The Best Laid Schemes of Dryads and Frogs

By Nathan Veyon

“Sal, where are we going?” Jane ducked under a branch.

“My cousin Fragar’s lab.” Sal forged down what appeared to be no more than a deer trail.

Jane avoided dew-soaked vines sparkling in the sun. “The third cousin Fragar?”

“Yeah.”

“The crazy, mad scientist, turns-perfectly-good-strawberries-blue one?”

Sal laughed. “That one”

“Sal, why are we going to the mad scientist’s lair?”

“Ah, be nice; he isn’t crazy, just… eccentric. He’s created something he wants to show me.”

“Wait, I didn’t need to come?” Jane paused mid-stride, contemplating the distance to the car.

Sal grabbed her arm. “Come on, we’re here.”

Jane looked around a grassy clearing. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s underground. We dryads like our soil.” He pulled on a hatch hidden by moss.

Jane followed him down the completely-not-ominous entrance to the lair of this Dr. Frankenstein of plants. A ladder led down to a narrow hallway.

Sal stopped suddenly. “Fragar?”

Jane squeezed up beside him. She caught her breath and kept her voice low. “Sal, I thought that the dryad thing was not so literal. Your cousin… He’s green.”

“You’re green, Fragar.” Sal’s voice was flat. “Why are you green?”

Fragar stood in a white lab coat, his skin and hair covered in verdant splotches. He grinned, awkwardly avoiding the question. “Hi, Cuz. Glad you could make it.” He offered his hand but looked down at the unsightly blotchiness and let his arm drop. “I see you brought Jane. It’s so nice to meet you. Hopefully you’re keeping Sal out of trouble.”

Jane nodded. “Mostly, but speaking of trouble, do you need help?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” Fragar rubbed absently at a green patch on his jaw. “Here’s what I wanted to show you.” He led them to a terrarium.

Sal glanced in. “All I see are mossy rocks.”

“I know, isn’t it beautiful?” Fragar gushed.

Jane hunkered down to get a better look. “I don’t get it. Unless you think plants are beautiful.”

Both dryads turned to her.

Jane blushed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant there isn’t much else here.”

Fragar grinned and rapped on the glass.

One of the “rocks” jumped straight at Jane. She yelped and stared at the underside of a frog perched on the terrarium’s wall.

Sal chuckled. “Cool frogs, Fragar. Did you make them look like that?”

“No, I imported them from East Asia. I thought I could give them something extra.”

Sal’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, extra?”

“They look like plants so I tried splicing plant DNA, but that didn’t work.” Fragar adjusted a microscope.

“And?” Jane prompted.

“Well, wilderkind have unique properties when it comes to merging life forms. Dryads are actually part plant in some ways…”

Sal banged on a table. “Fragar! What did you do?”

Fragar grimaced. “I used wilderkind traits on the frogs.”

Jane gasped. “The Bureau is going to have a fit over this.”

“Forget the Bureau, the Aethers are going to leave you on a deserted island for the next century as an actual tree!” Sal’s fists clenched.

Fragar moaned. “I know, and it will be one of those scraggly pines, too. But you can help,” he pleaded. “I can reverse the process, and it’ll be fine.”

“How?” Sal stopped pacing.

“You hold the frogs while I inject them with a genome editor. It’s quite easy to target wilderkind traits…”

“Fragar.” Sal growled. “It shouldn’t be easy; you shouldn’t be messing with it at all.” He sighed. “Whatever, let’s get it over with.”

Fragar grabbed a large pair of gloves. “You’ll need these.”

Sal gave the gloves a dubious look before putting them on.

Fragar retrieved a small syringe. “Okay, reach in and grab one.”

“One? How many are there?” Jane checked the terrarium.

“Three,” Fragar replied.

Sal slid his hand under the lid and reached for the frog on the wall. As he grabbed, the frog leapt into his hand. Sal jerked, jostling the lid. Immediately the other two hopped for the opening and jumped for Sal’s unruly hair. Sal bellowed and swiped at his head. The two made tremendous leaps and landed on the ceiling. The first frog casually crawled out of Sal’s hand and hurdled straight for Jane’s face. She shrieked and batted it aside.

Fragar ran about madly, swatting at the ceiling with a broom, but the frogs easily evaded him.

Fragar panted. “Sal, why did you let them out? “

“Me? Why didn’t you tell me they were escape artists?”

Jane heard a soft chirp to her right, but nothing was there. She looked around. To her left the frog was crawling away. She pounced and managed to snag it. “I caught one, but I’m hearing things.”

Fragar waved a hand. “You aren’t. They can throw their voices.” He glanced at Sal, who glared. “They came that way, but they seem to have developed the ability to coordinate.”

Jane felt the frog’s chest swelling as it gave a gentle coo. The frogs on the ceiling turned simultaneously. Large dark eyes locked onto her as they marched ominously across the ceiling.

“No, you don’t!” Sal moved faster than seemed possible. He jumped and swiped one frog off the ceiling, pivoted, leapt, and grabbed the other. “Fragar, close your mouth and get that syringe.”

Fragar jerked. “Of course. Hold them still.” He deftly avoided Sal’s glowering and injected both frogs. “They should be fine by tomorrow,” he said as he finished with Jane’s.

They placed them back in the terrarium. Jane glanced down. A green splotch was spreading on her hand. “Fragar, what is this?”

“Oh, that’s the chlorophyll ability I gave the frogs,” Fragar said proudly. “Unfortunately, it was a little strong and attached itself to any living tissue the frogs touched. Don’t worry; it should fade in about two weeks.”

“Weeks?” Jane squeaked. She glanced at Sal and winced.

Sal’s eyes widened. “What is it?”

Jane grimaced and pointed at a large green patch forming in his hair.

Sal’s face turned crimson. “Fragar!”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Nathan Veyon grew up reading Tolkien and Lewis. This developed into a lifelong love of science fiction and fantasy. He enjoys computers and science which he also currently teaches. In his spare time he also enjoys working on developing multiple worlds that are slowly being turned into actual books.

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