Tesser: A Dragon Among Us (A Reemergence Novel)

by Philbrook, Chris

  "My kind began to get quite tired forty two seasons past. Like the sun had set for good, though the light above kept shining."

  Tesser nodded knowingly. "I know exactly what you mean. I'm sorry your life has been so strange of late."

  The tree hummed softly before speaking again. "It has gotten better. I've been moving closer to this street for many days now. I don’t move very quickly, being a tree and all, and humans are very tough to manage when they see a hamadryad walking about. I've been very cautious. There's a different light coming from here. Coming from you, I think. I wanted to be near it. It feels good to be warm again."

  "I'm glad I could help, Ellen. Can you speak with other dryads? Other hamadryads?"

  "I could get them a message, though it is very hard for me. I will need to sleep for many days and nights to recover. But if it is important, I will do it for you, Tesser."

  Abe looked around, waiting for someone to walk or drive by as the three men stood in the middle of the sidewalk, openly talking and listening to a tree, but no one came. An empty street at this hour was a freak moment of chance.

  "Can you ask the treekind what happened to the amethyst dragon? And can you tell them to be patient? I think the world is about to change again, and this time, for the better of all." Tesser spoke with conviction.

  "Of course. Can I sleep right here? Is this safe?" Ellen asked.

  Tesser turned, half-naked, to face his friends. "Mr. Doyle, do you think it would be prudent for Ellen to move into your garden? I think she's far less likely to feel the scrape of an errant saw blade at her feet if she were safely behind your small fence."

  Mr. Doyle was slack-jawed.

  Ha! He has no idea what's going on right now. Arrogant old fuck. This is awesome. I saw this thing before him. I'll never let him live it down!

  "Mr. Doyle?"

  "Yes, Tesser!" Mr. Doyle blurted. "She, Ellen, may move to my garden, though I don't know how long she plans on staying."

  Ellen's paper mouth cracked into a happy smile. "I would live there as long as you would have me. Having a hamadryad as a neighbor has many benefits."

  Mr. Doyle stepped forward. "Despite my raving paranoia regarding all things supernatural, I shall grant you your wish and be honored to have you as a guest in my garden. Please Ellen, move into my front yard. I would love to have you as my neighbor."

  God, he looks nervous and freaking excited all at the same time. What a relief to know I'm not the only one.

  "Then it's settled," Tesser said and clapped his hands together.

  "Let me send your message, and once the night has fully dropped down upon us, I will move over to where you wish," Ellen said, her voice trailing off into the sound of a breeze between her branches.

  "A dryad's sending. This will be in your memories for a very long time, I think," Tesser said as he backed up to where Mr. Doyle and Abe stood.

  The tree's top swayed to and fro, as if a gale force wind was building in the air, though there was none. One by one, the branches rippled, turning the leaves of the tree up and over. Were it not for the humidity and stale wind all around them, they could be fooled into thinking a tornado was swirling right over the magical birch, just feet away. Then, suddenly, a real wind picked up. The air started slowly at first, moving just enough to cool the sweat on Abe's brow, but then began to move faster, much faster. The leaves of the tree flickered back and forth, and, suddenly, giving off a faint plinking noise, they all snapped free and hovered in midair, frozen like a painting.

  The gust exploded upwards and wicked away all of Ellen's leaves into the darkening night sky, where they scattered in every imaginable direction high above, unseen by the millions of people below.

  Tesser, still wet and wearing only a towel in the street, stood happily. "Thank you, Ellen."

  The tree tilted forward, inclining itself humbly.

  "That might've been the coolest thing I've ever seen," Abe said softly.

  "How many trees will that… message reach?" Mr. Doyle asked.

  Tesser shrugged. "It's hard to say. It depends on how many dryads there are near here and how many of them are still awake and capable of receiving her sending. When I roamed the earth long ago, a sending like the one we just saw would reach a hundred dryads, maybe two hundred. Now, it is harder to say."

  "What do you hope to accomplish by having her send that message?" Abe asked.

  "Just that, Abe. Hope. It's one of the most magical things in all the world, right up there with love, faith, and wonder. Without it, there's very little reason to go on. I have hope, and it's important that all the special things in this world that have faded away have hope too."

  The three men left Ellen to rest before her move and returned back to the brownstone. Tesser left wet footprints on the sidewalk as he went.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Matty Rindahl

  So. Much. Data.

  Matty was at her desk, eyes locked onto the monitor where spreadsheet after spreadsheet tantalized her with hidden details. This was something she was good at: finding the needle in the haystack. This was a large haystack.

  She'd been stuck at this desk, many stories above the underground containment facility where the world's only dragon was kept in a medical coma for experimentation purposes. It sickened her if she thought about it, so she tried to bury herself in the research.

  It was proving to be a momentous task to isolate usable information from the batteries of tests they ran. It was almost like the purple beast below was shifting about the answers its very body gave to elude being quantified.

  DNA tests had revealed not one, but eighteen unique results for the dragon: a different result for every test they had run. Some of the tests showed a male result, some a female, though the physical evidence pointed that the creature was female.

  Blood panels came back with numbers that didn’t make any sense either. Blood type results changed daily, and as soon as they tried to start predicting what the numbers would be on cholesterol, potassium, protein, phosphates, and sugars, the numbers would go whacky on them. The lab geeks were going gray.

  It's like she's defying us in the only way she can.

  Matty was on the fringe of the development departments related to Project Amethyst. They were taking the multitudes of samples and finding applications for them. Two such sub-projects had sent out emails earlier that day, and Matty took a break to read them.

  The first was titled "White Blood Cell Tests: Phase 13."

  Phase thirteen? Shit, this has been going on for some time now.

  The email contained enormous amounts of scientific data: control information, dates, trial codes, tests and retests, and summaries. It was a mountain of info, and Matty skipped directly to the cause for Phase Thirteen. The hypothesis. The researchers believed that when the dragon's white blood cells were applied to cancer cells, the dragon's white blood cells would eat away at the cancer, eliminating it.

  The email's tone seemed to support that idea, though the blood cells needed a fair amount of time to star their work, and if done wrong, the dragon blood destroyed the cancer ridden patient faster than the cancer was.

  Jesus. Her blood can cure cancer?

  With that impossible thought, she closed that email and went on to the next one. It carried a heavy title: “Possible names Dragon Skin patent”.

  Dragon Skin?

  Apparently, Fitzgerald Industries was working on using the dragon's scales to create body armor for the military. According to the ballistics data that Matty could barely decipher, the armor was performing very well. The email went on to say that the basic armor design incorporating small scales from the dragon's body were coming in at "Level IV," and the heavier armor that used only larger, thicker scales was "clearly Level V."

  Level Five. That sounds really intimidating.

  A quick Googling of body armor told her that Level V armor was cutting edge and could stop most high velocity military rounds. It was still classified and highly secretive, an
d the government wanted it developed very badly. When she returned to the email, she saw multiple mentions of how much the State Department wanted lightweight Level Four and Level Five armor.

  Prices of three to five thousand dollars per suit of the Level Four seemed to be reasonable. The discussion of raising the price to six thousand for the government was had as well.

  Sticking it to the Feds.

  The email went on to calculate the rate at which the scales regenerated after being removed, and the overall number of dragon scales that could be harvested within a given calendar year. The gross dollar amount was in the mid-eight-figure range at the lowest end.

  Christ, that's just armor. How much money could we make if we could cure cancer?

  Matty closed the emails and sat back in her chair. It was a very expensive office chair and was very comfortable. She spun in a circle, feeling waves of confliction wash over her.

  I don't like this. I feel like keeping that creature alive down there is somehow wrong. After seeing those wispy, beautiful wings, I can't stop thinking about what it would look like soaring in the sky, free and beautiful.

  Matty closed her eyes and tried to envision it. The image came to her quickly and freely, bringing a smile to her face.

  But if we can cure cancer? And if this body armor project pans out, how many lives could be saved? Soldier's lives. Police and politicians alike. Well, maybe not the politicians, but still. We're talking about millions of lives saved, maybe more if we don't give the body armor to the politicians.

  She needed a break. Something to cheer her up and get her mind off of the entire project. She picked up her phone and dialed the Boston office. A few prompts of the menu later, she was talking to her old boss, Alexis. She couldn't say what she was doing now, but she could vent about how much stress it was putting her under.

  "Girl, I totally understand you. The more money they pay you, the less joy you have in life. It's an inverse ratio, hun," Alexis said.

  God, I love her. I should've stayed in her department.

  "Yeah. I don't know, Alexis. This project is great, my office is great, and I know I'm doing good, important work; I'm just feeling it. I need to buy a new vibrator or something. Watch some Twilight movies and cheer myself up with a bottle of moscato."

  Alexis laughed. "Well, if you're gonna go that route, I'd suggest boxed wine. But a smart girl would realize that she cannot find happiness with cheap wine and some C batteries. You need to get out, girl. You're a cat away from a cliché."

  It was Matty's turn to laugh at the redhead. "What are you suggesting? We get dressed up for no good reason and go out to dinner?"

  "That's just the start, lady. After you and I eat a salad, wishing we were eating a burger, we are going out to a nightclub filled with young men that we will not care about, proceed to make real bad decisions that will feel real good in the moment, and we will not regret those decisions in the morning."

  "Alexis, when was the last time I told you I loved you?"

  "Say it. It'll make you feel better."

  "Alexis, I love you." Matty giggled.

  "And I love you too. I'm free Friday. Hey, we can celebrate the arrival of September! That's a good enough reason to drink fruity cocktails and hope we remember condoms. You can't trust these cubs nowadays, they're all into going bareback on ya."

  "You're filthy."

  "I'm not getting any younger, my dear. The urge to make a baby is clawing at me like my need for dark chocolate. Cutting to the quick gets me what I want sooner and that means I get more of it in the long run. I'll see you on Friday, at your place at eight. Wear something slutty."

  "I don't think I own anything slutty." Matty had to think on it.

  "Fine then. Tomorrow. Six o’clock. We're going shopping. And forming a battle plan for Friday. When I'm done with you, all the boys will want a piece."

  "But what if I want to meet a nice guy, Alexis? What if this is about settling down?" Matty baited.

  "I'm just going to go ahead and hang up on you. See you tomorrow night, sweetie! Muah!"

  Alexis hung up the phone and Matty did the same. It was actually exciting for her to think about going shopping and going out. She hadn't even attempted to make herself look pretty since the miscarriage and break-up with Max.

  I'm long overdue to feel wanted. I want to be wanted.

  A rejuvenated Matty spun her chair round in circles, and tried to imagine what the boy she'd make a bad decision with. The image of the naked hobo strangely kept coming to the front of her mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Tesser

  I am thankful for all the resources here. Mr. Doyle and Abe have been gracious hosts, providing whatever I've asked of them. Daily, Abe presses me to reveal my true Dragon form, but this is not the time and certainly not the place. My sudden appearance in this city in full form would throw everything into a tailspin. Amusing saying. Tailspin. A species unable of achieving flight has invented a dozen now well-known sayings based on the science of taking to the air in technological contraptions.

  Good for them.

  Abe was sitting in the living room on the first floor of Mr. Doyle's home. They'd been sitting in silence for hours together as Tesser diligently searched online with a new laptop for signs of his lost companion, Kaula. He had already been introduced to The Delphian Covenant, as well as WWS, and while he'd been able to learn a fair amount about the goings-on of modern society, there was an utter and total lack of anything meaningfully draconic. Accurately draconic, that is.

  "In a world so connected, I am surprised that all of the other dragons have remained out of the media," Tesser said to Abe.

  Abe looked up from his B.P.R.D. comic, somewhat surprised by the statement. They'd both been quiet for a long time. "You're incredibly intelligent creatures, Tesser. You can shape-shift, fly, and I'm sure that even with Kaula missing, many of you can work some impressive magic. It's no surprise to me."

  Tesser shook his head. "Some of us can't shape-shift. And we are not all incredibly intelligent."

  "Really?" Abe sat the comic down in his lap.

  "Yeah. Kiarohn? The dragon that spoke to us in the void. The blue? Kia can't shape shift. Also can't land."

  "No shit? Like he has no legs?" Abe was fascinated.

  Tesser laughed a bit. "Actually, Kiarohn doesn't have any. That's true. Kia is the dragon of wind. If Blue were to land, the air all across the Earth would stop blowing. Weather would be dramatically affected, droughts would occur, all manner of bad things."

  Abe laughed. "You're telling me the only reason we have breezes and rain is because of a legless blue dragon that can't ever stop flying?"

  "Well, Kiarohn isn't the only reason but certainly the most pertinent one."

  "You gotta be shitting me. Scientists have all this crap figured out, man. I took environmental science in college. Moon phases, global warming, ocean currents. There's a bunch of things that contribute to our weather system.

  Tesser couldn't help but agree, "Yes, but what exactly contributes to those powers? You think the currents stir themselves up? You think the wind blows in a pattern over and over due to luck? Chance? Maybe, I suppose. Or maybe it's that your science sees only what it can find, and the more we believe in a thing, the more real it becomes."

  "Belief defining reality?"

  "Well said," Tesser muttered, turning back to his laptop.

  "I would've thought a blue dragon would've been in charge of water. Water is often characterized as being blue."

  Tesser shrugged and muttered, "The dragon of water is also a shade of blue. More of a blue-green, however. She has legs."

  "Who's the dumb one?" Abe asked.

  "Oh Garamos for certain. He's an anti-social brute that likes to dig holes and complain about all the things he can't change. Insufferable, but he's family."

  Abe shook his head, smiling at the absurdity of it all. "No word from Ellen's sending yet?"

  Tesser shook his head, never looking up, "No. Sh
e's still resting. The amount of effort that a hamadryad puts into a sending is off the charts. To be a tree and give up all your leaves? It's the equivalent of a long fast for a human. I hope she'll have something to tell us in a few weeks."

  Abe watched Tesser for a moment. The dragon was focused, no, obsessed with searching. It was becoming a detriment. The dragon hadn't stepped outside in days and Abe was convinced Tesser would lose some of his innate essence if he pored too much effort and hope into the internet. It was appearing that the internet was a time-suck for dragons as well as humans. It was time for action.

  "Get up, we're going out to dinner."

  Tesser looked up, just a smidge confused. "What? Why would we do that? We have plenty of food here."

  "Because we're men and men need to go out and eat food. Properly cooked meat, if possible. You've been cooped up in this place for days on end, nose buried in the internet with nothing to show for it, and I want to go out to eat for the sake of Pete."

  "Who is Pete?"

  "Ever seen Short Circuit?" Abe stood up.

  "I've been asleep for a very long time, Abe."

  "Oh, yeah. We'll watch it sometime. I own the DVD. VHS too actually. Come with me. There's got to be a nice suit in a closet upstairs somewhere."

  The two men got off the couches and started towards the massive staircase. "Will Mr. Doyle come along? I would think an invitation is in order," Tesser asked.

  "Fuck him. Curmudgeony old shit."

  This might be fun.

  *****

  Three hours and a pair of almost-matching, classy, vintage pinstripe suits later, Tesser and Abe were sitting in the North End of Boston at a fairly pricey Italian restaurant. The hustle and bustle in the establishment was electric. People, young and old, vintage and cutting-edge, sat in every chair and every barstool. It was a cross-section of city life, and it was thrilling to be among it.