating with both cunning and ingenuity. They probably know that we suspect something and it concerns me that they are not trying to hide from us. They have allowed us to find them – why? We have to view this from a new perspective if we’re going to outsmart them. There may be a hierarchy; they’re probably just the minions of some superpower that’s hiding out in the National Park somewhere. I mean seriously, why haven’t they been seen and documented before? They must only have arrived recently and as you say they’re checking us out. Maybe…”

  “Maybe you’d better give your Dad’s phone back before he starts looking for it,” advised Ben interrupting him. “Otherwise we really will have some problems to deal with. Your phone is going to be dead soon… unless they find a way to recharge it.”

  “Better download this image first. It will be useful evidence for NASA.”

  “The more photos we can get the better,” Ben agreed.

  When they returned to the house however they were faced with an unexpected problem. The photo when transferred to a larger screen did not look real – there was something distinctly unnatural about it.

  “What have you done to it?” Ben frowned.

  “I haven’t done anything! I just downloaded it and it looks... well it looks like a painting!”
Alf zoomed in on the image and it was evident that there were indeed tiny brush strokes and irregularities. It made no sense. Why would the bug dragons be sending pictures of themselves as paintings?”

  “You must have done something!” Ben insisted. “Check out the phone screen again.”

  They did so and a close inspection proved the same result. It was definitely a painting. “That’s crazy,” Ben objected. “It didn’t look like a painting when we first saw it! It’s not like they could delete a picture they sent and then replace it!”

  “I don’t know... we didn’t look at it this closely...”

  “Yes we did. Well I did.”

  “Not sure if it looked different then or not. It’s a pretty detailed painting...”

  As far as Ben was concerned it only proved that the bug dragons were artistic as well as intelligent. They were also jokers who were playing games with them and enjoying having the upper hand - but there was nothing hostile in that.

  Alf disagreed. “I’d say they don’t want us to have real evidence which makes their motives even more suspicious.”

  There wasn’t much else they could do at that point apart from add to their notes - even a colour painting was better than nothing. Upon closer examination a few subtle differences between individuals became apparent.

  “I reckon the boys have this frilly gland thing behind the ears and the girls don’t,” said Alf.

  “Maybe. The ones with the gland also seem to have more hair around their necks – a bit like beards perhaps?”

  “Growler has to be a boy.”

  “Unless he’s a tank lady like Mrs Doyle. But shouldn’t there be like… other bits if they’re boys?”

  “Nah. It’s inverted on reptiles. Like as if you push the finger in on a rubber glove.”

  “Oh,” said Ben, trying to imagine how that would work. He did two line drawings to add to their notes, labelling every anatomical feature he could think of.

  “You don’t need to label the legs,” said Alf critically.

  “You want to do this?”

  “No.”

  “Well then.”

  “We don’t know what that frilly gland is for.”

  “So we need to find out! Maybe it makes a smell for attracting a mate. Or maybe, along with the hairs on the legs, it has to do with making other things like that flower, glow.”

  “I wonder what happens if you squeeze it?”

  “Good luck with that!”

  A few days later and little had changed. The bug dragons had not called anyone (that they knew of) and Alf had managed to fob off questions about his lack of phone by saying he had left it at Ben’s. Then one morning, Ben found it sitting outside on his windowsill, dead but undamaged. How long had it been there?

  Finding the phone did at least suggest that Alf’s concern about hostile intentions was unfounded. When the phone was recharged, they found a series of pictures on it which only proved to confirm Ben’s theory that bug dragons enjoy being silly.

  “I’m not sure that NASA will see this as a threat,” he said as they contemplated a particularly ridiculous ‘selfie’ of Scamp pulling a face. “But these are all paintings again. I mean what’s with that? Why would anyone want to paint someone looking like this?”

  “Can’t imagine.” Alf straightened up and folded his arms. “Scroll through them again… I think I’m right about the boy/ girl thing. There are obvious differences. And man, there are a lot of them - if this picture is accurate! We just need to see them live one more time and take a proper photo. Next time I’ll tie the phone to my body so they can’t take it!”

  As it turned out that was not so difficult to arrange. The Bug dragons began to visit the garden more often and Ben got in the habit of checking outside if he got up in the night. When his searches were rewarded, he would sneak down the road to his friend’s house and activate the ‘wake up knocker’ they had installed on the front fence. Further attempts at photography however were unsuccessful – every picture they took still came out looking like a painting!

  Alf was ‘bamboozled’. He tried photographing Ben and got a normal photo, which was even more bamboozling. The camera on his phone had clearly been sabotaged.

  Mouse enjoyed posing for the camera and certainly understood what it did - but the results of successive ‘photographs’ were even more bizarre. As more images were taken, they began to change from colour paintings to detailed pencil illustrations and from there to quick sketches, as if the camera was protesting that it was getting tired!

  The bug dragons were definitely getting tamer. One evening Mouse even flew out and landed on Ben’s arm and that was when they realised that he liked the colour blue. He refused to touch Alf because Alf’s pyjamas were red, but when Alf borrowed Ben’s blue dressing gown Mouse was happy to climb on him. This was a feature in many individuals; they all had a favourite colour and it was usually one that co-ordinated with their hair.

  Mouse could run vertically up a fence and even upside down across the eaves of the house. Alf said that was because the little pads on his feet were ribbed like a gecko’s. They also clocked him running through a two metre tube in 2.13 seconds flat.

  ‘Mouse is a very curius bug dragon and likes to explore,’ wrote Ben in their project book. ‘He can climb really well and his feet stick to things so he can go upside down.’

  “That’s not how you spell ‘curious’” said Alf. “It has an ‘o’ before the ‘u.’”

  “You write it then,” said Ben as he tried to squash an ‘o’ in without spoiling the look of his work. He was sitting at Alf’s desk trying to work between an army of Orc figurines and a disorganised pile of science fiction magazines, so he was feeling a bit like an ‘o’ himself.

  Over successive nights more characters were added to the list of regulars. There was Truffles who always seemed to be digging for worms in the vegetable patch, ‘Ruby’ distinct in her redness with no other colours at all, ‘Crumbles’ who was bright violet with gold hair and UV who had a beautiful voice and loved to sing to the stars.

  “She looks like a light bulb. Luminous - like blown glass,” whispered Ben.

  Alf nodded. “Sounds better than your Mum too.”

  Ben wasn’t sure how to reply to that. Whilst he didn’t enjoy his mother’s singing, he felt that it was his own privilege to criticise her.

  UV had a devoted audience of other bug-dragons in the tree and the boys stood quietly underneath, listening.

  “I wonder what she’s singing about?” Ben murmured.

  “Probably projecting ultra-sonic sounds to something in orbit,” said Alf.

  “She’s not that loud!”

  “I said ultra-sonic. We may not be able to hear all of it. Keep your eyes peeled for UFO’s – I’ve started making a laser proof shield out of an old BBQ plate, but I’m having trouble fixing the handle. For now, just be ready to dive for cover if they’re armed.”

  Ben rolled his eyes.

  “We’re nearly done with this now,” said Alf, “although I’d still like to do more experimenting with food. All we know is that they do like meat and don’t like killer pythons or carrots.”

  Alf ate a lot of carrots. It was the one vegetable apart from potato that he actually enjoyed. His mother made great efforts to broaden his intake of fruit and vegetables – everything from creatively disguising them, telling him all the health benefits if he did and the nutrition deficiencies if he didn’t, rewards, threats and stand offs. On one such occasion, Alf had sat at the table staring at a single snow-pea for three hours because he wasn’t allowed to leave until he ate it. He did eat it in the end, but it was a shallow victory for his mother who was mentally exhausted by the effort.

  “I’m positive they use echo location,” Alf said. “Just like bats. Horseshoe bats can fly in the dark and pick out a spider on a web using only the sounds they transmit. These guys have big ears you see, and they make high pitched noises. Maybe they also eat spiders.”

  “I’m not catch
ing spiders for them.”

  “I wonder if they’d tackle a huntsman? I saw one on the laundry wall this morning.”

  “If you want to catch huntsmen go for it – but I reckon we should try something easier.”

  Alf wanted to try the bug dragons on egg. Apparently Gerald Durrell had fed egg and mince to his captive anteaters as a substitute for ants and they really liked it. Ben pointed out that just because anteaters liked egg it didn’t mean bug dragons would Ben didn’t like eggs in any form.

  “Most carnivores like egg,” argued Alf. “Even Lister likes egg…” Lister was a pet rat that lived in a tank in Alf’s room. Alf wasn’t supposed to have pets in his room but Lister had been captured as a young rat, sneaked inside and fed with parrot mix and leftovers for a good week before he was discovered. Apparently it was deemed ok so long as the ‘damn thing never got out.’ Alf’s family also had a mongrel dog, ‘Minnie,’ that looked like the dog version of a woolly mammoth, and a goldfish that his mother had fondly named ‘Mr Darcy’.

  “The next thing we need to do is track down where they live,” said Alf. “Problem is they always seem to travel at warp speed. I reckon we can get the location of their secret headquarters from Mouse if you continue seeing him and gaining his trust.”

  “How on earth am I gonna get that out of him?” asked Ben. “I don’t understand what he’s saying!”

  “We need to attempt some intelligent communication with them – y’know pointing at things and saying names and stuff.” Alf pointed to himself and said ‘Alf’ loudly and clearly before pointing to a tree and saying ‘Tree.’ They would probably be smart enough to get that.

  “Well that’ll be your job,” said Ben. “It didn’t exactly work for me last time. Mouse seems to understand what I want, but his noises are impossible. You’re the one who’s good at words and stuff.”

  Alf nodded. His parents reckoned that he started talking in utero and the first word he had spoken as a baby from all accounts was ‘ambulance.’

  “Next time I’ll try to make a recording of their noises,” he said. “Maybe you could fit Mouse with a miniature tracking device?”