by Dan Koboldt
Human therapeutics. That meant gene therapy, or customized small molecules. Maybe even a trial, and I could pick the patients. Connor would be at the top of that list.
“There’s also a memorandum in which I recommend you for a seat on the company’s board of directors, in the newly created position of employee advocate.”
“Is that a voting membership?” I asked.
He chuckled. “It wasn’t, but it can be.”
I nodded but didn’t say more. My head was spinning.
Greaves stacked the two papers on top of one another and handed them both to me. “I want you to come in Monday morning, and bring whichever of these letters you want me to sign.”
I got out of the car, clutching both letters in my hand, and watched the dark SUV drive away.
CHAPTER SIXTY
WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?
Philadelphia, PA—The American Kennel Club announced today that its annual dog show will resume next year on Thanksgiving Day. The beloved event, which had been on hiatus since the onset of the canine epidemic, will include sixteen of the world’s most popular breeds and feature entries from around the world. Dog lovers everywhere celebrated the news.
“This is a dream come true. It really is,” said Katherine Oliver, a two-time category winner who specializes in German shepherds. “I’d just about given up hope.”
The event will be sponsored by Bingham Pharmaceuticals, whose biologic drug Canizumab received approval last month to treat the devastating canine facial tumor disease (CFTD). Hundreds of breeders have already received the drug and permission to administer it under compassionate-use exemptions. The reports thus far have supported an almost complete protective effect when delivered in the first sixty days of a dog’s life. With these encouraging results, breeders have taken their mating pairs out of expensive “clean facility” vivariums and brought them home to encourage, well, rapid production.
“We have a waiting list a mile long,” said one breeder, who declined to give his name.
Meanwhile, conservation agencies have begun delivering Canizumab to the few remaining gray wolf populations that have survived in the wild using specially baited “traps.” Experts caution, however, that the recovery of wild animal populations affected by CFTD will be measured in years, not days.
Recoveries in financial markets, however, have been rapid. Animal supply companies reported their best quarter in three years as investors jumped to capitalize on what is certain to be a booming market. On the other end of the pendulum, stocks of companies in the so-called dog replacement sector continue their sharp decline. Leading them is the Build-A-Dragon Company, a legacy of the late inventor Simon Redwood, whose board voted last week to remove Robert Greaves as CEO. He was replaced by Evelyn Chang, who headed the company’s genetic engineering team.
Dr. Chang admits that demand for some of their production models had diminished. “Even so, there are a number of niche markets where a dragon still holds tremendous appeal,” she said.
The bevy of good news has largely overshadowed a still-unresolved mystery. How did a “record-keeping error” cause one of the country’s leading pharmaceutical companies to misplace critical subjects from their efficacy trial? Where were they kept, and how did this serious mistake come to light? There is much to celebrate, but this reporter would still very much like to know.
Who let the dogs out?
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
New Directions
The call came on Saturday morning, when Summer and I were on a special geocache at the Apache Wash trailhead. An unusual cold front had kept the temperatures down, but we still started early in the morning. I wasn’t sure how long this would take, and I wanted to make the most of Summer’s off-hours—being at home while she was working had started to drive me a little crazy. That was one reason for starting early. The other was the fact that we were trying something new this time, and I really wanted it to work.
I pulled up behind Summer’s Jeep and put it in park. The dragons shot out of my car the second I opened my door, Octavius in the lead, and Benjy at his shoulder. I never got his name from Fulton, so I’d named him in the man’s memory. He and Octavius were born troublemakers and had grown especially close. Perhaps not as much as Nero and Otho, who could communicate almost silently. Hadrian and Titus, the green and orange dragons, acted more like rivals than bosom buddies. And last of all there was Marcus Aurelius, who had to be cajoled out of his doze in the backseat. It astonished me that genetically similar dragons could have such diverse personalities.
But they were a herd, all of them, and they’d even adopted an extra member outside the species. Riker lumbered out of Summer’s Jeep and was swarmed instantly in a hail of flapping wings. I skirted around the tangle of pig and dragons to hug Summer. “Hey you.”
“Hey.” She smiled that dazzling smile and hugged me back. “Did you bring it?”
“Yep.”
“Is this going to work?”
“One way to find out.” I jogged back to my Tesla, activating my bluetooth headset. “Call Connor.” The phone connected and barely rang once.
“N-terminus,” he answered.
“C-string.”
“Are we go for launch?”
“Give me a second.” I threw open the trunk and lifted out a quad-copter drone, careful to keep the rotors away from my car’s frame. Supposedly, this was one of the more durable camera drones available to civilians, but given how much Connor and I had spent, there was no need to test that claim at the moment. I set it on the ground two yards from my Tesla. Then I thought better of it and moved it another three yards. I pressed the power button, and green LEDs flashed in response. “All right, the drone is live.”
“Stand clear, please,” Connor said.
I called Octavius to my shoulder, which usually helped to keep his mates close. Summer clipped Riker onto his leash. Then the drone’s rotors spun and it ascended ten, twenty feet into the air. It held that altitude and rotated as Connor tested the controls. Octavius flicked his tongue in and out, watching it.
“Looking good,” I said. “How are the controls?”
“Smooth as silk,” he answered in my ear.
“Try the video.”
“Already running. Nice hat.”
Well, the video was working. “Thanks.”
“The first waypoint is about point-six miles down the trail. You ready?”
“Just about.”
The drone banked and zoomed off. Octavius clawed my shoulder.
“Ow! Fine, you can go. But don’t get too close to that thing,” I said.
He launched himself and winged off after the drone. The other dragons chirped excitedly and took off after him. Even Riker hurried forward, practically dragging Summer across the gentle dunes.
I couldn’t believe I didn’t think to try this before. Connor could use his ridiculous computing setup to be part of this from home, at least until he could get out here in person. The muscle biopsy that the Condors had allowed me to take showed classic signs of muscular atrophy, and genetic sequencing confirmed that Connor’s mutation was the only possible explanation. Dr. Sato helped me write up the research report and get us on fast-track for publication. A week later, Mom got a call from Connor’s doctor. They’d changed his variant’s classification to likely pathogenic. The irony continued to amaze me: it had been classified as uncertain because it was never seen before, and only changed classes when we told people that we’d seen it.
But the lab did us a solid—they connected Connor with a doctor in Ohio who was running a gene therapy trial for his form of SMA. Connor got in, and he was showing some improvement. All that because of two Condors who presented themselves to him like a gift from the sky. I hadn’t seen them since, but sometimes I had the eerie sense that they were near. Watching over us.
Connor’s voice came in my ear, bringing me back to the task at hand. “Could you move any slower? I’d like to get there before nightfall.”
“Don’t mak
e me kill the drone’s power,” I replied. We set out into the desert, six dragons, two geocachers, one pig, and one camera drone. This geocache didn’t stand a chance.
We’d just gotten back to the parking lot, still flush with victory, when my phone buzzed with an incoming call. Scottsdale area code, and the prefix looked familiar. “Connor, I’m getting another call. Hold on.”
“Make sure you put my drone back in its case. And a seatbelt.”
I rolled my eyes and switched over to the incoming call. “Hello?”
“Noah Parker,” a woman said.
I knew that voice. Funny how much I missed hearing her say my name that way. “Evelyn Chang.” I looked at Summer, whose eyebrows shot up. “How are you?”
“Well, thank you.”
“I should hope so. Allow me to express my congratulations to the new CEO.” And to the board of directors, God help you.
She laughed. “Oh, please don’t.”
“Fine. But I’m glad for you.”
“Thank you. Hey, are you free for lunch?”
“How soon?” I asked, mostly to cover my surprise.
“Mah shang,” she said. Right away, or literally on the horse.
I put the phone to my chest and whispered to Summer. “She wants to meet for lunch.”
“So meet her,” Summer said.
“I already promised you peanut butter and jelly.”
“We can do that tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I got back on the phone. “Lunch sounds good. Do you mind if my girlfriend tags along?”
“Of course not.” Somehow, I knew she was smiling.
“How about Phan Boi Chau’s?” I asked. That was a Vietnamese place in Scottsdale near the HQ. Good food, private booths, and always quiet.
“Perfect. See you at noon.”
Summer and I got there early, so we waited out front. A luxury sedan with dark windows pulled up to the curb. A driver hopped out to open the back door for his passenger.
When I saw it was Evelyn, I just had to smile. “Nihao.”
“Nihao,” she said.
Introductions have all kinds of rituals in Chinese culture. For whatever reason, that part of the audiobooks stuck with me. Always say the name of the more important person first. Luckily, Evelyn and I no longer worked together, so it was no contest.
“Summer, I’d like you to meet Evelyn,” I said.
They shook hands and said, “Nice to meet you.”
Evelyn smiled at me, her eyes twinkling with either pride or amusement. “Noah Parker.”
I shrugged and felt my cheeks heating. I know. Totally out of my league.
We settled into a quiet booth near the back. Summer and I had the booth side. Evelyn took the chair.
“It’s good to see you again,” she said.
“You, too,” I said. “How does it feel to have the reins?”
She shook her head. “I’m just helping the board figure things out.”
“Sure you are.” I winked at her.
“You know me too well.”
“How’s Wong?”
“The same.”
“That’s good.” At least he hadn’t been sent back to China. I missed the guy and his crooked grin.
Evelyn and I both ordered our favorites: a curry dish for her, green beans and garlic for me. Summer ordered the soup like an absolute pro. Yet another hidden talent of hers; I’d been to Phan Boi Chau’s a dozen times and still hadn’t worked up the courage.
“So, Summer, what kind of work do you do?” Evelyn asked.
“I’m an architect at Evans and Meyer.”
“Ooh, that’s a good firm. They built our headquarters.”
“Yes, we did.”
I half-choked on a crispy spring roll. She’d never told me that. Summer slapped my back a couple of times.
Evelyn leaned back, watching us. “You two are a good match.”
“Thanks.” Summer had kept her hand on my back and rubbed it softly. “I think so, too.”
I kept my mouth shut, and just enjoyed the moment.
We were halfway through the pot stickers by the time Evelyn finally got down to business.
“Listen, Noah. Build-A-Dragon is struggling,” she said.
I fought a smile but failed. “So I hear.” Sorry, not sorry. Greaves had given me what I thought was a hard choice. Summer and Connor were quick to point out that it really wasn’t. Bringing dogs back impacted the entire world. It was unfortunate that Build-A-Dragon had to pay the price for that. I knew things were tight, but the company really did have a fighting chance. There were still plenty of dragon lovers out there.
“With Robert gone, we have been discussing removing the points system to allow for bigger, better dragons.”
No points system. What a novel idea. I bit back a snarky comment. “You could really try some new things. Aerial guard dragons, maybe even seeing-eye dragons.” I had to stop myself from mentally designing the prototypes. Old habits die hard.
“We have a lot of work to do.” Evelyn agreed.
“Good for you.”
Evelyn smiled. “We are going to need our best designer.”
Oh, that’s clever. It was so perfectly subtle, so wonderfully Chinese, that I nearly laughed. But that wasn’t the way this game was played. “Did Korrapati leave?”
“You are very polite, Noah Parker.”
“When he wants to be,” Summer said. She winked at me, which took the sting out of it.
I looked at Evelyn. “I do miss it.”
“And we miss you.”
I smiled sadly. “The manner of my leaving was . . .” I trailed off, because so many words could have ended that sentence. Sudden. Awkward. Embarrassing. But perhaps even righteous.
“Unfortunate?” Evelyn offered.
We shared a laugh.
“That’s a great way to put it.” I felt the smile leave my face. “Still, I don’t know how to come back after that. Or why they’d let me.”
“They?”
“The board of directors.” Where I could have had a seat.
“They brought me in because they want results,” Evelyn said. “And I made it clear that my acceptance came with some conditions. One of them was you.”
A wonderful sense of elation bubbled up inside of me. I hadn’t known how much I wanted it. “So . . . I can have my old job back?”
“Not exactly,” Evelyn said.
“Oh.” Those two words crushed me. The elation fizzled as quickly as it had come. It crushed me a little, but I understood. It’s not like I could waltz back in and rejoin the ranks of the design team. “What, then?” I suppose I could come back and do something else, but design was all I knew. All I wanted to do.
“I was thinking my old job,” Evelyn said.
Oh my God. I inhaled slowly. Director of Dragon Design. It had a certain ring to it.
Evelyn smiled. She probably thought she had me. Before Summer, I’d have jumped at the opportunity. But that was part of why I brought my new conscience along.
I looked at Summer. “What do you think?”
Summer frowned. “I didn’t like the idea of engineered dragons in the first place.”
“I know.” Truth be told, I hadn’t imagined getting to go back to Build-A-Dragon after everything that had happened. But the real surprise was how much I wanted it. Maybe I care about dragons after all. It’s hard to let go of your dreams, especially when they’re staring you right in the face. Beckoning to you. But Summer mattered more. I tried to hide my disappointment. “I get it.”
“You know what, though?” She squeezed my hand. “I’m starting to come around.”
Author’s Note
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading my book! Domesticating Dragons combines two of my favorite things: genetics research, which has been my avocation for nearly two decades, and dragons, which I’ve loved for as long as I can remember. I had a hell of a time writing this and hope you e
njoyed the ride. If you liked it, please consider leaving a review at your favorite online retailer. If you really liked it, tell your family, friends, coworkers, and followers. Reviews and word of mouth are vital to newer authors like me, but they’re very hard to get.
If you’re a fan of realistic sci-fi, you might enjoy the Science in Sci-fi blog series (http://dankoboldt.com/science-in-scifi). Each week, I invite scientists, engineers, doctors, and other real-world experts to discuss their area of expertise as it applies to science fiction. To receive updates about new blog posts and my future books, please join my mailing list at http://dankoboldt.com/subscribe.
It means so much to me that you took a chance on my book. Thank you!
Sincerely,
Dan Koboldt
August 2020
Acknowledgments
When I first started writing this story in 2014, I had no idea how many people would help shape it into the novel it became. Insightful critiques from Dannie Morin, Sonia Hartl, Rachel Done, Michael Mammay, Ryan McLeod, and Chris Kerns improved it at every turn. My agent, Paul Stevens, applied his sharp editorial skills to several iterations, and also helped land this book at the right publisher.
I’m deeply grateful to the team at Baen Books. Tony Daniel and Toni Weisskopf acquired the manuscript and offered thoughtful edits; Christopher Ruocchio, Libby O’Brien, and David Afsharirad helped transform it into a marketable book. Thanks also to Dave Seeley, the artist responsible for the absolutely splendid cover.
The writing community has inspired and supported me from the beginning. I would not have come this far without my friends in the Clubhouse, Codex, SFWA, Impulse Authors Unite, and the Pitch Wars community. Last but not least, I would like to thank my family for their unwavering tolerance of my writing adventures.