The Dinosaur Feather(33)

“It’s amazing, isn’t it,” she burst out. “Of course, I’m no expert. But it came as a huge surprise to me!” She smiled at Clive, straightened his jacket, conjured up a powder compact from her pocket, and began dabbing powder on Clive’s nose.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow?” Clive croaked. The cable for the microphone was choking him, and he tried to give it more slack.

“Allow me.” the young woman said. “Turn around.” Clive turned, and she carefully lifted up his jacket. Clive felt the cable loosen and became more comfortable.

“What did you mean just now?” Clive prompted her. His cell phone had been switched off, and he hadn’t looked at a newspaper while visiting his mother. He suddenly got the feeling that the President might have been assassinated and that he was the last to know.

“It’s really amaz—” the woman began, then she stopped to listen to something coming through her headset, excused herself, and hurried off.

Dr. Tybjerg entered, grinning like an idiot in the sharp light, and pushed up his unfashionable glasses.

“Professor Freeman,” he said, offering him a sweaty hand. Clive shook it. Tybjerg might be a walking encyclopedia, his knowledge was truly impressive, but he was devoid of charm.

“As a scientist you would have to rejoice, no matter what your views are, wouldn’t you say so?” Dr. Tybjerg stuttered. “You must admit that it’s hard to believe?”

“What are you talking about?” Clive said as calmly as he could manage, but he felt his voice tremble.

Dr. Tybjerg gave him a puzzled look.

At that moment the host appeared and explained the format of the debate to the audience. Professor Clive Freeman and Dr. Erik Tybjerg were introduced to each other by their full titles, to the audience and the viewers, after which the host handed floor to the two duelists. Clive made a friendly gesture to Tybjerg, who opened the debate.

“As you all know, the day before yesterday it was announced that the remains of a feathered Tyrannosaurus had been found in Makoshika State Park in the state of Montana, close to Hell Creek where the world’s first Tyrannosaurus Rex fossil was found in 1902.”

Clive stared at Tybjerg. His jaw dropped.

The duel lasted thirty minutes, and throughout the whole ordeal Tybjerg was visibly nervous but quick-thinking. He listened attentively, he never interrupted Clive and every time he demolished one of Clive’s arguments, he was thorough, meticulous, almost. When Clive declared that he wanted to examine the animal before forming an opinion, Tybjerg gave Clive a looked of genuine surprise and wonder, and said:

“How long are you going to use that argument? Until a feathered Apatosaurus turns up on your doorstep?” It was an obvious joke, but no laughed.

When the spotlights faded, the audience started to disperse and Clive studied his hands. He didn’t dare look at Dr. Tybjerg, who hadn’t moved since the stage lights dimmed. Afterward he had no idea what provoked him. A faint cough? The quiet superiority? Whatever it was, he glanced up and the second he met Tybjerg’s eyes, he slapped him with the back of his hand. Dr. Tybjerg sprang up, horrified, touching his eyebrow, which had split open. Clive looked at his hand, at his wedding ring. It was stained with blood. When he looked up again, Tybjerg had left.

Then he heard footsteps.

“What happened?” the confused young assistant shouted.

“Uh,” Clive began. He dusted off his clothes. The assistant looked at him and then in the direction in which Tybjerg had disappeared.

“Uh,” Clive repeated and dusted his clothes again.


Back in Vancouver, Clive felt strangely accepting of the news. He refused to talk to the press, didn’t reply to e-mails and telephone calls, and he informed the faculty press office that he had no plans to counter-attack.

“I have resigned myself to the folly of this world,” he told the press officer. Then he called a meeting with his department where they agreed to keep a low profile while redistributing their workload. The next allocation of research funding would take place in three years, and no one needed reminding that if they were unable to convince the world that birds were not descended from dinosaurs, they would never get another grant.

They decided to start three major excavations and an expensive developmental study to observe the cartilage condensation in bird embryos. Clive’s junior researcher, Michael Kramer, would be heading the project.

Once that was in place, Clive headed home.


As Clive cycled through the forest, the sun shining through the trees, he thought about Jack. They hardly ever spoke these days. When Clive submitted a paper, Jack rarely acknowledged receipt, and when Clive rang with changes, Jack’s secretary would deal with them. Clive had even called Jack at home and left a message, but Jack never called back.