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Dragons of Science - Part 4

"Exciting news today, as the final tests on the latest FTL engine models have been completed. The go-ahead has been given to power up the system on-board the colony ship Galileo, and send it off into deep space the moment all passengers and cargo are aboard..."

The picture on-screen quickly flashed to another report, followed by another, which all seemed to be talking about much the same thing.

"... which will take it to Gliese 581. Again, the prototype engine has been cleared for use, and the colony ship is ready to go! Also in the news tonight, a strange outbreak of mutations has been reported to the media. What began as a local incident has spread around the world, releasing a potential storm of mutated animals into the public. Already a large number of the strange and frequently enlarged versions of common native life have been rounded up for study. A few determined citizens have elected to protect the beasts from harm, either as house pets or guests. We interviewed a resident of the Chicago Archology, whom had a plus sized Raven guest that enjoyed playing checkers..."

Greg coughed to himself, looking somewhat embarrassed. He figured all the plus sized animals were a result of the strange energy emissions, that had turned him into a Dragon. As such, the situation was likely his fault, in one way or another. Still, there wasn't much he could do about it. It appeared one branch of the government was taking care of the situation, sending in special teams to deal with the problem. Whomever they were, they seemed rather adept at their jobs. Every time Greg had heard about an outbreak of mutated wildlife, they were quickly dealt with.

Shrugging, the large dragon made himself more comfortable on his large and fat front, and resumed munching on a few collected piles of produce. The open air farms around the primary domes had been easy enough to raid, and he doubted anyone would notice. After all, they were public gardens, and open to anyone. He may not be an official citizen, but he was here and he was hungry. Reaching up, he flicked the channel once more on the entertainment screen, tail thumping this way and that as more news appeared on screen.

Looking bored at the same stories being repeated over and over again, the big pudgy purple dragon hefted himself up onto his paws once more, and wandered off with the rest of his meal. After being on Mars for a few days, he still hadn't decided what to do with himself. He'd found a disused storage bay to hole up in when he needed to sleep, and spent the rest of his time wandering around, sometimes clinging to the underside of the great pressure domes. His paws were great at gripping things apparently, and even hanging inverted off the polished and transparent surface of the domes was an easy feat.

The ability to walk along walls, up ceilings, and over just about everything certainly came in handy. The hallways and public spaces were very busy during the day, and more than a few times already people had tripped over his tail or run into him outright. There was only so much a person could explain away, when they walk into a giant warm and squishy invisible wall. It was just safer for everyone if Greg kept out of sight, and above foot traffic. He once again took to napping during the day, and being more active at night. Most of the time he planned what to do with himself, as simply hanging around was losing its appeal. He knew he had to do something about this whole invisible dragon business. Things just wouldn't be well again until he could go to work, find someplace to live, and resume being part of society. At least in one manner or another.

He supposed the best bet would be to find a science lab somewhere, and try to run some tests on himself. Mars was mostly a serious colony in development, not a research outpost. So, it wasn't very likely that he'd find all that much here. He decided to do what little research he could in his current state, and find a promising research outpost somewhere else. After all, he'd hitched a ride to Mars, and he could certainly go somewhere else.

That settled, he raided the gardens once more, and bounced over to his makeshift shelter. There was likely a computer or something nearby he could borrow for a while...

* * *

It wasn't long before the strains of altered animals started to really spread, even going so far as to sneak into cargo ships going off world. Like rats in an old sailing ship, critters of all shapes and sizes were migrating to exotic new locations, and finding they liked it there. The moon was invaded by various birds which were too fat to fly, but found waddling along in one sixth G to be perfectly acceptable. Within weeks they were a common sight in the lower levels of underground pressure caves, living off scraps of food, or being fed outright by generous tunnel farmers.

A research base orbiting Venus was surprised to find a shipment of lab rats to be very mutated indeed, each one easily the size of a large house cat. At first a few scientists wanted to just treat them like any other research animal, but the creatures proved too friendly. It is apparently hard to conduct medical tests on a creature that is happily rubbing up against your leg, demanding hugs and producing many happy ratty sounds. The animals were ultimately kept as pets, and the subjects of long and drawn out intelligence tests.

About a week after arriving on Mars, a new cargo ship landed, with holds full of valuable grains and supplies for eager farmers. An alarm was sounded soon after a customary cargo inspection however, arousing the attention of Greg whom was lounging nearby, idly tapping away at a stolen portable computing tablet. He was perched atop some stacked empty cargo containers, off in one corner of the huge cargo bay, and craned his head down to see what the fuss was about.

The inspectors had opened up a shipping container which had been filled to the brim with sacks of grain, only to have plump and round raccoons the size of dogs tumble out in a large pile. The creatures looked positively intoxicated from stuffing themselves to near immobility, obviously having consumed every last scrap of food in the container during their trip across the stars. Another container burst open, flooding the bay with giant sized dragon flies and other huge insects. When a third container opened itself and pony sized Iguana's started pouring out, most of the humans simply turned and ran. A few kept their heads just enough to run into a control bay, and started the airlock cycling system.

Greg blanched somewhat as warning alarms began flashing, and the huge metal doors began to yawn open. These creatures may have been altered in the same way he was, but there was no guarantee they'd take to low air pressure like he did. Searching his mind, he desperately tried to think of some way to save the poor creatures, who were already being sucked towards a growing crack to the outside landscape. As if acting on instinct, the huge dragon took to the air on powerful wings, and began focusing intently on the situation at hand. Purple smoke seemed to gather from his very being and gather into clouds, which shot forwards and enveloped the creatures as they began flying out onto the red Martian landscape. Shocked by what he was doing, he suddenly stopped producing the smoke, and went sailing outside with the rest of the creatures.

The lowered air pressure once again made it impossible to fly properly, and Greg wound up landing on his large and well padded tummy soon after exiting the cargo bay. Gasping somewhat and looking around in a panic, he was surprised to see all the creatures ambling around with some confusion, but apparently unharmed. Whatever he'd done, it had apparently helped them out. Or at least, it didn't hinder the situation.

The various insects found they couldn't fly, so instead they took to walking, and soon were vanishing into the desert scrub. The plus sized Raccoons went after them, likely in search of an easy ground based meal or two. The huge Lizards also took to walking on the dusty surface without any apparently problems, bobbing along easily, and even snapping up some insect stragglers for good measure. Greg paused for a moment and rubbed at the top of his snout, eyes shut as he shook his large head around. If all this was the result of that huge release of energy in to the world, then he was responsible for a foreign species invasion too. Some part of him knew that these creatures would not only survive, but they would likely thrive as well. There were pockets of more habitable land that they would likely take over in short order, and spread from there.

Within a few generations, there would likely be scores of altered animals butting heads with the Humans for rights to live on the rapidly warming red planet. Various high pitched sounds started up in the distance, and Greg looked up to see many small flying machines taking off from the space-port, and zipping all over the place to watch this invasion of altered animals. The big flabby dragon signed to himself, and once again let himself inside the huge pressure domes, via one of many poorly guarded access ports.

People were running all over the place, talking to the authorities, and even making long distance calls back to Earth. The news screens were announcing that there had been an invasion of mutated animals on Mars, as well as other colonies and outposts in the system. Curiously though the storm of altered critters was slowing down on Earth, and even vanishing all together in certain parts of the world. The reporters attributed this to the recent response of special teams sent to deal with the growing problem.

Said special teams were on route to the outposts and colonies now, to determine what if anything needed to be done about all these strange creatures. The last statement caused Greg to pause in his tracks, and several people to run head first into his ample backside. Looking back at many confused faces and probing hands wandering all over his rump, the plus sized dragon elected to leap up and cling to the high ceiling. The various humans down below felt the rush of air, heard the thump of a very heavy dragon hitting the ceiling, but couldn't make sense of it. Most blamed it on those crazy animals, while others just gave into the crazies and ran away screaming.

Greg hunkered down to the ceiling and gathered his tail in close, musing over what the news broadcast had said. Special teams were going around dealing with whatever mess he'd made, and now they were coming here. There was a chance they'd deal with him too, one way or another. He decided that he needed to run again, and soon. They could be here within a day or two, depending on how fast of a ship they took. He walked along the ceiling, over pipes, and between lighting fixtures, and eventually ducked into the storage bay he'd been calling home for a number of days. Exhausted from the days events, he decided a nap was in order. Besides, there wasn't a ship docked anywhere nearby at the moment, so he might as well recharge his batteries. In the morning he would gather some supplies, and make ready to ship himself off somewhere else once more. As he drifted off to sleep, he pondered his odd smokey energy release somewhat earlier. Just what was that?

Whatever it was, it reminded him of the energy he was first exposed to that ultimately turned him into a big pudgy Dragon. It would be worth research, if he could ever get back to a lab. And preferably not as a lab rat, so to speak.

* * *

A gloved hand reached out and delicately tapped a control display, causing one window of information to close, and another to pop up. Said glove was attached to a fully suited individual with an oddly elongated pressure helmet, and many instruments clinging here and there to his suit. Satisfied with the information on display, the fully suited figure walked to several more screens and continued to check on things. Many other such suited individuals were walking around doing much the same, or sitting at stations managing the systems aboard ship.

The special operations vessel "Flying Dutchman" was boosting hard for Mars, and aimed to get there within a few hours. Its exact speed was classified, but it was certainly a hell of a lot faster than any commercial ship on the market. The squad of fully suited individuals made for an imposing sight, what with all the high tech gear, and weaponry slung about their suits.

The Flying Dutchman was technically a frigate, armed with some of the first naval class ship to ship weapons, and tasked with taking care of the special problems that might pop up in the solar system. Some felt that many such ships were going to be needed in the coming years, as more and more privately owned ships flocked all over the solar system. And with the colony ship prepping to head to an extra-solar location, eventually the powers that be would have to send security ships out there too.

But that didn't concern the squad at present. All silent and serious in their black armoured pressure suits, all they cared about was the task at hand. And that task, was to deal with the arrival of altered animals on Mars. They would be there in no time.

Greg meanwhile continued to nap, snoring loud enough that several workers were dispatched to try and track down the cause of a strange vibration which had started in some public hallways above. Residents which lived one deck above Greg's hiding place were noticing dishes rattling on racks, and cups vibrating to boot. Everyone took mars-quakes seriously, even though they were somewhat rare.

Several bright young lads poked their noses into the all but abandoned storage bay where Greg was napping, and lit the place up with flashlights. One passed over the sleeping dragons eyes, waking him up with a blinking shock of alertness. He quickly restrained himself from making any noise, and quickly slid up the wall, and did his best to hunker down on the ceiling. This wasn't the largest of rooms however, so really his trick didn't accomplish much. The workers bumped into his wings and tail a few times, but merely brushed the offending objects away like they were overhead cables. After all, it was gloomy in the room, and they couldn't see much.

Finding nothing to report in the old room, they quickly left and went searching elsewhere. Greg did hear them reporting that the old room should likely be reconditioned for use, as space was valuable. Sighing, the big pudgy dragon flopped down to the ground again, trying not to make too much of a thump. After all, he didn't want the techs to come running back. He decided it was time to leave, and hang out in the cargo bay if need be until a likely ship came along. It might not be the most comfortable place to live in the world, but it was likely his best bet to escape detection. If he was lucky, he'd be able to find an empty container to squeeze into.

Greg draped a few bags across his back, and expertly tied them around his huge belly. Folding his wings over the bags, they not only became hidden from view, but very secure against his wideload frame. He lumbered down corridors, across walls, over ceilings, and eventually plunked down in the middle of one of many public gardens. There he helped himself to a breakfast of fruit and vegetables, plus loaded up his bags with various goodies for later. Looking out across the fields however, something caught his eye.

There was a sleek black ship docked right up against the spaceport, with the usual connections made to the cargo bay. There were also sleek black suited figures walking around in the distance, across the fields and in the public spaces. Greg narrowed his gaze and focused in on them all, noting that they were waving hand scanners of some sort around, and heading off down the public paths. Some were even converging on where he was just sleeping, mere minutes ago. A wave of panic swarmed through his system, causing him to gulp and feel as if a cold sweat had just broken out across his back. In reality he had just crushed a juicy melon with his powerful wings, but he was not aware of that.

A fight or flight instinct kicked in, and before he knew what was going on, he was charging away from the suited figures, and towards the other side of the huge pressure dome. Somehow one of the figures detected him, likely with his scanner, and raised the alarm. Black gloved hands were soon pointing at the charging purple dragon, as he made a B-line for the nearest service tunnel. Several suited individuals managed to beat him to the access port, and tried to get in his way, assuming a slouched tackling stance. They were sent flying like bowling pins as a good ton or two of dragon barrelled right through them, slipping down the tunnel and vanishing from sight.

Greg kept running, knowing that he didn't have much time to try and hide somewhere. He bounced around corners and spun through the tunnels to avoid any foot traffic, knocking off hats and stirring up quite the breeze as he ran. Within moments he was inside one of many small cargo rooms that had an outside hatch, which doubled as an airlock. Panting, he looked around for the controls to start cycling the air out, so he could escape to the Martian surface. Many running booted feet were echoing down the tunnel, and Greg could just see the masks of many suited figures charging his way. They must have spotted him again somehow, as they were all pointing and shouting.

Greg lashed his tail and smacked the control console, which just so happened to set off the emergency release systems. Alarms went off as the interior door slammed shut mere inches from a suited soldier, and the exterior hatch blew off its hinges with a detonation of explosive bolts. Higher pressure air vented rapidly through the open hatchway, and Greg leapt through, spinning his body slightly to fire out like a bullet. Thanks to the reduced gravity, his projectile trajectory carried him further than it would have on Earth, and soon he was landing on all fours several hundred feet away. Without breaking stride, the big dragon continued to run like a champ, foaming at the corners of his snout slightly from the excursion.

As the Dragon ran away, the suited individuals came to a stop at the now sealed interior door, panting themselves from running so hard. One young private slammed his fist against the metal door and yelled with frustration, kicking the bulkhead a few times for good measure.

"Why the hell did you run, you big idiot? Don't you realize were here to help you?!?"

Another suited figure cuffed the private across the back of his helmet, to quiet him down. They were under strict orders to keep the volume down, and not reveal to the common citizen that they were here hunting a Dragon. After all, it looked like they were running after nothing to everyone else.

Sighing, the team trudged back up the ramps and corridors of the tunnel, to meet back up with the rest of their team. They would be staying for a few days while their ship went off to try and photograph the apparent herds of modified creatures which were now making a new home for themselves out in the deserts of Mars. No doubt they had other creatures to root out within the big domed complex itself.

Greg meanwhile continued to run like crazy over the red dusty ground, jumping clear over some industrial vehicles which were running cargo and freshly mined resources. He saw that the ship at the spaceport appeared to be getting ready to take off, as some of the supply transfer tubes were being detached. He didn't have long to get there, so he really turned up the heat, and began stampeding along.

The huge yawning doors of the cargo bay were still open to the elements, and a few pressure suited workers were busy chasing some stray plus sized creatures out with brooms. Some of them were so round that they could practically be rolled down the ramp onto the red soil. All of the workers and creatures were briefly spooked as some hugely powerful force zipped right over their heads, but none of them seemed to notice what exactly it was. Greg meanwhile bounced off some stacked crates and a few bulkheads, running along the wall to zip through a cargo hatch on the ship before it closed.

He came to a somewhat painful stop as he bounced off the interior of cargo bay walls, only to land against the closing hatches which lead outside once more. Panting and scrabbling at the deck plates to stand up again, he ultimately elected to just lay there and get his heart rate back down to normal levels. He'd never burned energy like that before, that much was certain. He felt the ships engines whirr to life, and a little smile crept along his muzzle. It appeared like he made it once more, escaping detection. Though that was where his plan ended, as he had no idea who this ship belonged to, or where it was going.

As if to echo his thoughts, a lone suited figure emerged from a shadowed hatchway, clapping slowly as he advanced.

"Bravo. I must say, you put on quite the chase for my crew. I don't think they've had to push themselves like that for years, if ever. Why were you running, exactly? Surely you must know why we're here. You know creatures such as yourself aren't allowed to just freely mingle with the Humans. You're just lucky they can't see you, or else you'd really be in trouble..."

Greg was at first surprised, and then confused. What was this person talking about? And he could see him! For a moment, all he could feel was relief, because he could interact with another being again.

"I'm sorry, whomever you are, but I have no idea what you're talking about. I was a human myself up until a month or more ago, though to be honest I've lost all track of time. It seems like that was another lifetime ago now... And how can you see me? I thought I was invisible. I've been alone all this time, just trying to stay alive."

The suited figure raised a hand as if to speak, then paused. Fetching out one of those strange hand scanners Greg had seen the others carrying, he waved it around, and checked the readings. Slowly, he started to chuckle, then reached up to unclasp his pressure helmet.

"Ah, I see now. You have the same energy signature as the huge release which was detected back on Earth. You must be the missing scientist. Well, are you ever in for a shock."

The figure reached up and tugged the helmet off his head, and pulled it away, clipping it to a catch on his belt for safe keeping. Yawning his muzzle wide, the furry figure scrubbed at a thick mat of hair, and tossed his head for good measure. Two large ears sprung up to attention, and two large amber eyes focused on the dragon sprawled out on the deck. The creature appeared to be a bipedal wolf, with strong features and quite the thick coat of fur. It was a wonder how he got it all in such a skin tight suit.

Smiling, the fuzzy creature sat down on a cargo box, and looked the dragon over.

"I suppose you've never seen a wolf man before. No human has, in a very long time. We used to live with you, back in the day, but that is another story entirely. I bet when you saw me the first word that came to mind was Werewolf."

Greg nodded his large head, admitting that it was.

"Well there's good reason for that! And all will be explained in time. For now, we've got to get you out of here, and into your new home. Our kind can't live in the Human worlds, especially seeing as they're spreading out to the stars."

Greg blinked, and looked around, wondering if the wolfish creature meant to eject him out into space, or something. The wolf followed his gaze to the airlock door, and laughed.

"No, no, I'm not going to blow you into space, you silly dragon. We're here to help, after all. Come, I'll take you to your new home."

The big purple dragon was about to ask what exactly was going on, when the wolf stuck out his still gloved hands, and began spinning them around in the air. A very familiar stream of purple smoke seemed to gather out of the air itself, collecting and building around the fellows hands as he worked. All at once he thrust his hands forwards, and the cloud of smoke enveloped them both.

Built in climate control systems on the ship detected the odd buildup of gas, and switched on various fans to clear the air. As the cargo bay once again became visible to anyone who cared to look, Greg and the wolf both were no-longer there.

* * *

Greg awoke to find himself laying in a grassy field, with a large fuzzy wolf man leaning up against him, scratching himself. Lifting his large reptilian head, he turned to observe the fuzzy creature, and smiled.

"What, don't tell me you have fleas?"

The wolf scoffed, and playfully cuffed the huge dragon on the belly, which practically bounced like rubber.

"No, you idiot, I don't have fleas. I'm just itchy from being cooped up in that damned suit for days. You just can't scratch where it itches in one of those things. Well, for better or for worse, welcome to your new home. It might take some getting used to, but you seem smart enough. I'm sure you'll get used to things in no time flat."

The wolf gestured with a big fuzzy clawed paw, and indicated the rolling fields of grass. There were huge trees in the distance, and what looked like buildings further along. Greg slowly spun in a circle, and took stock of the place. It was like he was back on Earth, but Earth had never looked this vibrant. There was not a trace of pollution in the air, there were no towering mega structures, and there didn't seem to be any road or air traffic. It was as if he'd been transported back in time, by a score of centuries at the least.

His fuzzy companion tapped Greg's flank to get his attention, and directed his gaze to a small metal and stone tower far in the distance.

"That's where you need to go. All your questions will be answered there, and you'll be taken care of. Be seeing you!"

The wolf gathered up his suit, and began walking in the other direction. Greg called out for him to wait, and bounced over to block his path with a single bound.

"Wait! Just what the hell is going on here? Who are you? Where are you going? What's going to happen to ME?"

The wolf sighed and turned around, and briefly decided to answer a few questions.

"Like I told you, head to that building in the distance. You'll be taken care of, and your questions will be answered. This is a different world, one for creatures such as ourselves. We were created by that energy you discovered, and have been since before recorded history. Or at least, any recorded history you know about. That energy is plain old everyday Magic, and Humans used to wield it just as we do. For whatever reason, you forgot about it, and turned to more and more advanced technology instead."

The wolf once again scratched at his furry hide, while still chatting away.

"So we retreated to this world, and continued our lives. Countless centuries ago, we created laws that prevented magical creatures from living amongst the Humans, both for their protection and ours. So this is your new home, and you have to stay here. Oh, and my name is Leopold."

With that, he turned once again to leave, and soon was whipping up a storm of energy to transport himself back to his ship.

Greg thought it was prudent to ask once last question while he could.

"Hey! What is that building anyways?"

Just as the wolf vanished, he smiled and called out a single word back over his shoulder.

"Immigration!"

With that, he was gone in a puff of purple smoke. Greg blinked to himself and looked at the distant building. Immigration, great. The more things change, the more they stay the same, apparently. Slowly the big dragon began trundling along, heading towards the distant building, and his new life...

To be concluded in part 5...