Chapter 957 — The Factory

"Correct—the law holds true, at least for us dragons. Our reproductive capacity is poor, our gestation cycles long, and hatching difficult—but only under natural conditions," Metzen's lips curved upward. "And so, very, very long ago, we developed hatchery technology and the vast industry that accompanies it. We use biochemical techniques to harvest and catalyze 'green eggs,' biomass mother-factories to mass-produce blank dragon eggs, genetic engineering to edit the parental factors—or the factors of a single parent—and factories to hatch them in bulk... These technologies have been remarkably effective.

"Technology can change a great many things.

"Dragons struggle to reproduce, their numbers are few? That is merely another misconception. In fact, many, many millennia ago, we began actively controlling our own population—otherwise... how could a single Tarrande possibly hold such vast numbers of our kind?"

Metzen spoke on, unhurried, and Gaoyang's jaw slowly dropped.

At last these things surpassed his imagination.

The image in his mind of that mysterious, ancient "dragon race" standing at the pinnacle of the magical and fantastical world had already cracked several times over the course of this single day—and now at last it split apart, collapsing into cold, scattered wreckage.

Yet he suspected that wreckage was far from reaching the limit of its disintegration; it would go on collapsing and crumbling, until he could fully see this true "Tarrande," this "Eternal Cradle" beneath the gods' protection.

And beside him, Metzen was still explaining:

"Deeper beneath our feet lie the hatchery's sorting center and preprocessing center—the eggs shipped in from the 'mother-factories' are sorted and culled there. Defective eggs are destroyed; only healthy eggs with potential are sent to the life-stasis workshop, where their development is temporarily halted, until a dragon holding a hatching permit arrives and claims one...

"The one who claims an egg may be a pair of parents, or a single father or mother. He, or she, or they must apply and prepare in advance. Beyond a mountain of forms and a lengthy review period, the claimant must also submit a sample of their own genetic factors, which are injected into a blank egg to synthesize an embryo and become his, her, or their true 'child.' The synthesized embryo is then sent here... to this hatching workshop.

"The machines care for these little ones still inside their shells. The hatching pods are as safe and warm as the nests that dragon parents of ancient times so carefully wrought. Most of the work here is handled by machines, with Omega as the overseer—which is why we saw only a handful of 'staff' on our way in. Those 'staff' have only two main duties: monitoring the machines' condition, and receiving the 'new parents' who come to claim their eggs.

"It is dull work with little technical content, yet it is also one of the few genuine job positions in Tarrande. To secure a post in the hatchery is equivalent to entering 'upper Tarrande.'"

Gaoyang listened quietly to Metzen's explanations—and just then, a hatching unit nearby suddenly began to hum, its lights flickering.

Many of the probes patrolling nearby immediately converged on it, and some mechanical arms moving along slide rails came to the corresponding unit. Gaoyang was about to ask what was happening when Metzen, already walking toward it, explained of her own accord: "Come quickly! It's hatching! We've arrived just in time to see a little one hatch!"

Hearing this, Gaoyang quickened his pace, and he, Amber, and Virodai hurried to the unit emitting sound and light. Almost the moment they arrived, the dragon egg lying quietly in its polymer "greenhouse" began to rock slightly.

Under the unblinking gaze of Gaoyang and the others, a crack suddenly split the egg's surface, and the fissure rapidly widened as fragments of shell fell away—the hatchling was stronger than Gaoyang had imagined, and the entire process of breaking free took almost no time at all. Within mere seconds the seemingly sturdy shell had burst completely open, and a dusty, unremarkable "little" creature stumbled and tumbled out.

It was a young dragon, not yet even scaled, its species impossible to tell, its sex impossible to distinguish. By Gaoyang's estimation, the hatchling was even a little... ugly, like an enormous featherless turkey—yet in the eyes of dragons, the little one was presumably quite adorable, for Metzen and Noretta beside him clearly had their eyes shining, watching the newly hatched dragonet with delighted smiles.

Amber was astonished all over again. She let out a "wow," and had just been about to ask something when the hatching pod suddenly stirred with fresh activity: numerous tiny mechanical arms extended into the chamber from above and below, seizing the newly hatched dragonet with extraordinary agility and speed. The little creature had barely begun to struggle before it went still, as though swiftly anesthetized by something.

Then Gaoyang saw the mechanical arms begin to move with astonishing speed. They seemed to open a small incision at the base of the hatchling's skull, where the spine connected, and into it they inserted something faintly luminous, no larger than the tip of a human finger. Several more arms then moved in and injected the hatchling with something—perhaps the "enhancers" Metzen was always talking about. When the injections were done, other devices entered the chamber, collected flakes of the hatchling's skin and samples of its blood, and carried out a rapid scan...

All of it was dazzlingly fast.

Before Gaoyang could even react, it was over. He blinked, and then heard a mechanical, synthesized voice begin broadcasting—he could not understand a word of it, but soon he heard Metzen murmuring at his side.

She was quietly translating the broadcast coming from the factory:

"Hatchling No. 1335, healthy. Intellectual potential: average. Projected compatible implants: X, S, EN, and general-purpose implants. No posts currently available for assignment. Recommendation—ordinary citizen of the Lower City."

The mechanical arms and probe heads withdrew.

The hatchling in the incubation sac awoke.

It opened its eyes with curiosity, as if marveling at the world around it. Working its wings together with its clumsy little limbs, it clambered unsteadily to its feet—and then at last it noticed the figures standing outside.

The little creature let out a chirp of delight.