Always Trust Birds

Who shut the window? asks the parakeet.

Me, says Terence.

Why? asks the parakeet. You knew I was coming back in.

Making it harder, says Terence.

It was a beautiful spoon, says the parakeet, talking it up.

Go back and get it, says Terence. Then I'll forgive you.

No, says the parakeet. You had your chance.

I'll get it myself, says Terence. Keep them talking.

Okay, says the parakeet.

Terence tiptoes to the door.

The parakeet flies to a tiny coffee table, between two armchairs, where Gaius and Isidore are drinking their coffee.

Thanks for opening the window, says the parakeet.

You can thank Gaius, says Isidore. I wasn't going to.

Thank you, Gaius, says the parakeet.

Anything for a quiet life, says Gaius. If Terence is thwarted, he tends to go off on a tangent.

He's gone off on one now, says the parakeet.

It's true, the apartment door is ajar. Terence is missing.

Go after him, will you, says Gaius. He can't have got far.

Will the door be open when we return? asks the parakeet.

No, says Isidore. You'll have to knock.

The parakeet flies out after Terence.

Perhaps you should go too, says Isidore. After all, he is but an infant.

I trust birds, says Gaius. Always have.

Isidore looks doubtful. They don't think like we do.

All the more reason, says Gaius. You used to lecture on ornithology, didn't you.

I did, says Isidore. And before that I had an interest in mathematics.

Mathematics? says Gaius. A fascinating subject.

Fascinating, says Isidore. And unchanging.

Surely not, says Gaius. There must always be new discoveries.

Yes and no, says Isidore. Why only last year a new geometrical shape was discovered.

Why yes and no? asks Gaius.

The shape already existed in nature, in some insects, such as beetles. says Isidore. Put simply, it's a prismatoid to which one extra mid level vertex has been added.

Gaius can't picture it.

Draw one for me, says Gaius.

Isidore takes a small notepad and pencil from his top pocket, and draws a scutoid.

Behold the scutoid, says Isidore. Without it, complex life on earth may never have happened.

They both look at the scutoid.

Not much good on its own, says Isidore. But packed together, cells of this shape facilitate tissue curvature.

Well I never, says Gaius.

And what about you? asks Isidore.

Me? says Gaius. Tour de France of course, but before that I was in Western Australia looking for a new species of peacock spider. Found one too. But it has been claimed by the Chinese. Before that I was doing some work with the bandy bandies in Weipa. Their habitat is endangered.......

The two old friends chat on, forgetting the time.

Terence and his bird are not back yet.