When he had finished on the computer, he leaned back and tried not to think about Jack. Why hadn’t he called? Clive still hadn’t met Molly, Jack’s wife. They had just had their second daughter, and Clive hadn’t even seen the first one yet. Once upon a time, Clive had been the sole recipient of Jack’s rare, blinding smiles, the one who triggered his exclamations of surprise, the one who prompted him to press the tip of his tongue against the corner of his mouth in concentration when learning new facts. Now it was likely to be Molly and the two little girls. Clive was well aware that the distance was partly his own making. Jack had briefly met Clive’s sons, Tom and Franz, one day when the boys had picked him up from the university parking lot, and had, on one occasion, met Kay at a conference dinner that Jack had attended alone. However, distance was one thing, deliberate avoidance was something else. Jack was conspicuously polite and friendly, and always had time for a professional discussion, but Clive found his private reticence unbearable. They didn’t have to get together with their wives and children, the very thought caused Clive to break into a sweat, but Clive and Jack had a connection and it was as if Jack refused to acknowledge it, even when they were alone. It was absurd. Clive knew Jack better than anyone. He had Jack in his blood, in the tips of his fingers, which still remembered the feeling of ruffling Jack’s dark hair.
Jack would know perfectly well that the discovery of an allegedly feathered dinosaur meant late nights for Clive, who would need weeks to defend his position and refute the implications that the media and every other idiot would draw from the discovery. Jack not letting Clive into his life might be a coincidence, it might even be Clive’s own fault. But Jack not calling him, that was deliberate.
Clive called a meeting with his department that Monday, and later the same day they issued a press release announcing that UBC’s department of Bird Evolution, Paleobiology, and Systematics was obviously excited at the discovery of a feathered dinosaur, but that they had nothing further to say until they had been allowed to examine the specimen themselves. Afterward Clive completed an application to view the animal, knowing full well that it would be a great deal of time before permission was granted. Jack still hadn’t called.
The following January, the two Chinese paleontologists, Chang and Laam, finally described and named the animal and announced that it wasn’t a dinosaur. Clive was triumphant. They named it Sinosauropteryx, concluded it was an ancient bird, and consequently no one was surprised that it had feathers.
However, Clive’s joy was short-lived. Fossils started pouring out of China’s soil, literally, and in every subsequent case, Chang and Laam had no doubts: these weren’t ancient birds, they were dinosaurs. And they were all feathered.
Clive sent a reminder regarding his application, and when it was finally approved he flew to China immediately. It took him two weeks to examine Sinosauropteryx, and he also had a closer look at Caudipteryx and Protarchaeopteryx. Delighted, he called Jack and told him to hold the front page. Clive’s enthusiasm was infectious. “This is a rotten line,” Jack laughed, “call me when you get back.”
Clive spent another two days in China before flying home. He was overjoyed. Beipiaosaurus, Sinornithosaurus, Microraptor, Caudipteryx, and Protarchaeopteryx were obviously all ancient birds but not dinosaurs. Furthermore, the Chinese had turned out to be very welcoming, not at all reticent as he had been told, and the food was superb. One afternoon he strolled through a garden of cherry trees, whose white petals fluttered poetically onto passersby and wished Jack could have been there with him. If only they could have some time together. Jack was a science writer, one of the very best, but, of course, there was a price to pay. Jack shared Clive’s scientific views, Clive knew that, but Jack self-evidently couldn’t appreciate the discussion about the origin of birds fully, when he also had to consider so many other topics. If only they could have some time together, then Clive could explain the details to him. This would boost Clive’s position enormously. Scientific Today was selling better than ever, everyone in the science community read it and wanted to publish in it. Jack and he would once more be an unbeatable duo.
Across from the cherry-tree garden was a market, where Clive bought two bronze beetles in a glass dome for his sons and a large piece of silk for Kay. When he got back, he would ask Jack if they could go away together. Just for a couple of days. Just the two of them.
When he got back to Canada, Clive went to see Jack. He had written most of his paper on the plane, and when he landed in Vancouver the major themes of his arguments were outlined. Triumphantly, he slammed it down in front of Jack.