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“And that… that’s an egg.” Dr. Choi stopped talking. The three students perched around her shoulders shared looks. Dr. Choi had been talking them through the camera’s footage for an hour or so when they found the shipwreck. “Nothing as cool as a good hydrothermal vent, but we can take a look and make a note for others to come to see if they can get any information off it. Historians, ugh,” she had said with a tone of distaste to the joy of her undergraduate minions.
And now, in the shipwreck, there was an egg.
“What are we supposed to do?” asked one of the students.
Dr. Choi thought about it. If it could hatch, it would destroy the shipwreck when getting out. If it couldn’t, it was still probably a good idea to get it out of there. “Call the captain,” she said at last, “he can deal with this.”
Captain Laurence, former navy man and current captain for academic sea voyagers, arrived at the lab promptly. The students dispersed as he approached, and Dr. Choi gave him a polite nod. “Captain, we have a bit of a situation.”
“How may I be of assistance, Doctor?”
“We were looking at a shipwreck to familiarize the students with the footage from our submarine, and we found an egg.”
“Ah,” Captain Laurence took a look at the screen. “Indeed.”
“Yeah.”
“Sea serpents build nests for their eggs and can be found near them. There have been no sightings of serpents in the last five days. This egg has either been abandoned for a while or has drifted here. In either case, the international naval code requires us to bring abandoned eggs to a foster serpent to avoid a resurgence of feral, ship-attacking serpents.”
Dr. Choi nodded. She had never been in the navy, and her knowledge of the international naval codes was close to none. Still, she had been researching underwater hydrothermal vents for long enough to get an idea of the number of laws surrounding sea serpents.
“This sub only has a camera and lamp,” she explained, “but we can get the petrology team to use theirs. It can take big samples and will be able to pick up this egg.”
“I will start to prep the deck and contact Dr. Lance. If I may enquire—I have a strong interest in maritime history—what ship was this?”
One of the students, his hands still taking notes despite his eyes being glued to Dr. Choi and the screen, piped up from where he was standing, “The name is almost gone, but I think it said Amitié .”
“Well, this sure is something,” Riley said.
It is not that they wished for the egg to be dead—Laurence could never bring himself to despise life so much—but it would have made their lives easier.
The egg had been cold when they got it on board, but it lacked the rotten smell so characteristic of dead eggs. After a few hours swaddled, the egg had started to warm up; it was still alive.
“I called Cat,” Riley added, “to ask if she knew about things like this. She said that some eggs, when the temperature drops, enter a hibernation of sorts. I’m not sure if serpents are the same way, but it could explain it.”
“The egg could have been there since Napoleon was in power,” murmured Laurence.
“Yeah, well. Who knows. Some sea serpents are weird; maybe they left the egg in the wreck and then forgot about it.”
Unlikely. They both knew it.
Laurence turned from staring at the egg, carefully swaddled and now with a digital thermometer constantly monitoring it, and turned towards Riley. “I have talked with the scientists. They refuse to cut their trip short to get the egg to shore.”
“And there wouldn’t be enough time, Will. The egg started to harden as soon as it got below freezing.”
“I know. I know,” he took a deep breath. “I have asked the scientists and their students, but they are all land-based and cannot be companioned to a sea serpent.”
“And we cannot let it be feral.”
Laurence nodded. “And we cannot let it be feral.”
They both turned back towards the egg. Laurence could swear he could see the egg shift lightly. As if it had a heartbeat.
There was a long silence, and the two friends and coworkers stared at the egg. They had served together in the navy, and when Laurence had gone private to buy his own ship and work with universities, Riley had followed him as his first mate.
“I,” Riley started. “I can’t. Will, I would do anything for you, but I can’t. Lily already hates me as it is, and this would just be the cherry on top.”
Riley’s fiancée, one Catherine Harcourt, was a captain in the Aerial Corps. She was the companion to a breathtaking longwing by the name of Lily, who was jealous of her captain’s attention and was still ambivalent about Riley.
Laurence let a long sigh leave him. Riley gave him a friendly pat, and Laurence nodded. “I always did love the sea. If it wants to, it could swim alongside the ship and help us move lamps or rocks around.”
“See, it could be great!”
“At Toulon,” Laurence’s voice was soft but still managed to fill his whole cabin, “the French had made ready for sea, but it had taken them months to do so. The original invasion had— Dear, did you move just now? It is a bit late for hatching; why don’t you wait until the morning?”
They had no stable internet connection in the middle of the ocean. Still, the satellite phone worked most of the time, and Harcourt had been kind enough to give Laurence some advice.
“I am not so sure about sea serpents,” she had said, “but dragons at least can hear from inside the shell. They don’t remember, not really, but it is how they learn languages. You should talk to the egg; could you imagine if it couldn’t talk English?”
One of the scientist’s students, a short, mousy student that couldn’t decide between engineering and marine geology, had brought Laurence a harness one day. She had been shifting around as if unsure if her gift would be accepted, but Laurence had been thankful.
He took the egg everywhere. When it was his turn to work, he put the egg next to him and talked it through what he was doing. At night, he read to it. They had just finished Laurence’s favorite Admiral Nelson biography and had just started on The Fighting Temeraire . According to the reviews, it had an excellent part on Trafalgar, and Laurence couldn’t help himself: he was a fan.
The egg had settled back, and Laurence gave it a pat.
“Very well, dear. Now, where were we? Ah, yes. The original invasion had been intended for early summer, but it was not until August that the Toulon Squadron was sufficiently manned to mount a sortie.”
All the scientists were on the deck. They might be a combination of all sorts of marine geologists—Laurence could never keep track of the differences between one sort and another—but they all wanted to see the hatching. His crew, too, was there. Even those that were supposed to be currently asleep, but he couldn’t blame them.
“Are you ready, dear?” he asked the egg. “We have some fresh fish for you.”
The egg had been moving around all morning, as if the hatchling was trying to find a way to get out but couldn’t. Harcourt had repeatedly reminded him not to open the egg and let the serpent find its own way out.
Then, a crack appeared.
“Good job,” Laurence said.
It took a couple more minutes for the hatchling to make its way out of the egg, but it managed eventually.
It shook its body. Once, twice. As if trying to get rid of the egg’s goop. And it was very clearly not a sea serpent. Looks were shared around the deck.
“Laurence?” the little dragonet asked. “Laurence, I am hungry and dirty. And I want to go swimming! Is this our ship? I like it!”
Laurence had no idea what to do. This was not a sea serpent he could just ask to swim along the ship and check on every few days. This was an actual dragon—one who would require constant attention and would probably need land.
Riley put a hand on his shoulder. “I can call Cat,” he whispered. “The corps can take him and—”
“No,” Laurence cut him off. The little dragonet was now exploring the deck. The students were waving but keeping their distance.
“What is that?” the hatchling asked in awe.
Laurence approached the little dragonet and sat next to him. “That, my dear, is a submarine for marine exploration.”
“Laurence! It is you! I am hungry, and I want to go swimming.”
Laurence nodded. “Maybe you should wait to swim until you are a bit larger,” he suggested, “but we can get you some fresh fish.”
Laurence knew that the dragonet would eventually have to sleep on the deck. Even now, he could swear he was a couple of inches larger than when he hatched. But until then, he saw no reason why the dragonet shouldn’t be able to sleep in his room.
The small creature had made himself comfortable in the bundle of blankets that had been used to wrap his egg and was now half napping, half listening to Laurence’s narration.
“Say, Laurence.”
Laurence stopped, placed his bookmark on the book, and closed it. He knew the dragonet was not a human baby, but it was still an infant of some sort. If he wanted attention, then he would get it.
“Yes, dear?”
“Why do ships get to have names but not me? In your book, there is Blanche, Dido, and Theseus, among others. And Temeraire, who had a full book written about her! And we are in the Reliant, which also gets to have a name. It isn’t fair.”
Laurence placed the book down and shifted himself so he would be closer to the blanket bed. The dragonet extended himself and placed his head on Laurence’s knees.
“I apologize, my dear. I forgot to ask if you would want one.”
“Yes, please!”
Laurence nodded. He extended his hand and picked up an old, battered book. It was a visual encyclopedia of important ships across history. The dragonet opened his eyes fully, and Laurence angled the book so he could look at the images.
They spent almost an hour leafing through the pages. Every name got rejected for one reason or another. Some by the dragonet, who didn’t like the name, others by Laurence, who disliked that particular ship.
“It is impossible,” said the dragonet between yawns. “There just isn’t a ship as cool as the Temeraire.”
Laurence petted his head. “And there was more than one Temeraire, you know? The one I am reading to you about is famous because she was in Trafalgar. She also had a very famous painting made of her.” Laurence showed him the cover of The Fighting Temeraire, and the dragonet hummed in appreciation. “There were many others. The last Temeraire was decommissioned from the navy five years ago.”
“Really? What happened to her?”
Laurence smiled. “It was a research vessel. The navy found they did not have a need for her anymore, as the research they wanted was better suited to smaller vessels. They decommissioned her and sold her to a private individual. As the Temeraire was her naval name, she had to be renamed, but she is still working as a research vessel.”
“Oh, that is fascinating. Have you ever seen her?”
“My dear, you are on her. She is not called Temeraire anymore, but this used to be her.”
The dragonet looked thoughtful, so Laurence allowed him a couple of minutes of pondering. He wondered if the dragonet would fall asleep again. He needed to go to the galley to ask the cooks to get some more food for the small dragonet, but he didn’t want to leave him without an explanation. If he woke up alone, Laurence had no idea what would happen.
Then, at last, the dragonet moved again. He looked up to Laurence and, with a resolute voice, said, “Hello, my name is Temeraire. If the Reliant is not using her name anymore, I get to keep it.”
Laurence let out a chuckle and petted the drag— Temeraire. “Very well, dear. Temeraire, you are. Now, would you like to accompany me to the galley? You will soon be too big to be inside, so you might want to take a tour before you have to stay on deck.”
Temeraire had two computer monitors in front of him. Miles, who Laurence had described as an ordinary seaman despite being quite extraordinary, had gotten them for him. Miles had given Temeraire a wink and said, “just don’t ask where I got them from.”
Laurence sighed when he saw them but hadn’t taken them away. Now, Temeraire was learning how to read. They didn’t have a dragon reading program on board, and there was no way to download one via the internet. Instead, Laurence hooked the monitors to his personal computer and used them to teach Temeraire each letter. Once he had gotten the hang of them, Temeraire had asked for stories to read.
Unfortunately, books were too small and fragile.
It was one of the students, Mister del Fuego, who had first offered him a small USB filled with short stories. “My sister is a writer,” he said, “and I promised her I would proofread her stories when I had free time.”
The next one to offer him something was Dr. Choi, who had given him a collection of PDFs with textbooks. “If anyone asks,” she said, “I downloaded them legally from the university library, and you are just borrowing them.”
Another student, Miss Smith, who had apparently been the one to build Laurence an egg carrier, made him a mechanism so he could control a mouse on his own. He couldn’t type, which was a shame, but at least he could choose what to read.
Once Dr. Choi had given him enough background in marine geology, all the other scientists decided to give him even more. He got some textbooks Dr. Choi hadn’t given him, an extensive collection of scientific papers and journals, and everyone’s dissertations.
He loved it a lot until he realized that his air sacks didn’t allow him to dive under the water for more than a dozen feet or so.
He had been sulking for almost an hour when Laurence took a break from his duties to check on him. “What is the issue, Temeraire?” he asked. By now, the dragon was definitely heavier than him and could do all of his fishing, but he was still not fully mature.
Temeraire looked at his computer set-up, where another paper on submarine geothermal vents lay open. “You told me,” he sulked, “that when I had hatched and fully grown, I could swim to the bottom of the ocean and help you with work. But I can’t. I can’t.”
“Ah, Temeraire, I said that as I was under the impression that you would be a sea serpent.”
“But I am not! And now I am useless, and you will leave me because there is nothing I can do on a ship.”
Laurence sighed and sat down next to Temeraire. “My dear, you may not be a sea serpent, but that does not make you useless. If you want to remain in the Reliant, there are many things you can do. You seem quite handy with that computer, so you could try to study to become our computer technician; Jamie has been talking about retiring soon. And you could help with the submarines or moving things around the deck.”
Temeraire remained silent, but he uncurled around himself and allowed his body to relax.
“You know,” Laurence added, “once we are on shore, we can look at your options. You do not have to spend the rest of your life here if you do not want to.” Temeraire snapped back into a ball, and Laurence quickly amended. “Not that I do not want you here. The forward deck has been empty for the last two years, and unless you plan to grow larger than four containers, you should be able to fit quite nicely there. And you can fish for yourself splendidly. So I see no issue with you staying here even if you do not want to work on the ship.”
Temeraire once again relaxed and murmured a soft “thank you.”
“It’s okay, dear. Now, why don’t you start to make a list of things you would need or want once we get to shore. You need at least a dragon keyboard. And your own computer.”
“Go wake up the captain,” Riley told one of the seamen. The seaman gave an ‘ay’ before she left.
When Laurence arrived, hurriedly dressed, Riley already had a coffee waiting for him. “Dragon in sight,” he said. “We’ve run the flags. It is an English courier from the Office of Draconic Affairs.”
“But we are still three days from port.”
Riley nodded. “Apparently, Cat told her superiors and managed to expedite Temeraire’s case. They really want to get Temeraire vaccinated as soon as possible.”
The courier was a greyling already smaller than Temeraire. A cute little thing, if little could be used to describe a being still larger than a horse. Volly, the courier, started chit-chatting with Temeraire, leaving Laurence to do the actual paperwork.
“Here’s his hatching certificate,” Captain James said with a smile, taking out the paperwork from his satchel. “Someone who was there during the hatching has to sign it, and then Temeraire—it’s Temeraire, right?—has to approve it. He is a bit too large for a claw signature now, but I have a dragon pen that might be large enough for him.”
Temeraire asked for some time to practice a nice signature, so they offered the captain and Volly some food while they waited.
“I don’t have the vaccines with me, but I can get a dragon nurse to wait for you in the port. I’ll need some weight approximations and measurements, but it shouldn’t be too bad. Do you know what breed he is?”
Laurence looked at Temeraire and his strange wings. He was different from every other dragon he had ever seen. “I thought some cross with a Fleur-de-Nuit, due to the coloration, but he cannot see in the dark at all.”
Captain James nodded. “If Temeraire doesn’t mind me taking some pictures, I can send them to the dragon office for some information.”
Temeraire didn’t mind.
Temeraire did mind. He was supposed to be extinct. They had been three days in port, his researchers had all said their goodbyes, and Laurence had managed to get him writing instruments (that pen had been so nice!) and a computer all for him when a variety of people from the Office of Draconic Affairs arrived.
There had been a lot of noise, a lot of official jargon, and way too many new dragons for Temeraire’s taste. His vaccines had left him slightly groggy, and he was not ready to meet so many new people. Laurence eventually got them all off the Reliant. He asked them to return later, as Temeraire was tired and “a growing dragonet needs rest.”
But they all had come the next day and had all repeated the same thing: Temeraire was supposed to be extinct. Also, according to one of the officials, in school.
While Laurence couldn’t do much about the first one, he enrolled Temeraire in an online school. Temeraire liked it; they had topics other than geology.
That afternoon, an extremely jetlagged official arrived. “He came all the way from China,” Laurence explained, “so we have to be polite.”
The official was not particularly polite. He told him that while the state recognized him as a Celestial, they did not recognize him as part of their government. Temeraire, who had just celebrated his one-month hatchday, was not entirely sure how to feel about foreign governments rejecting his non-existent job application.
He and Laurence were given Chinese nationality, which was nice. It was mostly an excuse for the officials to have their word that they accepted the current government as legitimate and would not organize a coup d’état. Not that Temeraire had been planning on one. But it was nice to know they would not need a visa if they wanted to visit China.
Two weeks after arriving in Southampton, getting vaccinated, trying beef for the first time (it was good), and getting rejected from joining the Chinese government, the Reliant was once again ready to sail.
They had a new group of researchers aboard (fewer students this time and primarily marine biologists). They also had a computer made for a dragon, loaded with educational packages, books, and games. And they had more food than usual, despite Temeraire promising to fish most of his food. One of the cooks bought a couple of draconic cookbooks and decided to try a few of the recipes.
They had also transformed the forward dock. Instead of having bits and bobs, they now had a cabin made especially for Temeraire. It looked more like a large shed than anything. Still, it was his. Laurence had even promised he could decorate it however he wanted, as long as it did not interfere with the ship’s movement and safety.
Temeraire hovered above the ship after having helped the scientists get their things aboard. He looked towards the sea, which would once again be his home for the next month and a half, and he couldn’t help but feel happy.
“Are you ready, my dear?” asked Laurence from the bridge.
“Yes.”