Here Be Dragons: Book 1 of the Emergence Series

Fathom laid in bed that morning complaining about various aches in his body, having overexerted himself yesterday to satiate his appetite.

“Next time, don’t push yourself so hard,” Pryce shrugged, doubting Fathom had done any significant damage to his body. He was currently examining the petri dishes. Some growths were appearing on the dishes, but they were currently too small to be easily identifiable. By tomorrow they would be developed enough for Pryce to identify the Peoria strain of Penicillium chrysogenum[1] – if it was present.

Fathom stopped his grousing to perk his head up, tilting it with a serious expression.

“What’s wrong?” Pryce asked sharply, reaching for the rifle he always kept nearby. White tigers? Or another dragon?

“Something is…bad,” Fathom said, slow and serious. “Go outside,” he ordered, pushing himself up with a grunt. Pryce couldn’t think of any threat that would need them to leave the safety of the caves, but he obeyed the command to quickly step outside.

“Ground will go like this soon,” Fathom said, raising a foreclaw to shake it back and forth.

“Shake? Earthquake?” Pryce asked in realization, then slapped himself in the face. “I forgot to tell you there was an earthquake the day I left to get medicine!”

“What?” Fathom hissed. “How can you forget this?”

“There were a lot of things to think about!” Pryce said defensively, and before Fathom could voice his rebuttal the ground began to quake, just as he predicted. This earthquake was stronger than the one Pryce experienced on day 50, but still fairly weak. It wasn’t difficult to maintain his footing, and the quake was over in perhaps half a minute. “This is a bit stronger than the earthquake I felt,” Pryce said warily, unsure if the tremors had ended.

“I have felt earthquakes before, but if one happened eight days ago, then that is…very soon,” Fathom said, flattening his spines.

“How many earthquakes are there in one year? Normally, I mean,” Pryce asked, hoping this wasn’t a sign of a severe earthquake in the future.

“Maybe twelve like this one in one year?” Fathom said speculatively.

“Okay, and when was the last earthquake you felt before this one?” Pryce asked.

“Three days before your ship came here,” Fathom answered.

“Okay, that’s not too bad,” Pryce said. “How did you know one was coming?” He asked. Animals were often documented as acting oddly before earthquakes began, Fathom must have detected something with his keen senses.

“I can hear and feel something…it is hard to explain,” Fathom said diffidently. “Things feel strange before earthquake happens.”

“I see…” Pryce said, a little disappointed. Then again, it wasn’t as if animals had supernatural senses, so it was always going to be a mundane explanation. “How often do strong earthquakes happen here?” He asked, hoping it wasn’t something he should be worrying about.

“Strong ones are very rare. The time from one strong earthquake and the next strong earthquake is sometimes more than one hundred years, and it is sometimes less than ten years,” Fathom explained.

“How many years since the last big earthquake?” Pryce asked warily.

“One hundred twenty-five,” Fathom answered with the sort of complacency that one associated with an old danger.

“...Oh,” Pryce said, then glanced up at the towering mountain range in concern. “How often do volcanoes erupt? Erupt is like this,” Pryce explained, making an exploding motion with his hands.

“Volcanoes erupt less often, sometimes it is many hundreds of years between volcano erupts – eruptions,” He amended irritably after Pryce corrected him. “The last volcano eruption was 385 years ago.”

“Well…let’s hope that doesn’t happen soon,” Pryce sighed; weren't there enough things to worry about?

“Hope?” Fathom asked quizzically.

“Hope is when you can’t do anything, but you want something to happen,” Pryce explained.

“You can’t do anything about volcanoes or earthquakes?” Fathom asked, sounding a little surprised.

“Of course not, what do you want me to do about them?” Pryce asked incredulously, gesturing wildly to the entire mountainside they stood on.

“I don’t know, I thought maybe you can do math to find when the next earthquake will be,” Fathom said, twitching his spines a little. “You can find the distance and size of the sun, but not when the next earthquake will be?”

“No, humans don’t know how to calculate earthquakes,” Pryce said drily. Fathom seemed a bit disappointed at this, so Pryce added, “But it is interesting that earthquakes normally happen once a month, don’t you think? It might have something to do with the moon.”

“But moon…does not change with earthquake?” Fathom asked awkwardly.

“When one thing changes another, that is ‘affect’. The thing that happens is called the ‘effect’,” Pryce explained. “And you remember how Earth has gravity? All things have gravity, but only big things have lots of gravity. The moon has enough gravity to pull the water on the Earth, that changes how high the water is, which we call tide. The gravity of the moon affects Earth, and the effect is a change in the tide.”

“Other things have gravity?” Fathom asked in surprise, apparently not having considered this before.

“Yes, that is why they are round, like the globe,” Pryce explained, making Fathom’s eyes widen into circles as he realized why the two celestial bodies were round.

“We can calculate tides, but the book is in the ship,” Pryce said. “Do you want to see that tomorrow?”

“...yes,” Fathom said absently, looking as if he was considering whether he should leave the cave to look at the sun under this new perspective. After a few moments, he settled back down to rest, eyes staring blankly.

“Sorry, I didn’t remember to tell you that earlier,” Pryce said after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

Fathom flicked his spines dismissively. “You know many things I do not know, this is not your fault.”

Pryce felt that Fathom needed some time to process this new information, so they chatted about lighter topics for the rest of the day.

[Day 59]

Fathom groaned as he climbed down the last step to the beach. Despite all his grousing he had finished the trip in less time than he had on the day Pryce had taken out his stitches, and the dragon settled down to massage his aching limbs as Pryce went to fetch a certain book.

“So, like I said yesterday, tides are caused by gravity,” Pryce said, which was something of a simplification but also true enough. “The tides are affected by where the moon and sun is, if the moon and sun are in the same direction then the tides will be at their highest. Other things like weather also affect tides, but we can’t calculate those.”

“It is strange that some things you can calculate and some things you cannot. Are there humans who try to calculate earthquakes and weather?” Fathom asked curiously.

“Of course, humans tried to do this for thousands of years. We can calculate some, but weather changes very much, and we are often wrong,” Pryce paused, then added, “To calculate something before it happens is called ‘predict’. The worst earthquakes have caused tens of thousands of deaths, so if we can predict them then we can save many lives.” He opened the book to the table of predicted tides, calculated years in advance. Of course since they didn’t have data on seasons or the patterns of climate, these values came with wide error margins, but they were far better than nothing.

“This page predicts tides?” Fathom asked, pointing at the tables.

“Yes,” Pryce said, then explained how columns and rows worked, which seemed to interest the dragon more than he expected.

“This is very…I do not know how to explain this word,” Fathom said, blinking in minor annoyance. “Is there a word for when a thing is useful, but simple?”

“That is…elegant,” Pryce said, settling on that word after a few moments. “Elegant can mean a simple thing that is useful, but it can also mean something that looks good or something that can move very well…like a white tiger,” Pryce snickered, waiting for Fathom to bristle at the joke to add, “Or a dragon.”

Fathom snorted austerely at this, unamused. “If white tigers are more elegant than dragons, maybe they are faster than me, and will eat you next time,” he said, mouth parted in what was certainly a sardonic grin.

“Ah, but then no one can make you soup,” Pryce said somberly, as if this were a great tragedy.

“Yes, I will be very sad,” Fathom snorted in a sort of draconic chuckle, then turned to look down at the book. “What is written on the other pages?”

“The other pages have predictions for the weather, moon phases, lunar and solar eclipses,” Pryce listed. “Solar eclipses are when the sun becomes black because the moon moves in front of the sun.”

“You can predict solar eclipses?” Fathom asked in visible surprise, spines flaring.

“Well, the math is pretty complicated, and I don’t really know it, but other humans wrote the answers down here in this book, so I know when there will be an eclipse. This book has which day, hour, and minute where the eclipse will start.”

“When is the next eclipse?” The dragon asked urgently as he swung his head forward.

“42 days from now, one day before summer solstice,” Pryce answered after a moment’s delay. He knew this because he, along with the rest of the crew, had once hoped to see the total eclipse on day 101 on this island as they occurred very rarely on the mainland. He thought it was quite fortuitous that the solstice would be so close to the eclipse, perhaps he could use this coincidence to his advantage.

“Do dragons go to meet before the summer solstice? If we go there early and tell other dragons when the eclipse will happen, will they be impressed?” Pryce asked speculatively.

Fathom rumbled in thought, obviously unenthusiastic about the idea. “I do not know,” he eventually confessed. “Maybe some will be impressed, but some will not…I do not think it is good to tell them. Eclipse is not a good thing to see, dragons will not be happy.”

“Damn,” Pryce muttered under his breath. Of course the eclipse would be significant for dragons, given how they practically revered the sun. “Do dragons know that the eclipse is caused by the moon?”

Fathom bobbed his head uncertainly. “Some dragons think it is the moon, but others do not think so,” the dragon explained, then tilted his head thoughtfully. “You said the moon is sometimes farther away and sometimes closer, this makes sense if the moon is causing eclipses. Some eclipses are darker than other eclipses, and this is because the moon is closer to Earth,” Fathom said in realization, then looked at Pryce for confirmation.

“Yes, exactly,” Pryce nodded. “Do some dragons think an eclipse means bad things will happen?”

“Bad things? Why will bad things happen after an eclipse?” Fathom asked, confused.

“A long time ago, humans thought eclipses were bad things because it looked like the sun was dying,” Pryce shrugged, aware that this was rather silly. “An eclipse looks like the sun is disappearing, so I thought maybe dragons think eclipses are bad things.”

“This is…not wrong,” Fathom hummed. “Some dragon think eclipse causes bad things, other dragons think eclipse…teaches bad things will happen?” He asked uncertainly.

“That’s a warning, when someone tells you not to do something, or if someone tells you that something bad will happen, that is a warning.”

“Yes, some dragons think an eclipse is a warning,” Fathom nodded.

“Warning of what?” Pryce asked, wondering what dragons would consider to be threats.

“Some think it is a warning for bad weather, or sickness,” Fathom said, which made sense. “But if an eclipse is just a shadow, then this does not make sense,” he snorted dismissively.

“Yes, an eclipse is just the shadow of the moon, which is a very big rock,” Pryce confirmed.

“What do humans from a long time ago think eclipses do?” Fathom asked, tilting his head.

“Depends on which group of humans, but most of them think it is…bad luck, and luck is things that happen that you can do nothing about, like weather. If good things happen that you did nothing for, that is good luck. If bad things happen that you did nothing for, that is bad luck.”

“You used this word before, when you used stitches on me and this morning,” Fathom said, shuddering a bit at the unpleasant memory. “Not getting infection is luck, that makes sense, but what does ‘morning person’ mean? Is that a type of human?” Fathom asked curiously.

“Oh, no, that’s just a thing humans say, it means someone who wakes up early in the morning. Most people are not ‘morning persons’, and like to sleep until later.”

“You sleep less than me,” Fathom noted. “How many hours do humans sleep?” The dragon always went to sleep before Pryce, and almost always woke up later, so of course he didn’t know how long Pryce slept.

“Normally humans sleep 7 or 8 hours at night, but I usually sleep 6,” Pryce said. He knew it was healthier to get 8 hours, of course, but a busy life had led to him becoming accustomed to a handful of hours of sleep per day, so his body tended not to sleep more than 6 hours under normal circumstances.

“That is not much, dragons usually sleep…half of one day?” Fathom said, tilting his head. “One long sleep is less than half of one day, but we have other small sleeps too.”

“Those are naps,” Pryce said. That explained why Fathom left earlier on some days, but even then he was probably sleeping less than usual by visiting Pryce so much. “Were you sleeping less because of me?”

“Yes,” Fathom mumbled after a yawn. “But dragons need less sleep if we do not fly much. I use less strength when talking to you, so I do not need to sleep much.”

That made sense, dragons were probably inclined to sleep so much because moving was so energy-intensive. If anything Pryce was surprised they didn’t sleep more than twelve hours a day, but that just made sleep all the more important to Fathom’s recovery. “Let’s go back to your home, you can take a nap if you’re tired.”

Fathom was exhausted by the time he finished the arduous journey back home. His long nap gave Pryce some time to mull over what to discuss next; the solstice was in 43 days, and he hoped dearly that it would be enough time for Fathom to regain the ability to fly.

If he was going to be a sort of ambassador of humanity, then learning how to understand draconic speech was definitely worth the effort – he doubted it would go well, not with his limited hearing, but that was no reason to give up without an attempt.

If that didn’t go well he could always read to Fathom, but the printed books were all too complex – though he briefly considered the guide to identifying rocks and minerals before dismissing that option. He supposed he could just write out the sentences, even if that was more work than he’d like.

Pryce belatedly realized he had forgotten to check on the Petri dishes today, and rushed to check up on the microbial colonies.

“What is that sound you are making?” Fathom asked, having been woken from his light slumber by Pryce’s whoop of victory.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Pryce said, calming down a little. “Look, this is the fungi that makes penicillin, it’s name is penicillium chrysogenum!” He enthused, tilted the dish at Fathom who looked unimpressed at the fuzzy colony of mold.

“This thing makes penicillin?” Fathom asked doubtfully, looking a little scornful but also conscious of the fact that he owed his life to the unremarkable thing in Pryce’s hands.

“Yes, this makes lots of it,” Pryce said, unscrewing the dish to take a sample to place under the microscope. He could recognize the distinctive features of the mold in a heartbeat, but the arrangement of spores and conidia could only be seen under a microscope, and he spent the rest of the day confirming that this was the exact strain he desired.

[JOURNAL ENTRY]

Day 59,

It’s difficult to plan and prepare for things when I have no idea what could happen. Fathom is uncertain how the other dragons would react to me, so I tried to learn draconic today in hopes that it might be beneficial; it didn’t go well.

From the way Fathom explained it, Draconic is a tonal language, meaning the tone with which you say a word changes what that word is. I can’t even take notes to study with – Draconic words just can’t be reproduced by the English alphabet. Even worse, certain words sound identical to others, but Fathom insists they are different. I think those words have parts that are outside the human range of hearing, so that can’t be helped.

Both Fathom and I were frustrated by my lack of progress, hopefully he’s still open to teaching me his language tomorrow.

On a related note, Fathom determined the range of frequencies I could hear by humming a note and lowering it until I could no longer perceive it, and then doing the same for high-pitched frequencies. Now that I think about it, it seems like dragons would make great singers. I wonder if they have any songs? That would be something to see hear. Maybe I should ask Fathom tomorrow.

Despite all my reservations, I do have some great news: I now have a healthy colony of penicillium chrysogenum! I never thought I’d say this, but the familiar sulcate grooves and velutinous texture was a sight for sore eyes.

The microscopic features check out too; short, smooth stipes, biverticillate branches, ampulliform phialides, medium sized collula, and smooth, dark green ellipsoidal conidia were all present.[1]

Should the need ever arise, I have the equipment and materials I need in order to make more penicillin-G, which I hope will be more effective than penicillin-V given its intravenous route, avoiding what I assume are the destructive stomach acids present in a dragon’s stomach.

At first I thought it would be pointless to make any, as penicillin-G will break down and become useless quite quickly in this island’s warm climate.

But then I had an idea; what if I stored it in the river? It’s 6.5 degrees, which is on the high end of what Penicillin-G can take, but it is cold enough to keep it from breaking down. Penicillium chrysogenum takes about 200-300 hours to ferment to produce about 1.5 grams per liter of mold-broth; making penicillin on-demand is obviously not a great idea when someone’s dying of infection and/or fever.

Guess I know what I’m doing the next few weeks.