Here Be Dragons: Book 1 of the Emergence Series

“Now, let’s get started,” Pryce invited, pen at the ready to record whatever information about the species Fathom was about to tell him about.

“You know the raptors, I explain them more first,” Fathom started.

“Makes sense.”

“Raptors are…very bad animals. Dragons all very opposite of like them,” he began.

“Opposite of like is ‘hate’,” Pryce said, scribbling away.

“Dragons all hate raptors, raptors try to take eggs,” he spat vehemently, as if the mere thought of the creatures disgusted him.

“Dragons…do not eat other animal eggs?” Pryce asked, skeptical.

“Yes, but different,” Fathom dismissed with a shrug of a wing. “Dragons fight, then eat animals, then eat eggs. Raptors only eat eggs, no fight.”

“Does the word ‘raptor’ in dragon language have meaning?” Pryce asked, curious.

“Means thing that takes things,” Fathom said, shifting his wings, “it is also bad thing to say dragon is like raptor.”

“Bad thing to say is an ‘insult’, like stupid or crazy,” Pryce said. “And person who takes things from other people is a ‘thief’.” He stopped to consider the unlikely coincidence. “It is strange, human word and dragon word for ‘raptor’ have same meaning.”

“Very strange,” Fathom agreed, then seemed to realize something before asking, “Human Mainland have raptors?”

“No, I gave them that name,” Pryce said.

“Why you name them thief? You did not see them take things.”

“Humans find old bones of animals that lived millions of years ago. Bones that are very old sometimes become rock; these bones are called ‘fossils’. One creature looks like raptor but only has two legs and two arms, so I named them that.”

“Bones…become rock…” Fathom said slowly, sounding like he recognized the description. “Dragons know rocks that look like bones, but do not know where they come from.”

“Very rare, only happen when animal dies in the right place, and bones take around ten thousand years to become fossils,” Pryce said, noticing Fathom seemed particularly interested in this.

“Ten thousand years,” Fathom breathed in awe. “How do you know this?”

“That is…very complicated,” Pryce said, quite tired of having to say that.

“More complicated than rockets?” The dragon asked, equal parts wary and doubtful.

“Different,” Pryce said, rolling his hand in an uncertain gesture. “I can show you photos of fossils if you want.”

“Yes, I want,” Fathom said, bobbing his head eagerly.

Pryce found a book on paleontology; he recalled one of the geologists had some experience in that field. Paleontology wasn’t a priority, but it didn’t cost much to bring a book in the event that some interesting fossils were found.

Pryce decided to show Fathom some ammonites since they were among the most common fossils, and as such were most likely to be familiar to the dragon.

“…I know this,” he said quietly, gratifying but also confusing Pryce with his low tone.

“This fossil is from an animal called an ‘ammonite’, do you have any ammonite fossils?” Pryce asked, curious if the dragon had any personal connection to these.

“Yes, I have one that is have many colors, is very beautiful…ammonite fossil was gift,” he explained somberly.

“An opalescent ammonite? Those are very rare, very beautiful,” Pryce said, then realized what word Fathom had used. “You said it was a gift? You said dragons only give two things, one to their mate and one to hatchling, right?”

“Yes, my…mate give me ammonite,” Fathom said, his voice and spines both lower than Pryce had ever seen before.

“Do…you want to talk about it?” Pryce asked, wincing a little from his stilted reassurance. At least it wouldn’t be a generic response from Fathom’s perspective.

“I talk about this later, at my home. Things more make sense there,” the dragon said.

“I understand, things make more sense there,” Pryce nodded, though he felt Fathom might be using a delaying tactic. “Your wing is almost healed, when can I go to your home?”

Fathom flexed his wing, looking at the scab that was only about two centimeters long now. “We go three days from now, this is good?”

“Yes, that is good,” Pryce said, excited to see the dragon’s home. He would have to do some preparations himself. He – or rather Fathom could only bring so much, so he’d have to pack light.

“Normal, not iridescent ammonite is rare, but not many dragons want,” Fathom continued, as if he had not mentioned anything personal. “Ammonite has pretty lines, but it is still rock.”

“Makes sense,” Pryce said. “Things many humans want is ‘valuable’, most fossils are very rare and very valuable, but ammonites are not very valuable. Do you have any other fossils?” Pryce asked, a covetous gleam in his eyes.

“I have some, but my fossils are not big,” the dragon said, shrugging a wing. Evidently, they were not a particularly prized part of his collection.

He was tempted to show Fathom photos of other fossils, but reminded himself to return to the task of learning about the wildlife currently on this island. He set the book down onto a crate, intending to ask Fathom about other animals on the island when the dragon flipped it back open with a talon.

“What is this? It look big,”

Pryce looked to see the book had opened to the page featuring a photograph of the fossil of a Brachiosaur – the only known complete specimen in existence. “That is a brachiosaurus, 25 meters in length and 14 meters in height.”

“Brachiosaurus is very big!” Fathom rumbled in surprise, eyes widening a little as his spines flared. “Bigger than all animals here,” he said, adding, “How do humans fight brachiosaurus?”

Pryce snorted in amusement, “We do not fight brachiosaurus, brachiosaurus lived over 100 million years ago, all dead now.” He paused. “All dead on mainland,” he added, thinking that perhaps it was not out of the question for the southern island to have their descendants – assuming they did not evolve a significant amount in the last 100 million years.

“All dead?” Fathom asked, a strange severity in his tone.

“Yes, they live more than 100 million years ago, dead for very long time,” Pryce said. “Type of animal is called ‘species’, humans are a species, and dragons are a species. When every one of species dies, species is extinct.”

Fathom slowly lowered his head, and looked at Pryce from the corner of his eye as he asked, “…Humans make species extinct in past?”

Pryce closed the book. “Yes. Many species, very bad.”

“Dragons make other species extinct too,” Fathom said quietly. “Other species is like dragon, but only two legs, two wings, and strange scales like feathers.”

“…Wyvern,” Pryce said. “Name of extinct species is wyvern.”

“I not see wyverns alive, they die thousands of years ago. Old dragons tell young dragons about Wyverns,” Fathom paused to sit down, and Pryce had the impression this was going to be a lengthy story. “Long time ago, wyverns have south half of island, and dragons have north half. For many years, dragons fight wyverns, but sometimes dragons win, sometimes wyverns win, sometimes dragons die, sometimes wyverns die. Then, one dragon fight other dragons, make one big clan. Big clan go fight wyverns, then all wyverns dead.” Fathom shifted uncomfortably. “Dragons very happy, win much land, much territory. But dragons did not know Wyverns…hunt predators. When wyverns die, predators have no predators. Many prey hunted by dragons and other predators, and when all prey gone, many predators die too.”

Pryce nodded grimly. It was a textbook example of the disruption of an ecosystem resulting in population crashes – and in some cases, extinctions.

“This is why island only have one thousand dragons,” Fathom concluded. “After dragons kill all wyverns, dragons have many eggs, eggs hatch, and many dragons eat many prey. Less dragons eat less prey, island does not die.”

“Understand, humans change things around us, animals no survive,” Pryce said.

“Change things around you?” Fathom asked, uncertain as to what Pryce meant.

“We make things using things around us, we get wood from trees, we use wood to make ships, make tools, make homes,” Pryce explained. “Humans…cut down all of forest sometimes,” he confessed.

“Humans kill all of forest? Kill healthy trees?” Fathom hissed in disgust.

“…Yes, healthy trees strong,” Pryce admitted.

“Dragons no kill forest, use dead or old trees to carve wood!” He spat, raising his head to glare down at Pryce balefully.

Pryce took an involuntary step back, but ultimately held his ground. “If dragons could make shiny things from trees, would they kill healthy trees?” Pryce was able to keep his voice steady with a great effort, though he would be lying to say that he wasn’t a little terrified. He was quite certain that Fathom wouldn’t hurt him, but if the human way of life was a cultural taboo...

The dragon opened his mouth to object, but fell silent as he contemplated the question, and slowly rumbled a reluctant affirmative.

“Tell me about other species on this island,” Pryce said in a reconciliatory tone, hoping to move onto other topics.

“…okay, I will tell you about lizards.” Fathom said, wings and spines settling down to their original positions...they seemed a bit lower, actually and Pryce then noticed that the dragon seemed almost ashamed, though he didn’t think now was a good time to ask why.

“This island have lizards too?” Pryce asked. He wasn’t sure if that was surprising or not, it seemed like a fairly simple shape, just a length of body with limbs on the side.

“Yes, but this lizards are big lizards, two or three meters long, and have six legs. Blue lizards live on mountains, red lizards live in places with much sand.”

“Places with much sand? Like beach?” Pryce said, darting an anxious glance beneath him.

“Places with much sand not near ocean,” Fathom amended, sounding a little amused by Pryce’s reaction.

“Oh, that is called a ‘desert’,” Pryce said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Red lizards live on deserts.”

“Ok, what is important about red and blue lizards?” Pryce asked, guessing that they would have to be significant if they were the second creature to mention.

“Important?”

“Oh, Important is like…valuable thing, or thing you like very much, or thing that changes many things,” Pryce said, hoping that wasn’t a bad explanation.

“I think I understand,” Fathom said, bobbing his head.

“Good, now what is important about lizards?”

“Some things that dragons eat make dragons become different color,” Fathom said. “Red and blue lizards are hard to find, it is good for a dragon to be very red or very blue,” Fathom said, posturing a little with his deep blue scales.

“Is dark blue or light blue better? What color is dragon who doesn’t eat red or blue lizards?” Pryce asked, fascinated by this strange effect.

“I more blue than most dragons,” Fathom said, puffing himself up a little as he said so. “Dragon hatchling is dark white. If a hatchling eat more blue lizard, hatchling become more blue. Adult change color too, but slower.”

“Your colors look very good,” Pryce complimented, causing the dragon to preen. He did not have to force the sentiment at all, though he’d imagine a grey dragon would be nearly as impressive. “And dark white is grey, like my shirt.” The shirt in question was originally white, but he’d worn it so often that the sand, dust, and grime had turned it grey. “So, dragons can be grey, blue, or red? Can they be purple?”

“Very small number of dragons is purple, less than ten,” Fathom said.

“To be purple you need to eat red and blue lizards, right?”

“Yes,” Fathom rumbled in confirmation.

“What other colors can dragons be?” Pryce asked, scribbling this fascinating information down.

“Dragon can be orange if they eat much some types of fishes, and some can be green if they eat much some types of plants, but not many dragons like orange, and no dragon like green; it is easy to catch fish or eat plants. Some prey make dragon yellow, but they are small and hard to hunt.”

Pryce scribbled down these interesting bits of information into his notes. In short, a dragon’s colors were dependent on their hunting skills, or at least were dependent on what kind of prey their territory had. “Is it hard to hunt red or blue lizards?”

“Yes, blue lizards live in mountains, use six legs to run fast into holes. Red lizards have four arms near head, can move under sand very fast.”

“Move under sand is ‘dig’,” Pryce said, wondering just what these bizarre lizards looked like, then asked, “How did you catch so many blue lizards?”

“I am good hunter,” Fathom said, preening again; though Pryce noticed he did not quite meet his eyes as he made that boast. If he had to guess, the dragon probably had some trick to getting lizards and had a habit of keeping that fact from other dragons.

“What if dragon eat many red lizards, blue lizards, orange fish, yellow things, and plants? Would dragon be black?”

“I do not know, no dragon do that before,” Fathom said, rumbling with amusement. “You ask questions like a hatchling.”

“You ask questions like a child too,” Pryce shot back.

“You are small like hatchling, and you have strange color,” Fathom returned, causing Pryce to laugh at the ridiculousness of these half-insults. He supposed the olive skin that all humans had would be a strange one, and not particularly appealing by draconic standards either.

“Is my skin a good color?” Pryce asked, curious to see what the dragon would think.

“No, you look like sand,” Fathom said blithely, looking confused when Pryce stifled a laugh at his blunt honesty.

“But your hair is not bad,” the dragon added, perhaps thinking he had insulted Pryce. “Black and white is interesting colors.”

Pryce chuckled, saying, “Human hair mostly black or brown, very few humans have gold or red colored hair. All human hairs turn white when they become old, and my hair was all black ten years ago. Some people think it is an insult to say someone’s hair is white.”

“Why is this insult? White hair is white hair, this is true,” Fathom said, flicking his spines in confusion.

“That is true, yes,” Pryce admitted. “Most people respect old people, but it is bad to remind them they are old. Old people do not live long,” he explained.

“Do old people forget they are old?” Fathom asked dubiously.

“No, but it’s still rude to remind them.”

“Humans strange,” Fathom rumbled, “For dragons, it is opposite of insult to say they are old, old dragons see much, do much, and usually have much,” he finished with an envious note.

“Opposite of insult is compliment, and that makes sense, but humans do not live long, remember?”

“I do not remember. You did not tell me.”

Pryce blinked, realizing it was true. “Sorry, I thought I told you. Humans live on average close to 80 years, oldest human around 110 or 120 years old.”

Fathom jerked his head back in surprise and stared at Pryce. “But you are fifty, you only live 30 years from now?”

“Around there,” Pryce shrugged, a little touched by the concern in the dragon’s voice.

The dragon seemed quite shocked by this news, and looked at Pryce with what he could only describe as pity. “Tell me more about other animals,” Pryce said, feeling uncomfortable, “you mention something about a land-octopus before, yes?”

“Yes, I tell you because land-octopus eat small animals like you,” Fathom said with something approaching his normal tone.

“Thanks, what else do you know about them?”

“Hmm…” Fathom hummed in thought as he thought of what to say. Pryce noted the sound was a bit more similar to his own thoughtful humming; perhaps the dragon was picking up on his mannerisms? “I do not know much about land-octopus. They live in trees, move from tree to tree, and eat small things.”

“Are they smart?” Pryce asked, then realized how stupid he was for not asking if there existed any other sapient species on this island.

“They no attack dragon, so not very stupid,” Fathom said thoughtfully.

“Do they have language? Do any species other than dragons have language?” Pryce asked urgently.

“Land-octopus do not have language, they do not make sound,” Fathom said, a little taken aback by Pryce’s sudden urgency. “Dragons do not know any species other than dragons that have language.”

“Did…wyverns have language?” Pryce asked, wondering if that was too sensitive a topic.

“Do not know,” Fathom said with a draconic shrug. “No dragon talk to wyvern like I talk to you, if they have language, no dragon learn language.” He tilted his head in thought, then added, “some dragons say wyverns smart, but do not know how smart.”

“Alright, tell me about some smart animals.” Pryce said.

“Hmm…some animals hunt together, probably more smart than animals that hunt alone.”

“Don’t dragons hunt alone?” Pryce asked, unable to resist.

Fathom snorted, brought his jaws close to Pryce and said, “Dragons can hunt together if we want, dragons do not need to hunt together,” in what Pryce judged to be austere tones.

“Okay, okay,” Pryce said placatingly. “Tell me about animals that hunt together.”

“One animal is fastest on the ground, they have four legs, and two wings. They can not fly with wings, but use wings to help run.”

Using wings to propel themselves along the ground? Interesting. “What animals does this animal look like?”

“Animal look like your animals with four legs, but has bird wings, like where dragon has wings,” Fathom said, stirring his wings a little. “Also has beak, like a bird,” he added.

Sounds like a Gryphon? Or at least something resembling one. Pryce doubted the forelegs would have a bird’s talons while the hindlegs had paws, that sort of thing just didn’t happen in nature. It probably had paws, or at least something similar in structure.

“Name for this animal is ‘Gryphon’. What do their feet look like?” Pryce asked, curious to know how the fastest thing on land ran.

“What is meaning of ‘Gryphon’?” Fathom asked, tilting his head.

“Gryphon is creature that don’t exist, like mermaid, but it sounds like what you are saying,” Pryce explained.

“How many creatures that don’t exist do humans have?” Fathom questioned, sounding somewhere between exasperated and confused.

“Many,” Pryce said. “Dragons were one of them.”

Fathom widened his eyes a little at this. “Humans think dragons are creatures that don’t exist, but know what dragons look like…?” Fathom asked, very confused.

“Yes, very strange, but word for creatures that don’t exist is ‘mythical creatures’. Good question is why do humans have mythical creatures that look like creatures here?” Pryce asked, half-thinking aloud.

“Humans no see dragons and gryphons with camera-satellite?”

“No, satellites are very far away, they can’t see any animals, and mythical creatures are very old, hundreds or thousands of years old.” He shook his head. “I will need to see Gryphon to know, maybe Gryphon is different than how I think. Right now dragon is the only mythical creature that I know exists. Even if gryphons look like ‘gryphons’, it is probably coincidence.”

“Coincidence?” Fathom echoed the new word.

“Pattern is thing that happens again and again, like sunrise and sunset. Coincidence is thing that looks like pattern but isn’t,” Pryce explained, then asked. “What do gryphon feet look like?”

Fathom rumbled uncertainly before answering, “Gryphon feet not like any animal feet you show me. Looks like bird talons, but shape is different.”

“Different how?” Pryce pressed. Fathom wasn’t able to provide a better explanation and was only able to shrug helplessly. He felt a little disappointed; he was curious to see how the fastest land-based creature ran, and resolved to see a gryphon one day. The ‘how’ would be difficult, given how dangerous everything seemed to be, but maybe they could work something out in the future. “Thank you for telling me about Gryphons. It is not your fault; we do not have the right words. Tell me about other animals."

Fathom bobbed his head and answered, “Other animal that hunts together is animal that looks like tiger, but is white with black stripes. They have six legs, run strange, but run fast.”

“This animal is ‘White Tiger’.”

“…this name is bad.”

“What? You said they look like tigers!” Pryce protested defensively.

“This name is color and animal that exists!”

“Lots of animals are named like that!”

“…humans are bad at naming,” Fathom said, then his eyes widened in dawning apprehension before asking, “What is my name meaning?”

“Um, your name has a few meanings. Fathom means to measure ocean depth, so fathom can mean ‘understand’ ocean depths, or just mean ‘understand’, and you look like ocean sometimes.”

Fathom lulled this over for a few moments until he bobbed his head, evidently having found this acceptable. Then he froze, turned to Pryce and asked, “What does dragon mean?”

“Uh…’dragon’ is an old word. I’m not sure what it means,” Pryce said; not entirely a lie. He was fairly certain it meant ‘serpent’, but he didn’t want to tell Fathom that either.

Fathom grumbled suspiciously at Pryce, who turned to glance at a bird who had just conveniently let out a warbling cry. A second later, the bird flapped off in a flurry – though Pryce saw two distinct pairs of wings.

“What is the biggest bird you know of?” Pryce asked.

“Biggest bird looks like that, but much bigger,” Fathom said, still eyeing him with a suspicious gaze. “Biggest bird is maybe 5 meters long, maybe 8 meters wide.”

“This…bird is called ‘Roc’,” Pryce said, amazed by the sheer size of the creature. Of course, dragons were bigger, but this bird still dwarfed any humans.

“…why do you name flying bird rock?” Fathom asked, flattening his spines in distaste.

“It’s written differently than this rock,” Pryce weakly justified, holding up an unremarkable grey rock as he said so.

“Use different name,” Fathom said.

“What? Why?”

“I am not using same word for bird and rock,” the dragon said stubbornly.

Pryce threw up his hands in surrender. “Fine, what color is this bird?”

“Bird is red.” Fathom narrowed his eyes in suspicion, “You are not naming this red bird, yes?”

“No, of course not. I’ll name this bird Vermillion bird.”

“Does Vermillion mean red?”

“...Yes.”

“Use different name.”

Pryce threw up his hands, “What’s the meaning of the dragon name for this bird?”

Fathom paused, then scratched a spot on his neck with a wing-thumb, “…very big red bird.”

“I’m calling it vermillion bird,” Pryce said with an air of finality.

“This name sound better in dragon language,” Fathom grumbled. “You probably not need this name, vermillion bird fly very high up.”

“How high?” Pryce asked.

“I do not know, vermillion birds fly higher than dragon,” Fathom rumbled, sounding just a touch envious.

“Why do vermillion birds fly so high?” Pryce asked, “No food very high up, what does this bird want?”

“I do not know, but some dragons see them eat…other animal that is high up,” Fathom said, pausing as if unsure how to describe this creature. “This other animal look like whale, but different.”

Pryce stopped scribbling to look up. “A whale-like animal. In the sky.”

“Yes.”

“How have I not seen one?” Pryce wanted to demand, though it came out more as a sigh. By this point he had learned to simply accept whatever strange creatures the dragon described.

“They very high up, like vermillion bird,” the dragon said, as if this were obvious.

“Right, so vermillion birds hunt these…sky-whales,” Pryce said, thinking out-loud. “How do sky whales float? And how do you know they exist if they so high up?”

“Sometimes sky whale die, float down,” Fathom said simply. “Sky whales have same air inside like dragon, can explode if dragon try to burn it.”

“Oh right, I forgot to tell you, the gas you burn for your fire is probably hydrogen,” Pryce said. “Hydrogen is very light, floats on air. Sky whale probably have very much hydrogen, help float,” he concluded, pacing in excitement as all the pieces fit together nicely.

“Dragon fire gas is hydrogen?” Fathom asked bemusedly, then asked in a strange tone, “You said humans can not make dragon fire, but you said humans use hydrogen for zeppelin?”

“Not with our bodies, we make hydrogen with machines,” Pryce said distractedly; his mind was focused on wondering what these sky whales looked like. “How long and wide are sky whales?”

“Hmm…” Fathom hummed; the dragon seemed to still be caught up on humans being able to make the gas they used to breathe fire.

Pryce repeated his question, and Fathom seemed to snap out of whatever he was contemplating. “Sky whale maybe 10 or 12 meters long, but maybe 14-16 meters wide, I only see two before,” The dragon recounted.

“Right, because you only see them when they die and fall down,” Pryce said, and Fathom nodded in response.

“Yes,” Fathom said, nodding his head.

“What do sky whales eat?” Pryce was at a loss at how such a massive creature could sustain itself high up in the sky.

“Sky whales maybe eat those things,” Fathom said, pointing at the first of the spore-pods that were floating off into the sky.

“Sky whales eat spore pods!” Pryce said in realization, they had to be eating spore pods, or at least something similar. He wondered if they were almost like filter feeders that almost passively caught the pods.

“Yes, maybe, but I do not see any,” Fathom said, sounding almost embarrassed that spore pods floated higher than he could fly.

“How high can dragons fly?” Pryce asked.

“More than one kilometers, maybe two or three kilometers up?” The dragon guessed, yawning as he looked up at the spore pods ascending into the sky.

“It’s getting late,” Pryce said, yawning in response while he finished jotting down his notes. “We will talk about more animals tomorrow.”

“Yes, goodnight,” Fathom said, rustling his wings and looking unusually eager to leave. Pryce wondered if he should ask what he was leaving to do, but the dragon leapt off into the skies before he could voice his question.

Pryce scratched his head as he watched the dragon wing off into the distance.

[JOURNAL ENTRY]

Day 37,

This island’s biosphere is truly more fascinating than I could have ever imagined, to think there exists an ecosystem in the sky!

And dragons being conscious of their impact on the environment was quite unexpected, I’d imagine this island is capable of supporting far more than a thousand dragons, but maybe they don’t want to risk it, or it’s just a part of their tradition at this point.

Another curious thing is that Fathom described Gryphons to sound rather similar to the mythological creatures, though I am personally of the opinion that they only share a passing resemblance. I’m not sure what to think if animals on this island resemble creatures from human mythology, the simplest conclusion is that our ancestors encountered these creatures before, but that doesn’t make any sense. The distance is far too vast, and there’s no reason for creatures to evolve the ability to migrate over such great spans of empty ocean. The theory of continental drift is not without controversy[1], but even if it is true, we do not know how quickly continents drift. Current estimates vary too widely to be of use and are based only on any movement between the mainland and it’s nearby islands.

Humans as a species have existed for approximately two hundred thousand years, or a million at most. That doesn’t seem like enough time for our islands to have separated so far, and if it was recent then we should still have some of the same species on our islands, or at least recent fossils of said species.

None of this makes sense, so until I see a Gryphon, I will chalk up the existence of dragons as mere coincidence.

On another note, it is a shame sky whales and vermillion birds live high up in the sky, it sounds like it would be difficult for me to see any individuals. For the record, I still prefer the name ‘Roc’. Maybe I’ll get to give that name to another avian species.

I learned much today, but something that bothers me is that I still have no idea how I can weigh Fathom.

Though the ship has plenty of exceptionally strong rope/cable/chains, the hanging scale only goes up to 500 kg, while the ship’s heavy scale only goes up to 1000 kg – it was simply assumed we could weigh heavier things in increments. Even if the hanging scale could weigh something in the thousands of kilograms, I don’t think Fathom would agree to being tied up and dangled like a pinata.

I wouldn’t be able to make a scale large enough to fit Fathom either, yet alone an accurate one.

If only this ship had a sizable lifeboat, then I could ask Fathom to step onto it. By measuring how much the waterline moves up I could measure his weight, as a floating vessel experiences an upwards thrust equal to the weight of the water displaced. In other words, if I make a ship sink by 1 cubic meter, the thing I added onto the boat weighed 1000 kg.

He would take up much less area if he curled upon himself, but I don’t have any kind of boat except the ship, and even if we launched The Horizon, I don’t think Fathom’s weight would cause a noticeable difference in the waterline.

The crates I have are all too small, the largest ones are 1-meter cubes used for storage of various things.

Maybe I can work with that…

Wound progress update: The scab is now only 1.5 centimeters long.