Once upon a time the world was tyrannized by a great dragon. The dragon stood taller than the largest cathedral, and was covered with thick black scales. Its red eyes glowed with hate, and from its terrible jaws flowed an incessant stream of evil-smelling yellowish slime. To satisfy its enormous appetite, ten thousand men and women had to be delivered every evening at the onset of dark to the foot of the mountain where it lived. The misery inflicted by the dragon-tyrant was incalculable. In addition to the ten thousand gruesomely slaughtered each day, there where the mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, children and friends who were left behind to grieve.
To fight the dragon, priests and magicians called down curses and spells, but to no avail. Warriors marched against it, armed with roaring courage and the best weapons the smiths could produce, only to be incinerated by its fire before coming close enough to strike. Seeing that defeating the tyrant was impossible, the people had no choice but to obey its commands and pay the grisly tribute. The fatalities selected were always elders. The thinking was that they had at least already enjoyed a few decades of life. But nobody could put off their turn indefinitely, not even the king.
Spiritual men sought to comfort those who were afraid of being eaten by the dragon by promising a dragon-free life after death. Others argued that the dragon had its place in the natural order and a moral right to be fed. They said that it was part of the very meaning of being human to end up in the dragon's stomach. Others maintained that the dragon was good for humanity because it kept the population size down. Most people tried to cope by not thinking about the grim end awaiting them.
This desperate state of affairs continued for many centuries. Expectations had gradually adjusted, and the dragon-tyrant had become a fact of life. Attempts to kill the dragon had ceased. Instead, efforts now focused on placating it. It was found that punctual delivery of the quota reduced the frequency of raids on the cities.
Over the centuries, being well fed, the dragon slowly but steadily grew bigger. Ten thousand bodies were no longer enough to fill its belly. It now demanded a hundred thousand, to be delivered to the foot of the mountain every dusk. To facilitate this process, the king had a railway constructed. Every ten minutes a train would arrive at the mountain terminal crammed with people, and would return empty.
Servants were employed by the king in large numbers to administer the tribute. There were registrars who kept track of whose turn it was to be sent, collectors who would be dispatched in special carts to fetch the designated, clerks who administered the pensions paid to families who were no longer able to support themselves, and comforters who would travel with the doomed, trying to ease their anguish with spirits and drugs. There was, moreover, a cadre of dracologists. Some conducted studies of the dragon's physiology or behavior, others collected samples - its shed scales, the slimy drool, its lost teeth, and its excrement, which was specked with fragments of human bone. To finance these activities, the king levied heavy taxes on his people. Dragon related expenditures, already accounting for one fifth of the economy, were growing even faster than the dragon itself. But the more the beast was understood, the more its invincibility was confirmed. In particular, its black scales were harder than any material known to man, and there seemed no way to make as much as a scratch in its armor.
Humanity is a curious species. Every once in a while somebody has a good idea. Over time, many wondrous tools and systems were developed. Some of those devices made it easier to generate and try out new ideas. In this way, the great wheel of invention gradually began to accelerate. One of the sages went so far as to predict that technology would eventually make it possible to build a contraption that could kill the dragon-tyrant.
The king's scholars, however, dismissed this idea. They said that history books recounted hundreds of failed attempts to kill the dragon. "We all know that this man had some irresponsible ideas," a scholar later wrote in his obituary of the reclusive sage, who by then been sent off to be devoured by the beast whose demise he had foretold.
Meanwhile, the wheel of invention kept turning. A few dracologists began arguing for a new attack on the dragon-tyrant. Killing it would not be easy, they said. But perhaps some material could now be invented that was harder than the dragon's armor, and fashioned into some kind of projectile. And after working on the problem for many years, someone demonstrated that a dragon scale could be pierced by an object made of a certain composite material. Engineers calculated that a huge missile made of it could penetrate the dragon's armor. However, the manufacture of the material would be expensive.
A group of several eminent engineers and dracologists sent a petition to the king asking for funding to build the anti-dragon missile. When the petition was sent, the king was preoccupied with a tiger which had killed a farmer and disappeared into the jungle. The king had the jungle surrounded and ordered his troops to slash their way through it, killing all it's 163 tigers. During the tumult, the petition had been forgotten.
The petitioners sent another appeal. This time they received a reply that the king would consider their request after he reviews the annual dragon-administration budget. When the budget was finally approved, however, reports came in that a village was suffering from a rattlesnake infestation. The king rode off to defeat this new threat, and the anti-dragonists' appeal was filed away in a dusty cabinet in the castle basement.
The anti-dragonists met to decide what was to be done, and they resolved to take the matter to the people. They traveled around the country and gave public lectures, explaining their proposal to anyone who would listen.
At first, people were skeptical. They had been taught that the dragon-tyrant was invincible and that the sacrifices it demanded were a fact of life. Yet when they learnt about the missile, many became excited. Citizens flocked to the anti-dragonist lectures.
When the king read about these meetings in the newspaper, he summoned his advisors. They told him that the anti-dragonists were troublemakers whose teachings were causing public unrest. It was much better for the social order, they said, that the people accepted the inevitability of the dragon tribute. The dragon-administration provided many jobs that would be lost if the dragon was slaughtered. In any case, the king's coffers were currently nearly empty after the two military campaigns and the funding set aside for a new dragon railway line. However, the king was worried that he might lose some of his popular support, and so decided to hold an open hearing.
To fight the dragon, priests and magicians called down curses and spells, but to no avail. Warriors marched against it, armed with roaring courage and the best weapons the smiths could produce, only to be incinerated by its fire before coming close enough to strike. Seeing that defeating the tyrant was impossible, the people had no choice but to obey its commands and pay the grisly tribute. The fatalities selected were always elders. The thinking was that they had at least already enjoyed a few decades of life. But nobody could put off their turn indefinitely, not even the king.
Spiritual men sought to comfort those who were afraid of being eaten by the dragon by promising a dragon-free life after death. Others argued that the dragon had its place in the natural order and a moral right to be fed. They said that it was part of the very meaning of being human to end up in the dragon's stomach. Others maintained that the dragon was good for humanity because it kept the population size down. Most people tried to cope by not thinking about the grim end awaiting them.
This desperate state of affairs continued for many centuries. Expectations had gradually adjusted, and the dragon-tyrant had become a fact of life. Attempts to kill the dragon had ceased. Instead, efforts now focused on placating it. It was found that punctual delivery of the quota reduced the frequency of raids on the cities.
Over the centuries, being well fed, the dragon slowly but steadily grew bigger. Ten thousand bodies were no longer enough to fill its belly. It now demanded a hundred thousand, to be delivered to the foot of the mountain every dusk. To facilitate this process, the king had a railway constructed. Every ten minutes a train would arrive at the mountain terminal crammed with people, and would return empty.
Servants were employed by the king in large numbers to administer the tribute. There were registrars who kept track of whose turn it was to be sent, collectors who would be dispatched in special carts to fetch the designated, clerks who administered the pensions paid to families who were no longer able to support themselves, and comforters who would travel with the doomed, trying to ease their anguish with spirits and drugs. There was, moreover, a cadre of dracologists. Some conducted studies of the dragon's physiology or behavior, others collected samples - its shed scales, the slimy drool, its lost teeth, and its excrement, which was specked with fragments of human bone. To finance these activities, the king levied heavy taxes on his people. Dragon related expenditures, already accounting for one fifth of the economy, were growing even faster than the dragon itself. But the more the beast was understood, the more its invincibility was confirmed. In particular, its black scales were harder than any material known to man, and there seemed no way to make as much as a scratch in its armor.
Humanity is a curious species. Every once in a while somebody has a good idea. Over time, many wondrous tools and systems were developed. Some of those devices made it easier to generate and try out new ideas. In this way, the great wheel of invention gradually began to accelerate. One of the sages went so far as to predict that technology would eventually make it possible to build a contraption that could kill the dragon-tyrant.
The king's scholars, however, dismissed this idea. They said that history books recounted hundreds of failed attempts to kill the dragon. "We all know that this man had some irresponsible ideas," a scholar later wrote in his obituary of the reclusive sage, who by then been sent off to be devoured by the beast whose demise he had foretold.
Meanwhile, the wheel of invention kept turning. A few dracologists began arguing for a new attack on the dragon-tyrant. Killing it would not be easy, they said. But perhaps some material could now be invented that was harder than the dragon's armor, and fashioned into some kind of projectile. And after working on the problem for many years, someone demonstrated that a dragon scale could be pierced by an object made of a certain composite material. Engineers calculated that a huge missile made of it could penetrate the dragon's armor. However, the manufacture of the material would be expensive.
A group of several eminent engineers and dracologists sent a petition to the king asking for funding to build the anti-dragon missile. When the petition was sent, the king was preoccupied with a tiger which had killed a farmer and disappeared into the jungle. The king had the jungle surrounded and ordered his troops to slash their way through it, killing all it's 163 tigers. During the tumult, the petition had been forgotten.
The petitioners sent another appeal. This time they received a reply that the king would consider their request after he reviews the annual dragon-administration budget. When the budget was finally approved, however, reports came in that a village was suffering from a rattlesnake infestation. The king rode off to defeat this new threat, and the anti-dragonists' appeal was filed away in a dusty cabinet in the castle basement.
The anti-dragonists met to decide what was to be done, and they resolved to take the matter to the people. They traveled around the country and gave public lectures, explaining their proposal to anyone who would listen.
At first, people were skeptical. They had been taught that the dragon-tyrant was invincible and that the sacrifices it demanded were a fact of life. Yet when they learnt about the missile, many became excited. Citizens flocked to the anti-dragonist lectures.
When the king read about these meetings in the newspaper, he summoned his advisors. They told him that the anti-dragonists were troublemakers whose teachings were causing public unrest. It was much better for the social order, they said, that the people accepted the inevitability of the dragon tribute. The dragon-administration provided many jobs that would be lost if the dragon was slaughtered. In any case, the king's coffers were currently nearly empty after the two military campaigns and the funding set aside for a new dragon railway line. However, the king was worried that he might lose some of his popular support, and so decided to hold an open hearing.
