‘Please,’ she says, gesturing to the back of the room. ‘Take a seat.’
I pull out a chair at one of the tables. The glasshouse looks like someone has built a library amid a jungle. Bulbous lamps made of pretty blue china, plush cushions and magazines titledDragons Dailysit beneath tumbling vines of ivy and the sharp leaves of some tropical plant the size of a small tree. The machines seem completely out of place.
I peer at the device in front of me. It’s a box made of glass shaped a bit like a radio with a tall, retractable aerial and asmall gold speaker that looks like it belongs on a gramophone. There are several brass dials,playandpausebuttons and a large switch.
‘My name is Dolores Seymour. I’m a dragon behaviourist, and Head of CodebreakingandRecruitment at Bletchley Park. You have each been chosen to join me in the glasshouse because you possess a particular skill set that is well adapted to the work I do here.’ Dr Seymour gestures around us. ‘For example, Katherine:youare a previously undiscovered chess champion.’
Katherine nods slowly, looking bewildered.
‘Your logic, memory and ability to solve puzzles is exactly the kind of talent we need here.’ Dr Seymour turns to Sophie. ‘And you, Sophie, have strong mathematical abilitiesandyou are fluent in Morse code, thanks to your experience sending coded messages via the telegraph system.’
That’s why Sophie was recruited? Because she helped her mother in the telegraph offices during the war?
‘And, of course, we have our polyglots!’ Dr Seymour looks from me to Gideon with a smile. ‘Gideon speaks several human languages, while Vivien specialises in dragon tongues. Together, you bring a wealth of linguistic knowledge to the table.’
I raise my hand. ‘Excuse me, Dr Seymour?’
‘Yes, Vivien?’
‘I can see why chess or Morse might be useful for codebreaking, but languages?’ I glance at Gideon. ‘Are you sure we’ve been assigned the correct category?’
Dr Seymour takes a seat on a stool, her hands clasped inher lap. ‘Well, Vivien, you must already know that dragons are the world’s greatest linguists, capable of learning multiple languages at an impressive speed.’
I nod.
‘But dragons communicate in other ways, too. Do you know what I mean by that?’
I suddenly feel like I’m back at university, surprised by a lecturer’s trick question. I shake my head.
‘Of course you don’t,’ she says, smiling as if amused by her own joke. ‘Dragons also communicate via sonar. It’s a form of echolocation, the same used by whales and bats.’
Whales and bats? Why would dragons need to communicate like animals when they learn several languages in their first year of life alone?
‘Dragons communicate via echolocation when separated by long distances, or are underwater. Have any of you ever heard about echolocation and how it works?’
Gideon raises his hand and I feel a pang of jealousy. How doesheknow the answer?
‘I’ve heard of sonar being used in the war, to detect submarines?’ he says tentatively.
Dr Seymour nods. ‘The first sonar listening device was invented at the beginning of the century, and became the eyes and ears of underwater warships. But nature is the author of the original sonar system. Echolocation was first observed in bats and whales. During the Great War, we realised that dragons – who coordinated attacks during flight with minute precision – were using it, too.’
My skin prickles. It’s been five years since the war ended– why was I never taught about this in any of my modules on dragon communication?
‘Dragons send out sound waves through their mouths, and when the waves hit objects they produce echoes,’ Dr Seymour says. ‘There are two types of echolocation calls – ranging calls, which dragons use to detect objects in the space around them, and social calls. All on a frequency too high for us humans to hear.’
I glance at the contraption on my desk again. ‘Are the rebel dragons communicating via echolocation? Is that why we’re here, to read ultrasonic sound waves?’
‘You’re going to listen to them, not read them,’ Dr Seymour says. ‘And then you’ll translate them.’
A fly hovers across the room and lands on the speaker of the contraption. Could its buzzes be decoded, too, if we had the right machine?
‘We’re not sure when or why dragons began communicating via echolocation, but we know it is crucial to how they organise themselves in battle. Deciphering what they’re saying – and perhaps one day being able to reproduce the calls ourselves – would give us a huge advantage.’
‘Why doesn’t the Prime Minister just ask the Dragon Queen to tell her how it works?’ Katherine asks. ‘Wouldn’t she agree if it means helping us beat the rebels?’
‘The dragons do not want humans to know that they possess a natural sonar system. It seems they intend to keep this method of communication a secret.’
‘How does it work?’ Sophie asks. She has tied her hair back and her eyes are shining with determination.
