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Chapter 1  

            “Why are you so stubborn, Jeff?  You don’t always have to say the last word,” retorted Laurence, “ or do you?”

            Laurence and Jeffrey, both underwater archaeologists, constantly disagreed with each other.  They collaborated only because their professor had assigned them to work as laboratory partners.  Their appeals for new partners had been in vain because their professor had refractorily refused.  Currently, they had cooperated for five consecutive years at the university.

            This time, Jeff, thirty years old—a year older than Laur—ignored him.  Jeff had contemplated a lot these few weeks and had concluded it was pointless to argue over trivial matters.  Thus, he just sighed and continued with his work.

            “Ha!” Laur exclaimed.  “I got the last word!”

            “Come on.  Let’s test the submarine,” Jeff suddenly suggested.

            “You’re too ambitious and obnoxious, Jeff.  Didn’t Professor Chentar mention to you that it wasn’t ready yet?”

            “Who cares?  If they’ve delivered it here, it’s okay.  If you won’t go, I’ll go, alone,” asserted Jeff, stung by Laur’s remark.

            “Okay, okay.  We’ll go next week.”

            “Yeah!  Okay, I’ll be doing the preparations!”  With that, Jeff stepped out of the chamber. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

            “Son, Son, Son.  How many times have I told you not to go outside at night?  You’re grounded for a century,” declared Leonard.

            “But Father, don’t you realize how fun it is outside?  I want to go out!” whined Gentar.

            “No back talk.  Into your cave.  Now!”

            Len then went inside for dinner.  The time was now 102, and was becoming monotonous as the year wore on.

            Since Gen was grounded, he could not eat dinner.  However Albert, his brother, did, and at the table, Al tried to utter a few noble words for Gen, but Len immediately ordered him to keep quiet.  All night long, therefore, Gen was unable to eat anything.

            The following day, Len exercised his fire-breathing.  Fire-breathing, like juggling, was an art, so only certain drags could perform it.  He practiced especially arduously this morning after hearing that profligate wizards and witches might reappear soon.

            Len had won every match against these demons during his 40 thousand years of living.  During the previous war, approximately 20 thousand years ago, he had successfully led a group of drags to rout the enemy.

            Their population in Dragland was enormous, having ten billion drags.  The high birth rate—drags had one hundred babies during their lifetime—contributed to this.  Merely three of Len’s children, however, lived with him now, while his 97 other children had grown up and moved elsewhere.

            After Len had terminated his fire-breathing, he proceeded to his job, organizing for Dragland.  In his one-square mile work room, he, like a clerk, sorted out documents.  It was gruelling work:  he organized scrolls of articles and then deposited them into bottles.

            Everyone had to comply to his instructions, but his admirable, exemplary manners endeared him to all.  Serving as coordinator was an exacting position, though.  He had to glide from end to end to keep the edifice operational.

            Of course, he also had assistance.  A total of ten drags in the construction communicated with each other through pipes.  Pipes, all connected to each other, ran to each room and went past every corner of the building.  One simply spoke into the holes and everyone else would hear the news.  If the message was longer, one sent the scrolls and bottles along pipes.

            Len was irritated this morning because his fire-breathing progressed erratically.  Whenever he felt foul, he usually squatted in a corner and sulked.  Today, however, he screamed at, shoved, and growled at anyone who interfered with him.  Len’s behaviour truly petrified Clordel, his best pal, because Len had never acted this way before.

            After five hours since Len had commenced work, Al abruptly appeared, yelling, “The wicks are here!  The wicks are here!”  Directly to his father he exclaimed, “The wicks are here, Father!”

            Len, hearing the egregious news, rushed to the nearest rift and announced, “The day has come, fellow drags.”

            Everyone inhaled, their faces turning blue.  This was the most horrifying event since the advent of the previous group of wicks.

            The bunch of wicks who had come eons ago were an indescribable colour, one unknown to humans because of its gruesomeness.  The average hume would die upon looking at that colour, but drags could withstand it.

            Currently, everybody exhales from holding their breaths.  Some choked and coughed.  Bravely, Len stepped to the door and waited for his devotees to follow, but no one dared to stir.  Instead, the scaled cowards fled back home to warn their families.  Only Al supported Len.  As smoke was expelled from his nostrils, Len shouted with rage to unleash his fury.

            Al feared that Len would explode at any minute, so he said, “Father, we don’t need them.  We can do it ourselves.  Let’s go!”

            “Al, the last time we fought them, half the population of Dragland helped.  We only have two drags now.  Besides, I don’t want to endanger your life.  Just go home.  If you disobey my instructions, you’ll be grounded for a century, like Gentar.  I’ve no time to squander now.”  With that, Len flew outside.

            Al clandestinely followed, disobeying Len’s command.  Always remaining alert, he flew discreetly behind Len.  Len, though, had forgotten to verify if anyone followed because he was in a violent mood, ready to discharge fire at any instant.

            When Len reached the reported site, he saw it was not a wick, but a vehicle on the verge of falling into the core of the Earth; so using his remaining energy, he thrust himself forward and tried to prevent the vehicle from falling into the heat.  He barely succeeded, catching the vehicle at the last second.  In fact, he, too, looked as if he was going to plummet in at any moment, so Al, disobeying orders, helped relive Len of some pressure.

            Al succeeded; he had grown brawnier and mightier over the last few decades.  He lifted the whole vehicle by himself and then flew to his cave’s front door, where he dropped it.  Ashamed of himself for having been unable to carry it, Len followed closely behind.

            Al realized their cave was shut when he got there, so Len called his wife Jennifer, to open it.  Afterwards, Al instinctively released and tossed the vehicle into the dark cave.

            Jen was startled.  “What is the meaning of this?”  She demanded.

            “We don’t know what it is, but it might be dangerous, so don’t be so close to it,” admonished Al.

            “Thanks for you help.  I couldn’t have done it without you, Al.  Oh, look!  Everybody, keep your distance.  Something’s coming out.  I’ll get ready to shoot fire.”

            Unexpectedly, Julie (Gen and Al’s baby sister—four thousand years old) appeared out of nowhere.  She flew to the vehicle and climbed atop of it.  Al, seeing this, promptly flew to the vehicle, but when he got there, the door popped open, slapping Al’s nostrils and long mouth.

            “Ah!” gasped Len and Jen.

        Al had completely blacked out.  Len and Jen each hastened to a drag:  Jen to Al, Len to Ju.  Jen carried Al to where the drags healed, the Peace Chamber, which was in their domicile.  Then, she returned to Len.  The vehicle’s door had already opened, but Ju was safe in Len’s claws.  Nothing had egressed yet.  Len was now alert, ready to breathe fire any second.

            Abruptly, out popped a hume head.  Len recognized it because he had once befriended a hume, even learning their language.  Unluckily, that hume had died from Dragland’s heat, so Len had to throw his corpse into the fire upon his demise.

            Currently, this particular hume said, “Laur, the atmosphere here is hot.”  When he spotted Len, he, as quickly as a rabbit, ducked inside.

            Len abjured everyone to remain phlegmatic, and then said, “Don’t be afraid.  We won’t hurt you.  We’ve seen humes before.”  (Drags loved to abbreviate things, especially their own names.)

            Inside the conveyance, a submarine, Jeff said, “They can even speak.  What a discovery!”  Jeff and Laur had been instructed just to investigate a trench in the ocean, but had never anticipated such a discovery.

            Aversely, Laur replied, “Let’s go out and see.”

            The two humes filed out of the sub.  They soon realized they were peas compared to the drags.  Len began the conversation.  “I’m Len.  She’s Jen and she’s Ju.”

            Ju staggered towards the humes.  Jen comported distraughtly, but Len shook his head.

            Jeff’s heart beat non-stop as Ju neared.  He was surprised when he saw the lizard (Ju) pick him up and put him on her shoulders.  Len soon took charge and set the humes on his shoulders; Len was ten times the height of Ju, so Jeff panicked even more.

            Len then invited Jeff and Laur to stay.  After some hesitation, they agreed.

            Jeff, an easygoing type of person, soon got acquainted with the drags after a month.  Laur, on the other hand, behaved retiringly in new surroundings.  Jeff and Laur had survived the month due to the cool temperature inside the sub.  They could only stay outside for about fifteen minutes.  Then, they had to return to the sub.

            None of the drags’ food appealed to them, so they ate what they had brought:  chickens, pigs, cows, goats, and various other livestock.  They had also brought plants so that they could consume fresh fruits and vegetables if they cared for them.  Their supplied could probably last them for decades because the animals, just as when being on the surface of the Earth, could continually reproduce.

            Jeff kept each disparate kind of supply in a certain area.  The sub was huge, so it was negligible even if each item occupied much space.

            The extra playmates delighted Ju.  Jeff spent some time playing with her each day.  Laur, though, disliked young, unfledged creatures.  Besides, he despised being outside the sub, so he remained in the sub almost the entire day everyday.

            Currently, Jeff flew back and forth.  Len had presented Jeff with a pair of official flappers (wings) so that Jeff could fly.  They were easy to operate.  After attaching them to one’s arms, one’s arms simply had to flap up and down.  In order to be fair, Laur, too, had received a pair although he rarely left of the sub.

            As he flew, Jeff thought of a verse his fifth grade teacher, Mr. Wallace, had taught him.  Unexpectedly, he blurted out, “Once, just once, will I see you here…”

            At that instant, Len, back from work, quickly added, “During that time, don’t hide or fear!”

            “Hullo, Len.  How did you know that verse?”

            “Actually, I had learnt it from Professor Wallace.”

            “You mean you know Mr. Wallace?  He was my fifth grade teacher.  He taught me it too.  You mean he discovered this place too?”

            “Yes, he did,  But he wasn’t as equipped as you guys are.  He died within a couple of days upon arriving.”

            “Oh, that’s too bad.  I lost contact with him around ten years ago.  Might have known he was up to this stuff.  Anyways, I’ve been always wanting to ask you, how do you survive, and why do you live so long?”

            “Well, it’s a long story.  First, you need to go back to the rudimentary stage of the Earth’s formation.  At that time, fire blazed in the core of the Earth, and some particles imperceptibly formed around the fire, and were shaped into drags who could walk and fly.  The drags got out of the layer and made a home out of Dragland.  Some fire, however, still remained in the Earth’s core.”

            “Soon, this wispy layer of dust formed the ground, but we can’t walk on it because we’re too cumbersome.  You see, the layer is slim, but it’s hard to cleave your way back up once you’ve fallen through it.  The layer is also haggard enough to burn your feet.  So, that’s why outside, we have to fly all the time.  We can, however, build our astronomical cave on the veneer because the cave is slightly floating.  It’s no actually touching the tenuous stratum.”

            “We, too, still have fire in us and it’s gradually searing our body.  But is burns so slowly that it takes around 80 thousand years for it to completely incinerate the whole body.”

            “This is also what’s happening to the layer.  Soon, the fire will perforate it too.  After millions of years, the layer has stopped forming and the process has been reversed---that is, the layer is deteriorating.  We live in an era when everyone needs to fear.”

            “Okay, so I guess your curiosity has been satiated for now.  Come on, let’s go and eat lunch.”

            Jeff doggedly followed Len to the refectory, where everyone in Len’s household, even Laur, awaited them.  Five unfamiliar faces sat at the end of the table.  In addition, Gen, who had previously been grounded, also attended the meal.  Jeff wondered if some newsworthy event had happened.

            When Jeff and Len were finally seated, Len announced, “We have a serious problem at state.”  As food was served, Len roared over the cluttering and clattering.  “I’m positive about it.  The wicks are here.”

            Everyone froze.  Even the workers stopped in the midst of their tracks.  One audacious worker asked, “The wicks?”

            “Yes,” replied Len, in an equable, steady voice.  Len was not reputed for his aplomb, though.  He was generally a nervous drag.  Actually he was perhaps the tensest drag in Dragland, but was expressionless now.

            Soon, the workers resumed taking out the dishes.  During the middles of the meal, Len brusquely looked up and asseverated, “Yes, ‘n we need a witty, well-planned strategy.”

            “What do you suggest?” asked Bernice, Len’s fourth youngest daughter.  She had recently married and had moved to the other end of town, which was far from Len’s home because Dragland was a vast expanse.  Only after Jen had persuaded her, did she return.

            “We have 11 living creatures who are eating at this collation.  Jen and Bern won’t fight.  I have a great idea for the remaining nine in this room.  We’ll plan an ambush.  The wicks themselves have planned to waylay us three months from now.  I think, however, I can outwit them.”  Whispering, Len shared his strategy.

            “I’m not sure,” squeaked Laur at the end of the table.  “Anyways, excuse me, I must go in now; or else, I’ll boil.”

            Jeff excused himself too and followed Laur.

            After the humes had departed, Gen asked, with a twinkle of hope, “Dose that mean I’m not grounded, Father?”

            “Don’t be too sure about that.  Don’t be too sure…” said Len.   

* * * * * * * * * * 

Laur awoke from a restless night of sleep.  Last night outside the sub, the drags had gathered together for another meeting.  A tremendous amount of chatting had emerged.  Laur could fall asleep only after the drags had disbanded—four hours after hopping into bed.  Currently, Laur’s thoughts were disturbed as Gen’s head peered in.

            “Do you want to come out here to have a talk with me?” asked Gen in an awesome whisper.

            “But—“ Laur mildly protested.

            “Please?” interrupted Gen.

            Laur, in a disinclined manner, tiptoed outside, for he dreaded to go out into the open atmosphere so early in the morning.  Gen then revealed a deep secret to him.

            “20 thousand years ago, when Len fought the wicks, he had caught a serious damage to his visceral organs.  The best specialist in Dragland had cured him, but now, the experienced doctor has died himself.  Len has now caught the frightening damage again and has a slim chance of surviving.  Do you have any ideas what to do?  The wicks will come in three and a half months, and we won’t have any leadership if Len’s sick.”

            “Bring me to your father, please,” requested Laur.  “I’ll see what I can do,” requested Laur.

            “Of course.”

            Len’s condition shocked Laur.  Len had shrunken to a size only slightly more massive than Ju.  Laur feared to approach Len, but Len said imperturbably, “Don’t worry.  I’m myself, except that my appearance is different.”  After another glance, Laur decided Len’s voice had unaltered; patently, then it was still Len who lay there. 

            Suddenly, Laur, generally a dull scientist, intrepidly advanced toward Len and made observations like a true scientist.  “Actually, you’re right.  It’s not that serious.  I think this just might be fun.  I’ll work on it like an experiment and make observations everyday.”

            “I think Len has had excessive strain and worry.  The rest will do him well.  I think he should appoint someone as the leader while he’s in this condition.”  After the brief speech, Laur felt exceedingly confident of himself from capturing everyone's undivided attention.

            Len replied, “Laur has put forth a savoury proposal.  I’ll suggest Al to act as the official leader, while Jen and Bern will act as his assistants.”

As soon as Len had made the announcement, Gen hurriedly eluded the crowd, but Laur noticed and followed Gen.  Breathlessly catching up to him, Laur—teemed with concern—suggested, “Cheer up, fellah, okay?”

            Gen sighed, but was speechless.

            “you think a lot, don’t you?”  Laur had recalled the “yes-yes” response.  He believed it would be effective in such a situation.

            “Yes, I do,” replied Gen.

            “At least you’re not grounded now, right?”

            “True.”

            “Then why don’t you think positively for a while?  It’ll do you good.”  Laur paused, looking thoughtful.  “I’ve got faith in you.  Yes, I do.”  Then Laur abandoned Gen, hoping Gen would ponder more.  Yet, Gen’s ambivalence befuddled him.  Memories of his childhood with Al raced through his mind.  Their childhood had been blissful, but Gen now envied him.

            Len had once told Gen the denotation of jealousy as he regarded it:  Len categorized happiness, dolorousness, and a gamut of other sentiments all under jealousy.  If green represented jealousy, looking into a mirror would reflect mostly green and some other randomly-scattered nuances.  Gen felt he corresponded to the other feelings, which diverged in different directions.  The thought depressed him.

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