Two weeks. Jessi banged her head against the back of her chair. It was like knowing there was a road out of town, but having no gas and no map. It was possible, it was obviously possible. It just wasn’t what she knew how to do.
With a savage, unsatisfying click of the mouse, she closed the videos. Her email inbox was next, topped by a message from Chavah with the new photos. Jessi doubted it would be enough to diagnose, but telephoto was better than anything else they had.
The first two were profile shots, showing clearly a swelling along the mouth and the irritation where Kiba had been rubbing it. Chavah had caught one with the mouth open, and Jessi zoomed in to try to see details of the tongue and gums. Nothing conclusive. Kiba had been photographed among trees, and the dappled light made it difficult to determine discoloration. Jessi sighed.
The next photo was in bright sun, Kiba’s head resting on a rock. The photo was tight, the sunlit colors clear. The dragon’s eyes were on the viewer; he’d been aware of Chavah photographing him at a distance.
It was possible to go from trees to rocks in a few dozen feet, or he could be traveling across the park. Activity was an important health indicator. Chavah hadn’t included photo locations. But that was simple enough; Jessi clicked open the EXIF data on each image.
She copied the GPS coordinates of the first photo in the trees and pasted them into the reserve map. Then she copied the location of the rocky photo—and froze, leaving the data unpasted. There in the EXIF details was Camera maker: Samsung. Focal length: 4mm.
She switched back to the photo in the trees. Camera maker: Pentax. Focal length: 400 mm.
She looked at the rocky photo again. Camera maker: Samsung. Focal length: 4mm.
This photo had been taken with a cell phone. Up close. With the dragon looking directly at Chavah.
Jessi reached for her phone, started to text, decided to call instead. Chavah answered with her mouth full. “Hello?”
“I just got your photos of Kiba. They’re really helpful.”
“Oh, good! I was hoping you’d be able to tell—”
“We need to talk. Tonight.”
There was a pause. “Is this bad?”
“I don’t know.”
Chavah was already sitting in the conference room. She’d pulled a chair out for Jessi on the opposite side of the table.
Jessi opened without preamble. “I saw the photos. They’re good. But they’re not all distance photos.”
Her shoulders dropped. “How’d you know?”
“EXIF data.”
She dropped her forehead into the heel of her hand. “Stupid mistake.”
“You want to tell me why you were within touching distance of a dragon? A wild dragon? A wild dragon we believe is in pain?”
Chavah took a breath. “I was trying to decide whether to tell you. If I’d known Jackson had okayed a trainer… After we lost two dragons… Look, either we are totally hands-off or we take responsibility for them, we can’t go back and forth, and this is a critically endangered species, and wouldn’t it make more sense if we did everything we could to save them?”
“That’s a lot of justification, no explanation.”
“I started right after Freya died. That’s another reason I didn’t want to tell you; it would sound accusatory. But we obviously needed another way. And then when Gonzo died because we didn’t want to risk treating him, I blamed myself, because I hadn’t said anything. So I got more serious, put more time into it. And I knew if the board found out, I’d be gone, but they keep talking about eventually becoming an accredited facility, and so we’ve got to have some way to show we can care for these animals…”
“You’re still justifying.”
Chavah set her jaw. “I set up a training station, and I’ve been training the dragons, working toward cooperative care goals.”
Jessi knew, but hearing it so plainly was still shocking. “What have you done so far?”
“Felix and Kiba will recall to a signal, will station, will present with a chin rest for brief tactile examination. Sombra will recall and station, nothing else yet. Kiba will target his rostrum to a paper plate.” She smiled weakly. “I didn’t have a lot in the way of gear.”
Jessi was boggled. “What? You—translate all that.”
“Three dragons will come to the training station when called. Felix and Kiba will prop their heads on the rock—that’s how I took that photo—and let me touch them just for a second. And I can put Kiba’s target in different places and he’ll follow it to touch it.”
Jessi needed a moment to find words. “I have been in this room just begging for some way to treat these dragons, and you…”
“Do you think the other three would have let me?”
“Not a chance,” Jessi agreed. “But now we have a two week window and a head start, and I’m not giving either back. How close to killed have you been, and how many times?”
“Only once. Twice. The first time I tried touching Felix, he jumped and I jumped and that spooked him worse, and it took a long while for either of us to come back to station. But the big mistake was trying to touch Sombra. She flamed at me, and thank God the rock took the brunt of it and I just got singed.”
Realization hit Jessi. “Window Rock. You’re using Window Rock as a contact wall.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to just walk up to a dragon in the open and try to grab it, was I?”
Jessi grabbed a notepad. “What do you need to make this work? That I can have by tomorrow?”
Chavah’s expression melted into relief. “Really? It would save a lot of time if I didn’t have to catch and cut up my own rabbits.”
Window Rock was a large slab of rock coming off one of the ridges with a water-worn hole approximately an arm’s-length wide. The rocky outcropping itself was only a couple dozen feet wide. “You know,” Jessi said, “any dragon could just walk around the end.”
“Protected contact is not just to keep the trainer safe from the animal.” Chavah opened her bag. “It’s also to make the animal feel safe from the trainer—dragon gets unsure, she just pulls her head back, instant distance and barrier from the offending human. It helps the team trust each other. I got the idea to use Window Rock when I remembered a guy setting up a wall for some elephants in the middle of a field.” Chavah drew out a red and white circle of hot-glued craft foam from her camera backpack and taped it to the rock. “Now we go to the other side and wait.”
“What’s that?”
“That’s Felix’s recall. He’s probably the best, so I figured we’d start with him so you could see—”
“They have their own signs? Like, the bat-signal or something?”
Chavah grinned. “We don’t want them all coming and fighting over the training station, right? They each have their own sign. Oh, look!”
Jessi followed her gaze and saw Sombra near the top of the slope. Her neck curved as she looked down, and then with an irritated snort she moved off over the ridge.
“Not her sign,” Chavah said. “Now we wait for Felix to notice. It won’t be too long; they probably heard us coming.”
It was about fifteen minutes before Felix appeared. But he didn’t approach the wall.
“Back off,” Chavah told Jessi. “You’re the variation here.”
She moved back fifty feet, and after a moment the dragon descended to the rock wall. Chavah pressed the button on her training clicker and began praising as she reached into the cooler of chunked rabbit. “Look at you, what a fine dragon. Don’t mind her, you just have an audience today. You ready to show off?”
Felix hesitated, looking between Chavah and Jessi. Jessi didn’t know if it would be worse to remain where she was or move unexpectedly.
But even so—there was a dragon, standing ten feet in front of Chavah, eating chunks of rabbit off the ledge of the rock window, looking unsure but not flaming or mauling or devouring. It was amazing.
He dipped his head slight
ly, and Chavah clicked and then reached for a piece of rabbit. Felix ate it off the ledge, lifted his head to swallow, hesitated, dipped his head again. Chavah clicked and fed again. Their routine assured, Felix lowered his head to the ledge, touching his chin to the stone.
Jessi stopped breathing.
Chavah fed Felix, who swallowed and returned to the ledge each time. And then Chavah spoke, lifted her hand so the dragon could see, and slowly lowered it to touch the side of his snout. She clicked and fed.
For a moment Jessi could see not just the woman and dragon, but detailed examinations, questions settled, research, publications, conferences and lectures, books, all centering on this dragon’s choice to place his head within reach of her grasp.
She took a step forward, and Felix jerked his head back. Chavah stayed still, confused, but Felix snorted and retreated, glancing back as he left the station.
Chavah turned and saw Jessi, who held up her hands in apology. “I’m sorry. It was only one step.”
“That’s enough.” Chavah gestured. “But what do you think?”
Bloodwork. X-rays. Anatomy studies. Reproduction and conservation. “I think we’re going to save dragons.”
Jessi sighed. “I wish we didn’t have to talk by radio.”
The dragons were used to Chavah talking to them as she worked, and they didn’t seem to care about Jessi’s faint voice in a headset. If Jackson or the others had noticed Jessi and Chavah were more consistent with their radio checkouts, they hadn’t said anything. But then, Jessi and Chavah didn’t want to be noticed.
“I’ve been out here nearly every day for well over a year. I’ve been nothing but boring, until I opened the training station bar, and then that’s been nothing but predictable and within their control. Other humans, not so much. They don’t see you nearly so often, and when they do…”
“I was chasing Freya in a Jeep, and then she collapsed, and then she died.” Jessi nodded. “No one is going to trust me for a while. But while you’re a freakin’ brilliant trainer, you aren’t a vet.”
“We’re not going to get Kiba to let you handle his sore face in a week.”
“We’ve got one and a half.”
“The half is to teach him to work with treatment.”
“Oh.”
“Let me try again with the turkey baster. We can talk more on the next break.”
Chavah had a bucket of blood and meat juices, a turkey baster, and rain pants that would never be the same. When Kiba approached the window this morning, she’d started with simple nose touches to the paper plate, and then she started delaying her click; as he waited with snout touching the plate, she brought up the turkey baster and squirted blood into his teeth, well away from his swelling.
The first time had startled him, but not badly, and after a moment he’d decided he liked the blood baster and had returned for another repetition. Chavah explained she hoped he would, in anticipation of the baster, start opening his mouth as he pressed his rostrum to the plate, allowing her to peer inside.
During the break Kiba might have considered how to speed the delivery of his treat, for this time as soon as Chavah raised the plate overhead he touched it and opened his mouth a few inches. Jessi thought her heart might stop, seeing those gaping jaws with hand-width teeth at the level of Chavah’s face, but Chavah was so focused on trying to see through the teeth as she praised the dragon and brought up the baster that she seemed to forget to be afraid. “Good boy, that’s a very good boy, I can almost see, not quite, but that’s okay, you did your part, here you go!”
Jessi didn’t speak, not wanting to distract her.
Chavah reset, took a breath, held up the paper plate. Kiba put his snout to it and opened his mouth a few inches. Chavah waited, and Jessi wanted to click her own tongue, wondered why she delayed. But after a second Kiba gave a little sniff and opened his mouth wider. “Yes! Good boy! Oh, that’s so good, I’m gonna give you all the blood and here’s some rabbit and oh my gosh I see it Jessi I see it!”
Chavah lay out chunked rabbit for the dragon, ended the session, and sprinted to the shady tree to join Jessi. “Right inside the teeth on the lower jaw there’s something stuck in the gum, next to the tooth. Like wedged in the tooth-hole. All infected and nasty.”
“That’s a periodontal abscess,” Jessi said. “That’s fantastic. I mean, obviously not fantastic, but it’s treatable, more treatable than a periapical abscess or cancer.”
“We just have to get you into Kiba’s mouth.”
Jessi’s stomach lurched. “I stopped breathing, seeing that mouth open in front of your face. I can’t even imagine.”
“Oh, man, you should see it. It’s a heart-stopping view. I need a video camera mounted on—oh, that’s it! That’s how we’ll do it!”
Chavah had practiced again and again, giving so many saline injections to a pair of peaches that they were likely more salt than fruit now. She’d made a target stick that would stand on its own and practiced mouth clicks, freeing up her hands so she could treat medically with one and treat with blood with the other. She had accustomed Kiba to nitrile gloves and built up to a full forty seconds of open mouth while she basted his tongue with blood, edged her hand hesitantly into his mouth, and spritzed his tongue and gums with a misting bottle full of more blood.
Twice Kiba had decided he’d had enough, and she’d stood absolutely still as he huffed backward. But without any constraint to panic against, he’d stood a moment, considering, and then come back to the station. She’d taken it very slowly, and he’d not recoiled again, and then she’d gone home to practice sticking her peach a few dozen times more.
It was absolutely not what was standard. What they should have was a padded metal frame for Kiba to grip on cue, with a gap for her hand. What they should have had was a proper wall. What they should have had was more time so that they didn’t have to risk so much; if this went wrong, Kiba wouldn’t volunteer for training again, even if Chavah was still around to train.
If this worked, she would be ashamed to describe it to anyone who knew better.
All the great scientists experimented on themselves, Chavah told herself. Salk, Bier, Jekyll. It just shows confidence in your work.
“Are we ready?” Jessi asked. “And by that I mean, are you ready?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll never be more ready, so I guess this is it.”
They checked radios and cameras, she hung Kiba’s sign and drew on her gloves, and Jessi retreated to her distant tree.
Kiba arrived in a display of bright wings, pausing to rub uselessly at his mouth. The skin was wearing under repeated chafing, but that was only a symptom, they knew now. If she could clear the abscess, he’d stop rubbing, and his jaw would heal on its own.
She set up the target. “Okay, boy, let’s do this.”
Kiba approached and placed his nose directly on the paper plate. She made it worth his while, with plentiful squirts of blood. She looked through her safety glasses with the mounted camera. “Okay, I’m going in,” she said in a sing-song voice that sounded like praise. “First to numb the surface.”
She switched from the turkey baster to the misting bottle, today spraying both blood and lidocaine. “You’re a good boy, Kiba,” she said, clicking and setting chunks of rabbit on the ledge. “And now we count down two minutes.”
“Three minutes,” Jessi said in her ear. “Let’s be really sure he’s numb.”
Chavah tossed rabbit through the window, letting Kiba kill some time browsing for it, returning, browsing for another.
“Okay, phase two,” Jessi prompted.
Phase two scared her. “Phase two,” she repeated.
She replaced the high target, waited for Kiba to open his mouth, basted him once for luck, and then slid the first long syringe into the base of the inflamed mound. Did he flinch? Or was that her?
“Don’t forget to treat him!”
She fumbled for the baster and squeezed sever
al rounds of blood in. Kiba pulled back to swallow. Chavah’s heart was pounding, and she tried to take slow breaths; her agitation would only agitate the dragon.
“All good?”
“All good,” she tried to say, and she realized her mouth was dry. She hadn’t been praising Kiba, either; no wonder he was standing a few paces away, giving her side-eye. She licked her lips. “Halfway there, boy. Sort of. If we’re counting generously. Come on, we’ve got more targets here.”
Kiba came back, looked dubiously at her, touched the target, opened his mouth. She basted blood. Basted more blood. Basted more blood.
“You going to do this?”
“Right.” She reached one hand over the enormous teeth to the object protruding from the gum—a bone shard, she could see now. She braced her thumb against it and tried to slide it, but it did not move.
“If it could wiggle out, it wouldn’t be stuck in a mass of infection,” Jessi observed.
Chavah nodded before remembering it would bounce Jessi’s vision and basted more blood onto Kiba’s tongue. She was going to drown him in her procrastination.
She drew the scalpel from its clean sheath on her belt, sucked her breath, and cut into the reddened flesh alongside the bone shard. Kiba did not move. Chavah slit the abscess and forced herself to speak to the dragon. “Oh, you good boy, I’m doing it, dear God, oh this feels hideous, good boy.”
She threw the scalpel behind her, seized the bone, and drew it free with a sucking noise. Blood and pus began to ooze.
“Nice work. How’s the patient?”
Kiba had noticed something, but he seemed more perplexed than pained. It might be due as much to her worry as to any sensations coming through. “We’re taking a short break.” She ended the target, set rabbit on the ledge.
“You’re on a countdown with that lidocaine. You do not want him to start feeling it when you push on that.”
“I know.” She took a few breaths and pretended her pulse slowed. “Okay, next step, let’s go.”
Hear Me Roar Page 17