Domesticating Dragons

by Dan Koboldt

  The snout, which had been poking out of the hole it made in the shell, quickly disappeared inside of it. I must have scared him.

  “It’s all right, little buddy,” I whispered.

  The egg trembled. A single claw poked through the hole the snout had made.

  “Yeah, that’s it.” I wondered if I should help him break the shell. What had Johnson done? I couldn’t remember him assisting the hatching process itself. He’d been kind of hands-off until the dragons got free.

  The claw shot downward, slicing through the eggshell like a Boy Scout unzipping a tent. The reddish-brown egg split apart at the seam. The two halves clattered to the table in a puddle of amniotic goo, revealing a curled-up little reptile the color of desert sand.

  He was so tiny, so comically small, that I laughed out loud. “Well, look at you!”

  He uncurled his neck and looked at me with bright little emerald eyes. My breath caught. I could see the intelligence there, the cleverness. It was like he knew me and what I’d done and how he’d come to be. Ten seconds out of the egg. I mean, he knew.

  “Ho-ly crap,” I whispered.

  He blinked and flicked out his tongue, as if sampling the sound of my voice.

  Shit, the imprinting exercise. I’d almost forgotten.

  I ran to the microfridge and yanked it open. “Come on, let there be some raw meat.”

  I shoved aside the takeout containers and spotted a plastic-wrapped package behind them. Sliced pork shoulder, which I’d planned to grill out on the balcony. “Yes!”

  Meanwhile, the dragonet had stood on shaky legs, teetered back and forth, and then tottered closer to the desk lamp.

  I ripped the plastic off the package and dumped the meat on the cutting board. Found my steak knife in the sink, and started slicing the steaks into long, jagged pieces. The dragon’s little head pivoted in my direction.

  “Cutting as fast as I can,” I said.

  He flicked his pink tongue in and out.

  I grabbed a fistful of the meat and walked back to the table. “Here you go, little dude.” I took one piece and dangled it before him.

  He unfolded wings from his back. Lamplight shone through their paper-thin webbing. I leaned closer so he wouldn’t have as much ground to cover. Imprinting was fine and good, but if he hurt himself, it’s not like I could run to the vet with my unlicensed prototype dragon.

  He lowered his wings and spread them out to either side, like a gymnast on a balance beam. He crept toward me, his nails clicking faintly on the wood. Catlike eyes fixed on the meat, as it swung back and forth between my fingers. Six inches away, he paused.

  Crap.

  “It’s all right,” I whispered.

  He held still, his eyes flickering back and forth between me and the meat.

  Well, if he didn’t want to make this easy, neither would I. “All right, forget it.” I shrugged and turned around.

  I made it two steps when I felt the draft of cold air against my neck. Leathery wings wrapped around my face. Tiny claws dug furrows into my bare arms.

  “Son of a bitch!” Survival instincts kicked in; I dropped the meat and fled into the living room.

  The dragonet released me and fluttered down to the floor to claim his prize.

  I shook my head. “You little punk.”

  He cocked his head at me, then started eating. Or tried to, at least. I’d cut the pieces the way Johnson had, for a decent-sized Rover hatchling. This little guy didn’t have the jaws or the teeth for it. I let him tug away for a couple of minutes—mostly out of pettiness, for the scratches he gave me—and then cut one of the pork chops into half-inch cubes.

  “Here.” I tossed one to him in a gentle, rainbow arc.

  He scrabbled aside and let it plop to the floor, leaving little oily splotches where it bounced. He looked at it, then back at me.

  “Go on. It’s all right.”

  He approached the cube warily, like a panther stalking its prey. He tested the meat with his tongue, then snapped it up in a single gulp.

  “See? It’s good.”

  He lifted his snout and made a high trill, like a gargling songbird.

  I laughed. “Is that your way of asking for more?”

  I tossed him another cube. This time, he snatched it out of midair and swallowed it in a single gulp. I fed him another five or six pieces in similar fashion. “That’s probably enough for now, eh?”

  He trilled again.

  “All right, one more.”

  I washed up while he wandered around the kitchen. Now that he’d stuffed himself with pork, he seemed to move less like an agile reptile, and more like a bowling ball with legs. His stomach bulged out. I hoped he wasn’t going to start throwing up. I sat on my couch, suddenly exhausted. The whole cloak-and-dagger thing took a bigger toll than I’d have guessed. The dragonet sidled up and stared up at the couch-cushion, as if sizing it up.

  “I don’t think you should—” I started.

  He leaped up, flapping his wings like a crazed turkey, and scrabbling for purchase on the front of the cushion. He cleared the edge and tumbled over, ending up in a little heap against the back of it. I resisted the urge to help him. Touching him this soon, when he felt vulnerable, might scare him. Not to mention the dignity factor. Intelligence and pride were linked in most animals, and I’d given this one more intelligence than any dragon we’d ever printed.

  So I looked away and pretended not to notice while he found his footing.

  He propped himself up in the center of the cushion. Not necessarily close to me, but not as far as way as he could have been, either. He folded his wings to his back and perched like a statue. Regal as a king on the throne.

  No, an emperor on the throne.

  “I think we should give you a name,” I said. “Would you like that?”

  He trilled an affirmative.

  I pulled up a list of famous emperors on my phone and try them out. “How about Julius?”

  He flicked his tongue out and shook his head, like a dog coming in from the rain.

  Guess that’s a no-go. “All right. Augustus?”

  Another headshake.

  “How about Nero?” A small part of me hoped he’d agree. It not only sounded cool but reminded me of one of my favorite old school sci-fi movies.

  He shook his head again, but less vigorously.

  We’re getting warmer. I tried a few more Romans, with no luck. Maybe I should try some East Asian emperors. Just before I pulled those up, I saw another name from Ancient Rome. Something about it felt fitting. “What about Octavius?”

  He didn’t react at first. I swear, I could see the wheels spinning in his tiny, clever head. Then he put his snout up in the air and crooned a high, happy note.

  I laughed. “All right, all right. Octavius it is.”

  He flopped around on the couch a bit more, but eventually settled in and dozed off. It was kind of cute to watch. I watched his little chest rise and fall and wondered, what am I going to do with you tomorrow?

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Facing the Music

  It dawned on me, as I got ready for work the next day, that I hadn’t really thought this whole hatch-the-dragon-at-home thing through. I had no way to contain a nascent reptile in my condo. Or to keep him fed, for that matter. The frozen pork might hold him for now but based on what I’d seen of the training manual, I’d need to get him some real food, soon. But they still expected me at work, and it was too late to call in sick.

  So I locked down my condo as best I could while Octavius ate breakfast.

  “Hey,” I said to him.

  Octavius looked up from his pile of hastily chopped pork.

  “I have to leave for a while.” A little part of me found it ridiculous that I was trying to talk to a day-old reptile. “Will you be okay here on your own?”

  He chirped once and went back to eating, which I took as a yes. I think he understood, though he also tried to follow me out the door as I left. This created another ten-minu
te delay as I coaxed him back inside and did the explanation all over again.

  Bottom line, I got to work half an hour later than usual. The whole way there, I worried about leaving Octavius for so long. I had no idea how the little dragon would handle being alone for nine hours. Maybe I should have locked him up, but I wanted to build his trust and didn’t think that was the best way to start. I kept mulling this over on my way in, and it distracted me enough that I didn’t notice Evelyn waiting for me in the design lab until I nearly ran her over.

  I stopped short. “Evelyn?”

  She straightened, as if she’d been lingering but didn’t want it to seem that way. Strange. She usually had a senior staff meeting first thing in the morning. Why would she skip it? A cold knot of discomfort started to form in my belly.

  “Noah Parker.” She didn’t smile. If anything, her face showed as little emotion as I’d ever seen on it. “Would you come to my office?”

  “Now?”

  “It’s important.”

  It wasn’t really a request, either. I nodded wordlessly and followed her. Crap, they already know. I wasn’t sure how, but my money was on Fulton. Maybe he suspected me in the elevator or saw something on his omnipresent security cameras. It didn’t matter. The guy was good at his job. I screwed up somehow, and now it was time to pay the piper.

  In Evelyn’s office, she took her chair, gestured me to the one facing it, and pressed the switch to activate the hermetic seal on her door. I didn’t look at her as I sat down. The palms of my hands grew damp with sweat.

  “I had a meeting with Robert this morning,” she said, without preamble. “About what you’ve done.”

  Shock and fear paralyzed me, like a rabbit that hears a hawk scream. I forced a swallow down my dry throat. “Okay . . .”

  “We want to keep this quiet.”

  She slid a legal-sized, sky-blue envelope across her table. It had my name typewritten on the front.

  I didn’t need to read it to know what it said. I’d been around long enough to see a few people get the dreaded blue envelope from HR. I tried to pick it up but couldn’t get my fingers to cooperate. I guess my hands were shaking. I palmed it across the cool glass to myself, clutched it against my chest, and stood to leave. I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say, really. This is the end.

  “Well, are you going to read it?”

  “Don’t need to,” I mumbled.

  She wrinkled her brow and frowned at me. “Open it, Noah.”

  I sighed. “Fine.” I flipped open the envelope and yanked out the folded letter. A second, rectangular sheet fluttered to the floor. White-blue-white-blue-white-blue. It looked like a check. I snatched it up and looked. Yeah, it was a check all right. For half a year’s salary and made out to me. “W—what is this?”

  “Cracking domestication has made this company solvent, at least for the moment. I told Robert it’s only right to reward the designer who helped make it happen.”

  “It was Wong’s design—”

  “He told me about your help. I also checked his code and recognized your trifecta in it. So I told Robert we had two designers who should share in the credit.”

  “You . . . talked about me to Robert Greaves?” The thought of him hearing my name gave me a little spike of pleasure. But I hardly noticed that against the wellspring of relief that flooded me. I’m not in trouble. My plan was still in motion.

  “He really believes that design is the key to our company’s future. It’s a new era for us, Noah.”

  I half-fell into the chair. The relief and shock turned my muscles to jelly. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Evelyn smiled. “Say that you’ll help me bring more dragons to the world.”

  “Try and stop me,” I said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  THE ROVER MANUAL

  THE BUILD-A-DRAGON COMPANY

  ROVER INSTRUCTION MANUAL, DRAFT 37 REV 1

  Dear Owner,

  Congratulations on your purchase of a Rover (TM) from the Build-A-Dragon Company! This manual contains important information on keeping your dragon healthy and happy (and your family safe) for your time together. Please read it carefully. If you have any questions or concerns about your new pet, DO NOT ATTEMPT TO RETURN IT.

  Instead, please call our 24-hour, multilingual customer support line. One of our Dragon Specialists will be happy to assist you.

  Delivery and Hatching

  By the time your Rover egg arrives at your door, the gestation period will be about halfway complete. Detailed instructions for incubating the egg will be included. Please read and follow them with care. Dragon eggs require vigilant temperature control. When the egg begins trembling and crackling, it is nearly ready to hatch. Keep it in a secure area, and make sure you have raw meat on hand to complete the vital imprinting exercise.

  Your Dragon’s Crate

  The crate that accompanies your Rover was custom-designed to serve as his house within your family home. In other words, don’t throw it away. Put the crate in a corner of your household away from any fans, electrical outlets, and sources of cold air. This will be your dragon’s fortress of solitude while he lives with you.

  Do not, under any circumstances, allow children or small pets to enter the crate.

  Feeding and Hydration

  Like any pet, your Rover should be offered food and water on a regular basis. We strongly recommend the Build-A-Dragon RepChow food, which contains a careful balance of protein, grains, and vitamins to keep your dragon healthy. If you insist on feeding him other food, aim for a combination of 60% protein, 20% vegetables, and 20% starches. For protein, pork is best, as our dragons seem to prefer it to other meats. However, he will also eat beef, poultry, or fish.

  Be sure to keep your dragon well-hydrated by offering 8 to 12 ounces of good clean water with every feeding. Sports drinks, soda, juice, and other beverages are not recommended. The Build-A-Dragon Company cannot assume any liability should you give your dragon alcohol.

  Scale, Tooth, and Claw Care

  You should have noticed that your dragon has scales, teeth, and claws. If it didn’t, we probably wouldn’t be able to call it a dragon, would we? In this section, you will learn about how to properly care for these parts of your pet.

  Scales are your dragon’s protective outer skin. As such, you should make sure that they remain intact and well cared-for. If you notice any dry patches, rub them gently with baby oil twice a day until the scales are back to normal.

  Your dragon may molt once every 6-8 months. This is normal. There is no need to mail the molted skin back to the Build-A-Dragon company.

  Dental care is vital to keep your Rover model healthy. You should brush his teeth every time that you brush your own. Just don’t use the same toothbrush.

  The nails on your dragon’s feet will grow throughout his lifetime. He will use them to dig, scratch, scrape, maim, and climb. If the nails grow too long from disuse, they may become uncomfortable. Provide a scratching post and encourage your Rover to use it instead of walls or furniture. If the nails get too long, you can trim them with the Build-A-Dragon ClawClipper. You can also ask your veterinarian to clip or grind the nails. Good luck with that.

  Exercise and Play Time

  Regular activity and play time will give your dragon a healthy lifestyle. Rovers love to play games like hide-and-seek, chase, fetch, and ambush. You can also take him for walks or hikes. Given the choice, however, a well-fed Rover will usually sneak off to take a nap. Instead, encourage your dragon to do some light activity following meals. You might think about doing the same, tubs!

  Dragon Safety

  Remember that your dragon, while friendly, is still a capable predator. He may attack birds, small animals, or other dragons if given the opportunity. Over time, he will grow loyal to the members of your family. He may protect them against real or perceived threats. Please keep this in mind if you or your children engage in any contact sports.

  Keep your dragon in a fenced are
a or on a leash at all times. Unlike the hog-hunting reptile, the Rover is not meant to live in the wild and cannot survive more than a few days on its own.

  Like many animals, dragons are territorial. Keep visitors and small pets away from your Rover’s crate and feeding areas at all times. If your dragon brings a shoe, child’s toy, or other object into his crate, he considers it his property. Reclaim it at your own risk.

  Do’s and Don’ts

  DO give your dragon a name and begin calling him by it right away.

  DON’T choose Rover. That’s ours.

  DO let your dragon explore your home, backyard, and neighborhood.

  DON’T let your dragon out of sight as he explores. Especially if there are other pets or small children in the vicinity.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Clipping Wings

  I drove home on a cloud, exhilarated at both the bonus and having kept Octavius a secret. For the moment, at least. Other hurdles loomed ahead—like keeping an unlicensed dragon in my condo within city limits—but I’d dodged the main bullet.

  Of course, all this assumed that he’d remained in my condo in the nine-odd hours since I’d left this morning. I hurried upstairs to my door, fumbled it open, and shut it quickly behind me. My condo waited in injured silence.

  “Octavius?” I crept toward the kitchen. The bowls of food lay empty on the wooden table, both of them licked clean. “Anybody home?”

  A smattering of spilled cereal pieces on the floor provided the first clue that something was amiss. They formed a messy trail to the pantry, where the cereal box and three others had been ripped apart. It looked like a trashcan after a raccoon’s gotten into it.