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Dragons of Science

There's a saying that has existed for as long as anyone can remember, and has changed hands countless times. "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic ", a likely truth accepted in classrooms, during thought experiments, and even by the humble writer of fiction. But what if this was not the case? What if instead, magic was a science in and of itself, which at times paralleled the world of test tubes and mathematics. Perhaps it was a force, based on rules, no matter how alien, which could be expressed in figures. As such, one could argue that magic WAS science, and vice versa. It was just two different ways of reaching the same end.

Provided of course, that somebody proved magic existed. Some people were actively trying to do so, and had been doing so for centuries. But they were usually not the most academic of people. Still, it was possible that somebody might stumble across this "new" force at some point, possibly while not even looking for it...

* * *

The year is 2261, and mankind has reached for the stars. After decades of sitting on their hands, a number of government agencies and civilian organizations finally made a serious attempt at leaving Mother Earth, and becoming a space faring race. It was a slow start, but by 2018, people had finally landed on Mars. Over the years that followed, a colony was built on the red planet, with new settlers arriving every few months. Soon after a research station was built on the moon, which bloomed into an industrial sector. Factories churned out ships built in space, meant for higher speeds and bigger payloads. They were sorely needed, as more and more people wanted to move off Earth, and head for the moon or Mars.

As time passed, the martian colony became self sufficient, and various mining operations were established in the asteroid belt. Moons orbiting Saturn and Jupiter were soon home to men, followed by more moons around Uranus and Neptune. Even Pluto got a research outpost. Around the turn of the century however, there was a scientific breakthrough of unprecidented importance. A terraforming unit was created while attempting to invent a polution scrubber, to assist in further cleaning up Earth's air quality. The unit did indeed suck up polutants and spit out fresh air, but it could do so much more. It wasn't long before somebody thought about plunking one on Mars, and feeding it something other than air polution.

Dust, rock, ice, and even waste were fed into these amazing machines, only to be broken down and turned into atmosphere. When Mars was first settled, it was estimated that it would take centuries to produce enough of an atmosphere to support life. The terraformers did it in 5 years. Now all the colonies have a breathable atmosphere, and are being heated up thanks to larger heat traps. People are moving in to develop farmland as fast as ships can take them off Earth. And thanks to the wonders of population growth, it will likely never be fast enough. In the orbital construction yards around the moon, a larger scale colonization effort is in progress.

Recent developments in propulsion technology spurred several projects into motion, one of which was a giant colony ship larger than anything previously constructed. It could hold 100,000 colonists, and send them as a group with everything they needed to start fresh on a new world. At the same time, a first generation FTL drive was being tested on Mars. If all went according to plan, they would have a full sized FTL engine to put on the colony ship within months. The new drive would send the colonists speeding through the stars, at several times the speed of light. They had their sights on Gliese 581, a star 20 light years from Earth. Long range observational data indicated that it had planets ready to support life already, and others that could be easily terraformed.

It was worth checking out.

It was only a matter of time before mankind branched out of it's own solar system, and set up shop around an unfamiliar star...

But that was a quest for another day. Research and development continue in many other fields, from medicine to agriculture, and even power generation. With the advent of Nuclear Fusion, the power needs of humanity have been more than taken care of. Still, there's always room for improvement, right? In a tiny little research complex on the outside of the Toronto Archology, a scientist by the name of Greggory Smith was busy trying to unlock the secrets of the universe. Or at least, that's what he jokingly told all his friends while at the bar. In truth, he was merely pouring over research data into the wide field of energy generation. It was his hope to stumble upon something or another that would lead to the next big revolution in power generation.

Like most of the citizens of Toronto, he lived in the mega-structure that held all of the local popuation. It was really dozens of super sized buildings all joined together with transit networks and sky bridges, but everyone viewed it as a singular entity. Rather than working in the same mega structure like countless others, he had a lab in one of the old parts of town. Most of the ancient buildings had been abandoned and leveled to make way for the super structures, but some survived. This one used to be a warehouse, but it worked just fine for the task at hand. Greggory, or Greg more often than not, tapped away at his computer terminal, and set up the next experiment for the day.

He had a list of instructions to follow, with commands to be punched into his computer system. This in turn would manipulate a particle accelerator and various simulation systems. Eventually the powers that be figured one of the various combinations of tests would yield something. Perhaps they'd finally figure out how to properly work with anti-matter, or some other as yet undiscovered form of energy generation.

Greg hummed to himself and took another sip from his ever present coffee mug, as he entered the last of the calculations into the program. With the tap of a key, the whole system cycled over into automatic, and ran the test. Greg was left with little to do other than kicking up his feet, and relaxing for however long it took. The particle accelerator fired up, and began shooting photons at different power levels and wavelengths. Energy was released and recorded by sensors placed all over the lab, to be studied by other people at a later date.

As Greg lazed there wiggling his feet around atop his desk, his terminal display blinked once and caught his attention. The system had detected... something, in one of the various targets in the lab. As he watched, it flickered again, registering some unknown force here and there in the lab. Greg reached out for the "call" button located near his desk, which would summon his superiors to log a potential discovery. Before his hand hit the button however, he recoiled in pain, and waved his hand around while hissing through clenched teeth. It was as if he'd just been struck by the mother of all static shocks, and it hurt like hell! As he glanced at his hand to check for electrical burns, he had to do a double take. For the briefest of moments, he didn't see his hand at all. He had seen something else entirely. Something huge, and purple, and tipped with dangerous looking claws... But upon closer inspection, it was indeed his hand. And there was no sign of damage.

His monitor blinked a few more times, then stopped all together as the system finished its test cycle. Greg was left curious, confused, and with a slight local numbness on his left index finger. Shrugging, he grabbed his coffee, sat back down, and wrote a report. Unknown results from test conditions, moving on to next cycle. Tapping away at a keyboard, he set up the next test cycle...

It was late when he got back to his residential unit, and he was positively starving. It had been a relatively short trip through the transit network as it always was, he had just stayed later than usual taking care of some extra tests that were thrown his way. One moving sidewalk, a 5 minute trip on the LRT, and a 2 minute ride in a high speed elevator deposited him to Tower 17, floor 153, unit 73. It was a fairly nice apartment with a good view of one of the many courtyards at ground level. It contained a reasonable bedroom with a normal bed, a fairly average kitchen, a standard refresher, and even a living room. It was enough space to live in, work in, and even have a few guests over for tea.

It suited him.

Dinner was waiting in the delivery chute, still wrapped up and warm in its thermal packaging. He plunked the solitary package on the coffee-table in-front of his entertainment system, and fetched himself a nice cup of coffee to go with it all. It took mere seconds after sitting down for the system to turn on, find what movie he was last watching, and resume where he left off. Some classic science fiction movie, from the early days of colonisation. He turned his attention to dinner, which was still waiting, and the subject of much need according to his growling stomach.

Peeling off the lid, he was greeted by a burst of savory smelling steam, and a meal fit for a king. Or perhaps, fit for a research assistant. Fried rice filled with chicken and egg sat along-side cooked fish, beef, shrimp, and various seasoned vegetables. There was even a small container of soup, and some cookies for desert. He tucked in eagerly, washing down a good thousand calories or more with his precious dark brew. That done, he settled in for an enjoyable evening with the remainder of his movie.

A short time later, the program shut off, and Greg got back to work. He sent the thermal wrappings back down the delivery chute, for cleaning and eventual re-use. He included a small tip on the electronic accounts, as a thank you to whomever put together the wonderful meal. That done, he went to the far side of the unit, and fired up his own personal research terminal. He wanted to check and see if there were any results from that strange test earlier in the day. He knew that the report had likely not even been read yet, let alone analyzed and re-tested for verification. Sure enough, there was nothing there. Shrugging, he set about the next important part of his evening.

Stepping into the refresher, he poured a deep and warm bath, grabbed his electronic reader, and lazed back in the warm waters. He let the water jets give him a gentile massage as he scrolled through a novel, one of many stored on the electronic datapad. He often spent his evenings like this, happily bathing, getting pampered by all the wonderful technology at his disposal, and reading books from the previous century.

This too suited him.

At exactly 11pm he emerged relaxed and content from the refresher, and swung around the corner to his bedroom. He set the bed systems to wake him up at exactly 7am, same as every day. It was a predictable routine that had served him well for years, and he saw no reason to change it. In his state of heightened relaxation, it took mere minutes to fall into a deep and relaxing sleep.

He dreamed of flying. This wasn't an unusual thing, as just about everyone took a plane, or helicopter, or jump-jet to get around between the mega cities. What was different however, was that there didn't seem to be a ship around him. He was flying under his own power. Greg looked around within the dream state, expecting to see himself flapping his arms comically, like some cartoon character of old. Instead, he saw something else entirely.

Great wings were pumping slowly to either side of him, but obviously with great force. He could feel the power of these huge limbs, and he spent some time just observing the momvent of every joint, every scrap of sinew. It was almost hypnotic in its perfection. Looking around, he could see the great city of Toronto below him, huge and magnificent, but a fair distance away. That must mean he was flying high indeed, as the tallest towers were nearly 2 kilometers in height. He was gripped by panic then, wondering just what the hell he was doing up here? And who did those wings belong to?

As he continued to question reality, he became aware of the dream, and woke up with a start. Thrashing around with a sudden feeling of falling, he bumped his head against the ceiling, and knocked over a lamp on the other side of the room. Panting, he soon flopped down safe and secure on his rather messy bed, and looked around. He was in his room, and it was starting to get bright outside. As if on queue, his bed alarm went off, proudly announcing that it was 7am, partially clowdy, and 16c. Greg rubbed at his head, feeling sore after striking it against the ceiling. He stopped mid-rub, and blinked to himself. How the hell had he managed to hit his head on the ceiling? It was 10ft high! Upon closer inspection, there was definitely a dent in the plaster, which made no sense at all.

He must have jumped up violently in his sleep. He had a sudden mental image of himself running around the apartment, flapping his arms like a madman and jumping on the bed. He would have laughed, if it were anyone else. All he could do was shrug it off however, and investigate another worrying sight. One of his lamps was on the floor, and there was a scratch in the wall where it had stood. This also made no sense, as there didn't appear to be anything that could have knocked it over. He hadn't thrown anything, or kicked anything while flailing around on the bed. It was a mystery to be solved another time.

He quickly got dressed and left his apartment, heading down the elevator to ground level. There he spent a few minutes enjoying breakfast at coffee shop. With some eggs and pastries washed down with several cups of coffee, he felt reasonably well off once more. It was once again a short ride through the transit network to get to the old warehouse where he worked. All too soon he was once again at his desk, punching in figures, and running tests. It was his hope that things would get back to normal once again...

* * *

Shortly after lunch, Greg found his workload starting to back off somewhat. Eventually he reached a point where there wasn't another test waiting for him. Shrugging to himself, he decided to get a fresh cup of coffee, and putter around. He thought about that strange test the day before, and how it still hadn't procuded much in the way of attention or results. Sipping at his wonderful brew, he poked through his files, and called up the test once more. Entering all the settings once more, he fired up the system, and let it run a second time. For all he knew, he might have missed something important the first time. More data never hurt, right?

Once again energy levels built up inside the equipment, and the computer began to register the detection of unknown substances. He began to feel tingly all over, as if an intense static charge was building up in the room. He wasn't getting a shock from touching anything however, and his hair wasn't standing up on end. All at once things went to hell, and in a big way. It took him a moment to realize what exactly was happening, as his senses were flooded with information. His computer began registering many more bursts of unknown energy, and the computer didn't like that one bit. It decided this must be a problem, and sounded the radiation alarm. Warning sirens began sounding inside his compound and in the rest of the building, plus everywhere nearby. Thick metal shutters closed down over the windows and doors, effectively trapping Greg inside.

In a panic, he threw himself at the nearest door, only to find it barred shut by several inches of lead and steel. The air began to get dense with... something, and took on a strange purple hue. The sense of static built up to the point of being an itch over his entire body, which no amount of scratching could fix. Running around in circles didn't help much, so Greg began stabbing at the Call button as hard as he could. After several attempts the unit broke, pierced by a fat black claw on the end of his finger.

After a moment of blinking and thinking about the situation, he turned his attention down to his left hand. Sure enough, it was a big purple paw, with thick fingers and very large claws. He inspected his right hand, and as he watched it suddenly puffed up into a matching paw. His whole body seemed to vibrate for a moment, then his shoes exploded off suddenly large clawed foot-paws, and thickening ankles. The rest of his clothing soon followed suit, lab coat ripping to shreds around an expanding torso, thickening limbs, and elongating neck.

Greg lost his balance and fell to the concrete floor, yelping with surprise as huge wings erupted from his back, only to fold themselves up at his leathery sides. A tail snaked its way out of the ruins of his pants, stretching out thicker as it grew longer, and tipped itself with a dark purple spade. Finally his head elongated into a thick muzzle with whiskers and scales, plus horns and fins. The sensory overload was too much to handle, and the freshly created dragon toppled over onto one side, and passed out.

All the while the room seemed to fill with a thick purple and blue mist, which spiraled around this way and that. It hung over the floor like a thick fog, and drifted up to fill the ceiling like so much smoke. The systems were going haywire with energy detections, before finally shutting themselves down for safety. Having nowhere else to go, the fog-like mist settled aroung the dragon on the floor, being breathed in and out with no problems to speak of.

Soon one of the shutters rolled back a bit, and several instruments were shoved through on long poles. They clicked and chattered amongst themselves for a while, and apparently reached consensus with loud beeps. That done, the door opened, and a lone figure wandered in wearing an armored suit. He waved around still more instruments, until nodding and sounding the all clear. No sign of radiation, staff were free to enter.

Hours passed, and dozens if not hundreds of people combed over every inch of the bunker-like complex. Some were cleaning teams, looking for any signs of contamination. Finding none to speak of, they went back about their other duties. The others were mostly scientists and administrative types, trying to find out what went wrong, and where the scientist on duty had gone off to. They worried that he might have been vaporized in a random energy discharge from the particile accelerator, or one of the other bits of equipment. It was a far-fetched theory, but stranger things had happened.

All the while Greg slept in the middle of the floor, wings wrapped tight to his sides, head curled up against his tail, and tail flopped against his flank. Somehow all the people wandering around managed to not step on the sleeping dragon, or see it for that matter. It would have been a curious sight, if Greg had been awake and observing the situation. As such, it would merely be a scholarly debate for another time. Do people not see sleeping dragons? And if not, why?

Eventually one of the staff brushed up against something or another, and looked down to examine whatever it was. Finding nothing, he went about his business. Greg however felt the bump up against his frame, and opened a suddenly large and green eye, with a bright red iris. Yawning, he stood up and stretched, flapping his wings once and lashing his tail about. Several hats were knocked off, but nobody suspected that it might be the dragon in the room.

It was far more likely to be wind, of course.

Greg smacked his jaws together and looked around with some confusion, wondering why so many people were poking around his workspace. He opened his maw to enquire, when he suddenly realized something was terribly wrong. Pondering the matter for a moment, he decided that it was the fact that his throat felt like sand paper. Grumbling, he paused his attempts at inquiry, and reached for his ever present coffee mug. He was moved to pout when he found the thing tipped over onto the floor, and quite broken.

Padding along to the machine itself, he lifted the entire pot up to parched leathery lips, and guzzled the steaming hot contents down. As the caffeine did its thing, the gigantic winged reptile was brought more into focus, and noticed a few things. First, there was a large purple paw where his hand should be, holding the coffee pot. Second, he had just consumed boiling hot coffee, without so much as a twinge of heat. And third, there appeared to be a dragon attached to his hand-paw.

With a rush of emotion and confusion, the prior events all came back to him. He looked his new body over with both surprise and fear, then a lot of scientific curiosity. It was definitely a marvel to behold! He was positively rippling with muscle from tip to tail, minus a rounded torso in the belly region. He could feel barely restrained power in every fleck of his being, and suddenly was calmly certian that he could charge right through a wall with no troubles to speak of.

Setting the now empty pot back down, he turned to his guests and tried to get their attention. A rumbling cough didn't do the trick, nor did doing so sufficiently louder. Thumping his tail around didn't seem to work either, and waving a clawed paw in-front of somebodies face produced not a single reaction. Other than annoying a dragon, anyways. Huffing and screwing up his reptilian features in a scowl, Greg noted two curling whisps of purple smoke emit themselves from his nostrils. Curious, and a subject for another time.

For now, he bounced around the room, shaking the entire structure, and busied himself outright bumping into people. Soon the whole room was accusing one another of being clumsy, and not paying attention to where they were walking. It was chaotic to be sure, but still didn't accomplish much. With a sigh, the purple dragon gave up, and glanced over at the open door. Padding in that direction, he managed to slip on through with barely a scrape on his leathery hide.

For whatever reason, it appeared nobody could see him. There was likely a scientific explanation, but he wasn't in a position to launch a research project at the moment. With a stiff upper lip, he turned towards the transit network, and tried to at least go home...

To be continued in part 2.