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Dragons of Science - Part 3

Attention! Attention all citizens! The industrial park containing science labs 1 through 14 are now off-limits to the public. A quarantine has been put in place to investigate various incidents, and determine a threat level to public health. Please treat the site as if it were under radiation protocol #17, extreme danger to biological life. I repeat, all citizens...

The warnings had been broadcasting themselves for days, ever since the first accident in the labs. Nobody was entirely sure just what was going on in there, but the general public was confident that the people in charge would do their best to keep them safe. After all, it wasn't the first time something had gone wrong in the name of Science.

Various containment crews had their hands full, trying to round up enlarged and mutated animals from around the affected area. More and more were popping up all over the place, and finding their way into the homes of the common citizen. Quite a few people rather liked these new plus-sized animals that had suddenly appeared in their midst, and found their company enjoyable. Who would say no to a big squishy lizard that sat on your lap like a cat, and purred when stroked? Upon notice of recall and capture of these "experimental" animals, most people hid them away and denied ever having seen the beasts.

To this day, an unknown amount of altered creatures are living in the world.

Various teams were sent into the epicentre of the energy release to try and do something about it, but they only succeeded in making things worse. Power of an unknown sort was pouring into the area, and work teams were vanishing one after another. Sometimes a fully suited and armoured team were sent into the labs to try and seal off whatever it was, but they were never heard from again.

Ultimately the decision was made to seal the area off, post modified radiation detectors all around the former lab site, and hope for the best. Dozens of people were ultimately reported missing, their cases left open and unsolved for years to come.

Meanwhile, a chubby purple dragon was doing his best to get comfortable inside a shipping container, within the cargo bay of a transport ship. The ship was on its way to Mars, which meant Greg had about a week to kill in the roomy hold. He spent most of the first day just sleeping, recovering his strength from the panic filled flight off planet. Early in the evening however, he woke up to the sound of his belly growling. His hastily grabbed bags of food were close at hand, and he made short work of the contents.

Licking his claws clean, and staring at the now empty plastic bags, the big dragon decided he'd really need to try hard to scavenge food from the ship, without alerting anyone to his presence. Hanging from the ceiling wasn't always going to be the solution. Slowly and carefully, Greg opened up the container doors, and poked his snout out into the open cargo bay. As was to be expected, there was nobody in sight. Everything was just as he left it earlier, with scattered farming implements here and there, and other things he tossed out of the container.

Grunting, he padded silently out into the bay, and went sniffing around. There was bound to be various things of use in storage, but most of it was likely buried under other sealed containers. He was a very strong dragon, but he was in doubt of his ability to lift an entire shipping container out of the way. Those things were heavy.

There was a large hatch at the front of the bay, that led to the rest of the ship. There would be several floors of passenger cabins, kitchens, service bays, and all the other little things a ship needed to be comfortable during a long trip. Greg found the hatch easy to open, and was pleased to see that no alarms went off when he used it. Either the ship didn't have any sensors built into the cargo bay, or nobody cared. Either option was good for Greg.

It was a slight squeeze to get his hide through the hatch and into the corridors of the ship, but he made it with a minimum of effort. The hallways were wide enough for several people to pass one another at a time, or for one pudgy dragon to get around. He did his best to keep off to one side, and not trip up anyone as he puttered around.

He poked his snout into a storage closet, and located a number of useful things. There was stacks of clean sheets, pillows, blankets, and other bedding items. Grinning impishly, he spent several hours carefully hauling piles of swag tucked under his wings. Apparently his invisibility hid anything tucked up close, as nobody saw piles of bedding floating around in the hallways. Or if they did, they didn't mention it to anyone else. Nobody wants to appear crazy, right? Better to just take a calming pill and go for a nap.

Bit by bit, Greg lined his borrowed container with soft things, building a comfortable nest to sleep in. Soon he had a very good bed indeed, with plenty of blankets should it get chilly. It likely wouldn't as ships were expertly climate controlled. But still, it was nice to curl up under a blanket at night. Even dragons needed security.

Next he gathered up the bags of seed, tools, and other equipment, and piled it all nearby. He figured that people might come through inspecting cargo, and he wanted to keep his presence hidden. The stuff was piled into the back of the container, and tucked out of the way. With the doors closed and latched from within, he was certain nobody on the outside would suspect anything was amiss.

As "night" fell by ships time, people went to bed, and most of the lights were turned off to help simulate darkness. It was of course never night or day on a ship, but simulating time of day helped people sleep better. Greg found it easier to get around when everyone was sleeping, and decided it would be best to only leave the cargo bay late at night. Continued poking around in closets and storage rooms earned him a bounty of preserved food, ration containers, water jugs, and other useful things to keep a hungry dragon going strong.

He was careful not to take too much from one place, so it hopefully wouldn't be noticed. Still, he managed to fetch enough to keep him fed. As the night wore on, he explored further into the recreational areas of the ship, and found something that set his tail to twitching. The ship had a pool of all things, with nicely warmed water, and various bubbling jets all over the place. Smiling, he splashed in with quite a lot of mirth, and enjoyed quite the nice bath indeed.

He delighted in rubbing up against the various water jets, letting them clean his scaled hide off expertly. He splashed and swam about, diving and enjoying hanging around at the bottom of the pool for a while. Finally he helped himself to the rows of public showers along one wall, scrubbing himself down with plenty of body-wash and hot water. The hallways likely smelled of very clean dragon as he padded back to the cargo bay, but everyone was asleep. The scent went unnoticed.

Sighing with contentment, Greg tucked himself into his modified container, and locked the doors tight. If he was stuck on a ship for a week, at least it looked like he was going to have plenty of fun. After all, he had the run of the place at night. Plus he loved to swim around in this new form of his, plus engage in other activities... Life was definitely good.

* * *

It didn't take long for Greg to make full use of his nights aboard ship. On his third day he raided a storage room near one passenger room or another, and found quite a few large jugs of soap. Mere minutes later the big pudgy dragon was emptying the lot into the big pool, and sitting there tail wagging as the surface frothed up with suds. He waited until the water jets made quite a thick layer of bubbles to play in, then slid into the frothy mass.

He spent hours simply lounging in the warm dragon sized bubble bath, swimming around, rubbing up against the water jets in all the right ways, and other bubble-filled shenanigans. He spent extra time in the showers afterwards to get all the encrusted soap fluff off his scales, but it was worth it. After a brief air dry, he once again went back to the cargo bay to sleep and hide. Early the next morning the stewards discovered that somebody had filled the pool with bubble soap, and had flooded most of the area with suds. Apparently the mass had been foaming up for hours on end, filling the pool room to the ceiling with foam, and spreading out like a blob into most of the decks nearby.

As a result, the soap supplies were locked up tight. It was determined that some passenger had decided to play a prank. Greg wasn't able to get into the supply lockers on future attempts, but he remembered the massive mound of bubbles fondly for some time after.

One evening Greg amused himself by opening up whatever shipping container he could get into, and poking through its contents. He found small vehicles, electric motors, wind turbines, solar panels, and even a few prepackaged fusion reactors, just waiting to be turned on somewhere in the colonies. One container contained various industrial supplies, obviously intended for factories or medical equipment. Something caught his eye in the pile of stuff however, and he reached in carefully to fish out a new prize.

It was a large tank of helium, equipped with all the right valves and hoses. Its intended use was unknown, but Greg had an idea of what he wanted to use it for. He'd been curious about one aspect of his body ever since that first filling bath in his former apartment, many days prior. It appeared he was quite stretchy, and he felt further testing was in order. For Science, of course.

After fiddling with the controls and making sure he could operate the tank, he carefully slid a thick rubber hose into his tail vent, and checked the connection on the other end. He felt naughty as can be just stuffing the mass of rubber in his rear end, and soon wound up quite excited as a result. With his elongating dragon sausage distending out of his cloaca folds, the pudgy purple dragon cranked the tank open slowly, and let the gas flood his insides.

There was a slight chilling sensation at first, then a gradual warming. Greg moaned with pleasure and probed his belly with his tail, rumbling with delight as he felt it slowly expanding outwards. There was no pain, only a sense of growing pressure as he filled up. Bit by bit his belly distended, followed by his torso, and even his hips. He could feel the gas worming its way around his insides, somehow causing his tail to widen and stretch out as well. He didn't argue the matter, so deep was his enjoyment of the situation.

As he ballooned, his member did as well, stretching out and bumping into his growing belly. The sensation was almost more than he could take, and he began leaking his potent dragon seed all over himself. He felt his limbs starting to thicken up as well, plus his neck base, as the gas continued to rush in. Not ready to stop quite yet however, the puffy fellow turned up the gas flow just a bit more, and practically roared out his joy in response. The long pudgy dragon was starting to look like a squashed collection of spheres by this point, growing larger by the moment.

As would be expected by any large object filled with lighter than air gas, Greg started to wobble and bob off his paws. His belly bottomed out on the deck plating below, raising him further off his paws, forcing him to rear up somewhat to maintain balance. Soon he lifted up off his feet entirely, and wound up bobbing around in mid air.

He continued to balloon, unable now to reach down and turn off the flow. He was so filled with mirth by the situation at hand however, that he didn't much care. Greg blimped up bigger and bigger, until he started to take up a fair chunk of the free space in the cargo bay. He was easily bigger around than he was normally long, still stretching, and floating until he bumped into the ceiling.

There was only so much gas in the tank however, and soon the hissing stopped. Greg was left dripping and floating up on the ceiling, belly down towards the decking below. He stayed that way for hours, all through the night and into the early hours of the next morning. Eventually hunger became a more pressing need than his continued enjoyment of the situation, and he began pondering how to get down.

The hose had long since slid out of his rear end, leaving a bit of a sticky mess below and a drained helium tank. Flapping his wings only made him bob around the cargo bay more, and lashing his pontoon of a tail around didn't seem to do much at all. After many minutes of struggling against his own bloat, a loud gurgle echoed through his body, and out into the bay. Blinking with a look of confusion on his face, Greg suddenly broke wind. The resulting blast of gas sent him spinning around the bay like a deflating balloon, which was a rather apt comparison. He wound up laying in a somewhat crumpled heap down below, dizzy and smirking at himself at the crude display.

He was shocked back to reality moments after however, as alarms started sounding all over the ship. Sensors had detected a rapid increase of Helium in the ship's atmosphere, and teams were being scrambled to stem the leak before the oxygen balance was disrupted. Any gas leak was treated seriously aboard ship, it had to be. Greg could hear loud-speakers directing people to the cargo bay, and scrambled back up to his hiding place. No sooner than he slammed and locked the doors to his container, than men flooded into the cargo bay. They found the empty helium tank and noticed that the valves were open, and also soon discovered where it had came from.

Nobody mentioned the sticky mess that Greg had left everywhere, which was likely a good thing. Some bright young lad put two and two together, and determined that the door to the container must have not been sealed right, and the tank had fallen out. How this had happened was a mystery, but it was the only likely reason for the tank to be laying on the ground, empty. The dock-workers back on Earth received a memo reminding them about proper cargo handling procedure, some days later.

The crew aboard ship however made sure no other leaks were present, then let the ships system fix the air quality. A little helium in the air wasn't going to bother anyone, so long as the oxygen was increased. Greg was left with a squeaky voice in the cargo bay for several hours, but that was all. He considered himself lucky to have escaped detection. He made a mental note to not use Helium next time he tried such antics. Perhaps there was an air pump he could play with? The idea sent his tail twitching.

The remaining days passed by quickly enough, with a minimum of reported incidents. Nobody suspected there was a slightly nutty dragon on board, and instead felt there were too many people with nothing better to do than causing problems. The ship landed at the main Martian spaceport right on schedule, and Greg snuck out once the coast was clear. He took a moment to look around, and take in the sights. He'd done it. Greg was on Mars, and hopefully safe. For now.

The primary colony site, commonly known as Mars City, was doing quite well for itself. New pictures of the various developments on the Red Planet didn't come through quite as often as they used to, decades prior. Mars was old news these days. Everyone was moving out to the moons around the distant gas giants, or plotting to move out of the solar system entirely. Still, Mars was far from some back-water outpost, like it may have been at the start.

The city had over 100,000 people living in it now, with great pressure domes rising high into the air to help contain all the atmosphere humanity typically enjoyed. There were huge tower farm buildings constructed outside the pressure domes, with their own sealed and largely automatic systems endlessly churning out fresh produce for consumption. Factories and mines were located just outside the city area, accessible via pressure tube.

Rapid advances in technological development had enabled the initial Terraforming project to accelerate faster than anyone thought possible. There were huge factories located near the poles, melting water and spewing various greenhouse gasses into the atmosphere, to build it up. Already you could walk around on the surface without a pressure suit. The old domed cities would become a thing of the past in a few more years. Still, most found it more comfortable to remain inside the domes. While you didn't need a suit, the pressure was still somewhat less, and there was the oxygen content to worry about.

Genetically engineered plant life was growing anywhere that had warmed up enough to permit liquid water to stay around on ground level, which was mostly around the equator. Still, a worker needed to carry an air supply with him to breathe normally, or a more cumbersome air recycling system. It was common to see people walking around with warm clothes, an air mask, and a backpack full of air tanks.

At the current rate of advancement, people expected to be able to walk around without an air mask in another decade or two. Smaller developments had sprung up here and there around the equator, taking advantage of local water supplies and resources to build up booming economies. Most of these smaller places lacked the huge tower farms of the main city, and instead had neat little rows of pressure sealed hydroponic greenhouses. They were always quite the sight to see. Green and glass poking out of the red desert.

Greg wandered into a loading bay from the sealed compartments of the transport ship, and watched as various containers and people were off-loaded from the big craft. He'd almost miss his comfortable nest inside the container. Looking around, he began to wonder what he should do with himself, now that he was on another planet. He didn't really have a plan, past escaping detection. Climbing up onto a pile of shipping containers, he flopped down and decided to have a rest. This all needed some thought.

While he lazed and pondered, the crew and passengers of the huge ship were extracted via pressure tube. Any cargo that needed to remain under Earth-Normal pressures was put into another huge storage bay, and sealed up tight. Alarms started to sound overhead, causing Greg to raise his horned head in alarm. Lights were flashing along one wall, and various workers hurried to the safety of pressure sealed crew offices. Before the dragon could do much of anything, a crack appeared in what looked like a wall, and a strong wind picked up. All the air was being sucked out of the facility, blown outside to join the growing mass of Martian atmosphere.

Greg thought he was doomed, but soon blinked and noticed that he felt no discomfort. The dropping Oxygen levels didn't seem to bother him it all either. He just automatically began taking deeper breaths to compensate. Evidently dragons were meant for this sort of thing.

As the rush of escaping pressure dropped off, the crack in the wall widened, as the entire thing flopped outwards. It turned out to be a giant door, which became a huge ramp to the rusty soil outside. There were roads of a sort built on the surface, mostly of packed rock and gravel. Huge loading vehicles drove up and into the bay, and started picking up stacks of containers. Apparently they were taking them somewhere outside of the city. Likely the various construction zones that dotted the Martian surface.

Greg stood up and stretched out his wings as he looked at the huge open sky, which was starting to take on the faintest tinge of blue, thanks to the building gas levels in the atmosphere. Ah, the wonders of Rayleigh Scattering. He hadn't really done much in the way of flying, but he was eager to try soaring around. After all, that was one of the things that dragons did. It was only proper to continue the practice.

Flapping his huge pontoon like wings, he took a few steps and launched himself towards the huge yawning doorway outside. As a first trial run, it wasn't a complete failure. Greg soared through the air for a few feet, then began to rapidly drop towards the ground below. Grumbling, he flapped his wings with what strength he could find, and just didn't go anywhere. He remembered to put his feet out as the decking approached, and wound up in a bouncing heap on his fat belly. Huffing, he gathered himself up with as much dignity as he could muster, and walked the rest of the way.

Shuffling his wings back into a closed position against his sides, the big purple dragon pondered the failed attempt, and dodged around some cargo loaders. As he stuck to the shoulder, he looked around himself, then mentally slapped his own forehead. Of course he couldn't fly worth a damn here! The air pressure was too low. There was no way he'd generate enough lift to get his fat ass off the ground, even in the reduced gravity.

He at least enjoyed how light he felt on his feet. Soon his slow walk became a jog, then a scamper, then an outright bouncing gallop. The purple dragon bounced all over the place, clearing huge distances in a single leap. On a whim, he hopped up against the rising wall of a pressure dome, and started walking up the thing. It was a bit chilly as he ambled ever higher into the air, but it wasn't anything his pudgy body couldn't handle. About halfway up he started to have some difficulty with continued movement, as his legs kept bashing up against something.

Tilting his long neck around to inspect the situation, he noticed that he was positively bloated. Blinking, he wondered just what was going on. It felt like he was puffing up with gas again, which wasn't the case. He lazed against his own bloat for a while, squeaking against the thick transparent dome. It was likely that the reduced air pressure was making his stretchy hide puff up somehow. There must be a lot of residual gas in his hide, from one source or another. He didn't mind that much. His belly was wide and round enough that it touched the ground as he walked, making a near constant squeaking sound as it dragged against the glassy dome surface. He had to take slower and wider steps, but he was still mobile.

Provided of course, he didn't swell up more. Greg resolved not to eat any beans for the remainder of his stay.

He spent most of the afternoon wandering around the outside of the major city, climbing one dome after another, and bouncing around on his huge rounded belly. As the sun began to set however, he decided that he really needed shelter. It was a simple matter to roll and slide back down the dome and find a large enough airlock to sneak into the city. After all, who expected a big bloated dragon to come for a visit? Soon enough, he was inside the domed Mars City, and began sniffing around for his next meal...

To be continued in part 4...