Global Warming

A Planet Reclaimed

Global Warming

Keith knew dragons weren’t real. Global warming, that was real, but not dragons. Then their hibernation ended.

Keith was in high school when the footage first leaked. It became one of those moments: where were you when Kennedy was shot? Where were you when the World Trade Centers fell? Where were you when the dragons came out of hibernation?

Keith was in government class. The teacher, a progressive kind who had organized rallies in DC in her youth, pulled up the live footage.

Shadowy forms flew around peaks veiled in fog. The scientist filming informed them that the biggest glaciers in the world were in Antarctica, but due to global warming, they had been melting. Keith thought it was a joke but didn’t complain when the school sent them home early. His mother had stood in the living room, remote clutched in a death grip. He couldn’t understand why she was freaking out.

“They’re not real,” he told her.

“It’s CGI,” Keith’s father agreed from the phone on speaker.

“Someone is pulling a political stunt,” Becky said, flopping onto the couch. Though his sister was younger than him, it was she who taught him to be skeptical of the world. Some of the magic was lost in that but, in her words, it was better to lose the charm than to be hoodwinked.

“The politicians are trying to make a point about global warming. That’s a Hollywood-level production. Their budget must be insane,” she said, and then, “I’m hungry.”

As the days pass and the video clips continue to come with clearer images and the serious attention of not just the US president but other world leaders, Keith realized that dragons were, in fact, real. The world was glued to their TV sets and laptops like they hadn’t been since the moon landing. The generally accepted theory was that dragons were like the mudfish of Africa, who lowered their heart rate and slept in the ground, except the dragons slept in ice, and their hibernation lasted longer than a few months.

“It’s still a political stunt,” Becky said over her morning cereal. Keith thought she was probably right. Still, he watched the TV in fascination as scientists crawled around on the ice (in full body protective suits) to collect dragon droppings.

Since dragons had been hibernating for a millennium, they were weak. Their muscles were atrophied, malnourished after centuries without eating, and easy to kill. The world governments sought to do just that:

“Before the dinosaurs are strong enough to reclaim the planet,” the politicians and generals said.

Of course, the animal rights activists went to war, as Becky knew they would. An agreement was negotiated. NASA threw all its funding into Dragon Management and Development (NDMD) to tame the dragons, and help them get their exercise. Russia came on board, in fact, the whole world joined forces to manage the plight. There was even a new area of literary studies: scholars were re-exploring what they called ‘dragon-narratives.’ Apparently, there was a very real chance those stories were not just fairytales, as all believed, but actual historical accounts from their ancestors meant to warn them about what was coming.

That was Keith’s area of interest, hoping he could maybe understand the dragons better. But his parents misunderstood his fascination, and enthusiastically encouraged him to serve the world in any way he could.

“It’s all hands on deck right now, after all.”

What had surprised him was not the sheer quantity of men and women who joined the military service, but how quickly he had been diverted to the NDMD department. After a series of tests (physical, mental, psychological) he had been tapped for a special service group. He took a plane south to the Antarctic, an ice cube of neutrality and now very well-funded scientific inquiry.

After a few weeks of training, Keith stood in the waiting room and pulled the grieves tight. He heard the telltale roar, a bellowing like all the steam engines of the world had collided into the side of a granite mountain. There was a hiss, and then a sound like a hurricane, except the temperature in the room went up ten degrees. Thanks to the special HVAC units, it wasn’t hotter.

Keith took a breath and stepped out into the icy ring.

The scaley beast was long, closer to what the Chinese had theorized dragons would look like. He walked slowly, watching the dragon as it paced in circles, its long tail trailing. The scientists had collected shed scales and found, when they cleaned them, this dragon’s scales shone a deep ocean blue. Right now, his body was crusted in soot and dirt.

The dragon noticed Keith, let out a snort that condensed the frigid air, and stood stock still. Keith halted. The dragon’s irises were white, and he wondered if they had been like that before hibernation, or if staying asleep for so long had drained the color out of them. Keith could see the dirt crusted along the corners of his lids and longed to clean it for him. Would the dragon let him get that close? The last three guys were caught in a torrent of fire, NDMD suits well crisped. Once a dragon decided he didn’t like you, that was it. No second chances.

But Keith was on a streak. This was his fifth visit so far, and he hadn’t been incinerated yet. The scientists had thought he was insane for not wearing a face guard, a helmet designed by NDMD. He’d left it in the waiting room that first time, figuring that if it hadn’t helped the other guys, why would it help him? Besides, if he had been the dragon, he’d want to see the human’s eyes.

“Hey there, Sky,” Keith said, pitching his voice low and gentle.

The dragon tilted its head and let out another puff through his massive nostrils. Keith knew nick-naming the dragon Sky was unoriginal, but he wanted him to be able to fly, and he thought Sky wanted this too. Either way, it was better than AD0019, as the NDMD had labeled him.

He took a step closer, and another, and paused as Sky shifted and ruffled his wings, then resumed staring at Keith. Instinct told him not to look away. He took another step, one more, and held. He took a fish out of his bag and threw it up to Sky. The dragon caught it.

Keith had insisted that Sky not be deprived of food before he went in, for obvious reasons. But he also wanted to establish a positive association with his presence. He threw another fish up. The next one he held in his hand as he stepped closer.

Suddenly he was aware of the undulating masses of scales, the sheer size of Sky, the presence of him. The dragon could squash Keith in seconds if he wanted, leaving nothing more than a gooey red smear on the ice. Keith understood then how foolish this all was; sending a little-bitty man to make nice with the world’s ultimate predator. No wonder the NDMD selected their recruits young and stupid. But then Sky’s big white iris was level with his face.

Keith couldn’t help himself. He reached up and scraped the crud away from Sky’s eye. He knew the scientists were probably going nuts in the observation room right now, but he didn’t really care. Sky’s massive eyelid blinked a few times, the second clear lid sliding forward over it first, testing. Keith placed his hand on the scales, heart thudding, but suddenly Sky lifts his massive head. Keith froze. He had made a grave mistake. He was about to die.

The dragon shook his head, like a dog shaking off water, and then lowers it again, but this time on the other side. Keith let out his breath, and step forward to clean the other eye. He felt as he did this that he was facing a new frontier; something unknown in a world already explored.