Tuesday Kuykendall

There’s No Such Thing As Humans

In November (2025) I participated in a writing challenge called “Novel November.” I wrote the first draft of a science fantasy novel about multiple universes, spies, dragons, and how no matter how old you get, you can still discover wonder in the universe. Below is my first chapter–for now. It’s a first draft so lots of things are likely to change. I hope you enjoy it.

Prologue

To: His Excellency Dr. Arr-Dor, Council Director, Chemistry Department Chair, and Honorable Chair of the University Regents

From: Ms. Jyhx, from House of Ter. Year Four Physics Graduate Student.

Subject: Final Report: Behavioral Evaluation for Eir from House of Jin, Fourth Year Undergraduate.

Dear Dr. Arr-Dor,

Below please find my final report on Eir-Jin’s progress over his one year of probation. As you instructed, for the record, I have included a summary of his previous offenses.

The first occurred during the beginning of Eirjin’s third year. After his chemistry class was over, Eirjin, against the rules, returned alone to the lab, claiming he forgot his notebook. He failed to properly manage his tail and on his way out he swept an open bottle of acid onto the new and expensive phenolic countertop, creating an irreparable hole and endangering the health of the evening janitorial staff. I noted when I read his file that he complained it wasn’t his fault because a classmate had left it open, indicating, in my opinion, a lack of accountability.

The second occurred near the end of his third year. Eirjin was assigned to assist his older sister, Wyruk-Jin, the Materials lab manager. He mistakenly placed an aluminum block in the muffle furnace to act as a stand for a steel part he was supposed to anneal. He ramped the furnace ten degrees below the melting point of steel, which, as you know, is over 800 degrees higher than the melting temperature of aluminum. Consequently, the block melted, and a fire started inside the furnace, destroying it. If his lab mate, his cousin, Zy-jin, hadn’t noticed the smoke and molten metal seeping from the edges of the furnace door, the building could have burned down.

As both offenses damaged property and threatened harm to personnel, Eir-Jin was placed on academic probation for one year with the threat of expulsion if another incident occurred. Because Dr. Laldor needed another assistant and he could not find a volunteer, he requested one be assigned, and the council in its wisdom determined Eir-Jin would be the best fit. During the past year, Eir-Jin has worked under my supervision. The first few months were challenging for me, as you know.

Eir-Jin has low spatial awareness and often carelessly knocks over loose items throughout the lab. In his first month, he knocked my prized vase with a new flower arrangement to the ground, breaking the vase.

Another time he let his tail down, an inappropriate and unprofessional posture, and during a turn, he pushed a vacuum pump out of its casing and disconnected it. We returned the machine and ramped it back up before any damage occurred to our experiment.

He cut tool shapes into the pink foam I was planning to use for my electrostatic demonstration in class, and he dropped a small screw from a meter he was repairing down under the baseboard of one of our magnets. It didn’t cause damage because he caught it in time; the only reason I am aware of that instance is because I was standing right behind him.

I noted every mishap as you instructed (list attached), but none of them rose to the level of damage or harm. After the incident with the screw, Eir-Jin showed more care in his activities and occasionally was helpful to me.

Dr. Laldor went beyond what I would consider necessary to help him. He placed mirrors in several locations so that Eir-Jin could see behind him, and he gave him simple tasks. When he demonstrated competence in those, he gave him more complex duties. Dr. Laldor insists it’s because he’s so much younger, but I pointed out that he is a prodigy and should be smart enough to know better.

Eirjin still has a lot to learn, but he has gained more self-control and has not committed any offenses that rise to the level of his first two. Therefore, I do not object to his probation being lifted and his admission into our physics program. I recommend he continue to be monitored.

Sincerely,

Ms. Jyhx-Ter, Fourth-Year Physics Graduate

Chapter One

Eirjin stood in the center of the tiny room, doing his best not to fidget; he concentrated on taking deep, slow breaths and kept his forward digits intertwined and behind his back to keep from clicking his claws together, a nervous habit he never could overcome. The five council members scrutinized him from their perches in silence. He struggled to look simultaneously innocent, confident, serious, and humble; a singular challenge in this punishing space; a claustrophobic room meant to intimidate errant students.

It had been a year since he last stood here, and he’d kept from breaking anything or causing any disasters ever since.

The council insisted on reviewing the last time he stood before them before they would tell him his fate.

The clerk read out the offenses while Eirjin tried to appear attentive, then paused.

“Do the council members have any offenses to add?”

“No, please continue,” said the director.

Eirjin sighed with relief. He knew Jyhxter wrote everything he did down in her journal, no matter how insignificant.

“The council has reviewed the final report from Ms. Jyhxter and has made their decision.”

Dr. Laldor had assured him he was off probation and would be advanced today, but the clerk wore the same sour expression as last time.

“Based on Dr. Laldor’s recommendation and because no new disasters occurred, Ms. Jyhxter has declined to oppose Eirjin’s inclusion in their lab or his admission into the physics graduate program. She cautions that he is still the youngest student in the program and that she recommends he continue to be monitored.”

The clerk slammed shut the investigation volume with a crack that echoed up to the tall, ancient ceiling and back again, and stepped back into the shadows.

“Young Eir-House of Jin, you have anything to add?” The old council chairman scrutinized Eirjin behind large, thick glasses, chin feathers twitching.

Eirjin tried to smile and shrug. “I’m eternally grateful to you and Dr. Laldor and Ms. Jyhxter for this chance and will continue to improve.” He shrugged again. What did they want him to say? No, thank you?”

He could feel the involuntary twitching of his claws.

“Very well. You will be admitted into the graduate program. But your record will stand. One more mistake, and you will be placed on academic leave and sent back to complete the primary studies you skipped. Your mother might be on the board of regents, but even she can’t bend the rules enough to ignore a third offense.

Eirjin nodded and did his best to look sufficiently contrite and hide his relief. Going back to primary school would be mortifying. He would end up being the oldest instead of the youngest in the class; derided as slow.

The clerk craned his neck toward Eirjin so that only his face showed in the low light, and Eirjin almost shuddered. “You’re dismissed.”

Eirjin curled his tail tight under his back legs; a humiliating stance to be sure, but he had to maneuver without showing the council his bum. It meant he had to back out the door, blind. The Apex of Arrogance (number six of the eleven deadly sins) would be to back out with a raised tail, and he couldn’t leave it hanging down because it would hit something.

He lowered his head respectfully, did his best to fold in all four panels of his wings, and backed slowly out the door. His left wing refused to lie flat, and the second left hook above the wing snagged on the hinge as he passed, and his eyes watered as he pulled it free, ripping it out partway. He did his best not to cry out, but a couple of whispered grunts escaped.

At last, he was through the door. He closed it gently and plopped down, his chin on the floor, and closed his eyes for a count of ten. That was the third hook he’d lost today. He blocked out the throbbing. All he needed was to stub one more, and all four of them would be wounded. He wouldn’t hurt himself on purpose, of course, but he appreciated the symmetry. His stomach turned as he realized with stark clarity how close he had come to being kicked out of the science program; but he’d survived.

The floor vibrated with the stomping of a large group of students coming toward him. Classes were out for the day. He pulled himself together, stood tall, his tail straight up, wings back, head held high, and trotted down the hall in the opposite direction.

He pushed open the double doors and scampered on all four limbs down the steps, two at a time; the university didn’t allow flying this close to Knowledge Hall. With each step away from the building, his stress faded and his excitement grew. He considered flying straight to the cafeteria; being brought before the council was taxing, no matter the reason, and he was hungry, but food would have to wait. He promised Dr. Laldor he would meet him back at the lab as soon as the review was over. He cleared the restricted airspace and launched himself up and over the trees and into the slow lane.

The physics labs were all in the basement of the General Sciences Building, across campus from the Administration Building. It had the least amount of electromagnetic interference and acoustic vibrations. The concrete walls were reinforced with copper and steel, and the walls around Dr. Laldor’s lab had been specially fitted with additional shielding—it was the newest and most modern laboratory on campus.

Dr. Laldor was the first professor to take Eirjin seriously and help him navigate the cavernous laboratory spaces. Even the curt Ms. Jyhxter, Dr. Laldor’s graduate student assistant, helped once she overcame her distaste at one so young allowed to work next to her.

At last, today was the day. Today he would be allowed to set up the newest beam-line operations under supervision. And more importantly, today he would be presented with his own key to the lab. A year of following Ms. Jyhxter’s curt instructions to the letter, a year of collecting and putting away claw tools, a year of cleaning out vacuum chambers and replacing oil, a year of hard study to understand particle beam physics. He stood outside the wide lab doors and knocked gently. There was no answer, and Eirjin was about to sit down to wait when a large gray-blue dragon came around the corner and ambled down the hall towards him. He jumped up with a wide grin.

“Hello Dr. Laldor.”

“Hello, hello, Eirjin. Sorry to be late. It’s the big day, you must be excited.” The old physicist was short of breath, and little puffs of smoke escaped his left nostril. He fumbled with the large ring of keys around his wide middle, and after the fourth try, the door opened to the bright, wide space filled wall-to-wall with shiny instrumentation; monitors with red, green, and blue digital numbers blinked; tools and inexplicable metal piping and glass chambers littered the countertops. Eirjin took a deep breath; he loved the faint smell of organic solvents and vacuum-oil and old coffee.

Eirjin hummed to the music of efficient motors. Just inside the door, to the right, stood several workstations, and Dr. Laldor motioned towards them; “set your books down and I’ll make us morning tea before we get started?”

Before Eirjin could answer, the professor walked over to a galley kitchen on the left side of the entrance.

Eirjin set his bag down on the floor under his workstation. He spun around in excitement and knocked over a plastic plant stand. Luckily, it didn’t include a plant. He bent over to pick it up, his tail high in the air, and accidentally presented his backside to his boss.

“Oh sir, I’m so sorry!” He spun around to face the older dragon, his face flushed indigo. He bent himself at an odd angle to keep his tail where it belonged and try to right the plant stand, but fumbled and dropped it, this time breaking it. Ms. Jyhxter would be angry at him again.

For a moment he froze in terror. He was so excited to finally be given his own set of keys that he lost control. It hadn’t helped that he’d had another growth spurt earlier in the month. He wondered if he would ever reach a point where he would feel normal in his own body. He stared up at his mentor and stopped himself clicking his front claws together.

“It’s fine. I understand.” Dr. Laldor sighed and handed Eirjin a steaming cup of tea. “Have I told you about the time …”

Eirjin suppressed a sigh and did his best to appear engaged.

“… I almost burned down the astronomy building? Like you, I was the youngest in my cohort and after two years I was finally accepted with the astrophysics group—they were a rowdy bunch…”

Dr. Laldor stopped mid-sentence, his teacup halfway to his beak and a faraway look on his face. Eirjin knew it was best to let him come back to his thoughts on his own. If anyone tried to help, it usually meant back-tracking and doubling story time. The old professor unfroze, chuckled at some distance memory, and continued as if he’d never stopped.

“At first, all I did was fetch tea and forge notes and laugh when I was the butt of their pranks, but eventually they allowed me to follow along on one of their jaunts. They wanted to sneak into the observatory after hours for a party. I brought along the tea and the portable kettle …”

He stopped again to sip his tea, and Eirjin did his best to suppress a yawn.

Ms. Jyhxter picked that perfect moment to saunter in and collect her tea. Dr. Laldor seemed to forget he was telling a story, and Eirjin was spared the lengthy and no longer funny tale of how Dr. Laldor was just like him. He was relieved when she failed to notice the missing plant stand.

Over the year, they had both given him more responsibilities, and eventually, Dr. Laldor had shown him the start-up procedures for the particle beam. And today was his test; he would be allowed to press the buttons and turn the dials that would ramp the beam energy up from zero to the highest allowed by the council.

That was 8 Peta-electron-Volts. Dr. Laldor insisted it could go considerably higher, but the newest set of experiments didn’t need more energy, and they hadn’t ramped it up to full power yet. Some of the professor’s colleagues insisted that he not go over 10 PeV because of the danger of wormholes and black holes, and they were forcing him to wait for their final approval to move forward with his next set of experiments.

Dr. Laldor often complained to whoever was in the room that the council didn’t have a single physicist on it and the chemist and the astronomy professors couldn’t possibly understand the math involved. Eirjin was skeptical though because if he could understand the math, so could they, but he kept that opinion to himself.

He followed the written instructions and his notes, checking and double-checking each control parameter before entering the next one. Then waiting for the test feedback to turn green. He could feel Ms. Jyhxter and Dr. Laldor behind him, barely breathing. He wanted to ask them to step back; they were making him more nervous, his back feathers rippled involuntarily. But that was part of the test: could he pull it off under stress? Finally, the last parameter was set, and Eirjin was ready to switch on the beam. He placed his arms behind his back and stepped away from the control console so that his mentors could inspect his work.

He held his breath.

They both muttered and fussed and pointed. They turned to Eirjin; Dr. Laldor broke out in smiles. “You passed the set-up, excellent Eirjin.”

Ms. Jyhxter gave him a rare, tight smile.

“Turn on the beam,” said Dr. Laldor, and they both stepped back to give Eirjin access to the toggle switch, a surprisingly old-fashioned device. His front claw hovered over the small metallic lever for a second, not from nerves, but to fully experience the moment. Then he flipped it up and heard the magnets click on and the motors turn up, and an electric hum filled the space.

They all clicked their claws together.

“We should celebrate. Lunch is on me,” said Dr. Laldor as he turned to leave the lab.

“Ms. Jyhxter followed and Eirjin lingered a few seconds, looking around the lab and feeling like he was home for the first time in his life.

He grabbed his bag and scampered after his teachers without bumping into or knocking over a single thing.

After lunch, Dr. Laldor headed over to the main administration building for a meeting with the physics department chair, and Ms. Jyhxter mumbled something about studying for a test and headed out the other direction. The only place Eirjin wanted to be was back in the lab and with the absent-minded assent of Dr. Laldor, he headed back.

He used his key to get into the lab and, for the first time, he was alone. In the quiet, a strange whine filled the lab, as if a motor were running hot. He had to check it; he didn’t consider leaving it alone. In the accelerator control room, he noticed a blinking red light; one magnet was a couple of degrees Kelvin over temperature. He tapped the light, but it didn’t change. He looked around, wondering what he should do.

He returned to his workstation and sent a message to Dr. Laldor, and sat to wait. The temperature rose a degree.

Eirjin was confident he understood how it all worked well enough to at least troubleshoot. Ms. Jyhxter probably forgot to swap out a liquid helium tank. He hadn’t done this himself before, but he’d watched her do it several times.

The beam was active, and Eirjin checked the other magnets and the proton concentration; everything looked nominal. He checked the beam loss monitor noticed that the beam energy was decreasing slightly and considered that might be because one of the myriad of magnets was warming, so he increased the energy to compensate and headed down to the beam line to see what he could do about the cooling system.

He didn’t give the energy monitor another look, but he should have. The value on the digital readout kept ticking upward, 7.5 PeV, 7.55 PeV … 8.35 PeV… Eirjin forgot to set the rate of increase and ceiling, and it was set to ramp-up speed. By the time he was standing next to the beam line, the energy had exceeded its design maximum, and tiny, swirling dark spots warping the air popped in and out of existence.

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