by N. R. Walker
I didn’t care much for the professor’s tone but Jack smiled good-naturedly. “Jack Brighton. I would shake your hand, but Lawson told me not to move. And that’s okay about me being a surprise; I don’t expect Lawson to talk about me at work.”
I frowned. “Well no. I don’t cross-contaminate my personal and professional lives.”
Jack appeared as if he was trying not to laugh, though I couldn’t understand why. So I added, “And Jack is more to me than a travel companion.”
Piers gave me a tight smile. His accent was particularly thick when he said, “I could see that.” Then his face softened, as though he’d remembered his manners. “I was watching when the butterflies first landed on you.” He turned his attention to Jack and the two butterflies still on his shirt. “Magnificent creatures, no?”
Jack gave him one of his disarming smiles, dimples and all. “They’re remarkable.”
Piers’ peculiar tension seemed to dissipate as he told Jack about this particular Ulysses, and when there was a brief pause in the conversation, I interrupted. “If you don’t mind, Professor, I’m just going to check the water samples.” I gave Jack an apologetic glance as I left them to talk.
I entered the lab area and quickly set about checking the samples I’d taken on day one and day two. I’d taken petri dish swabs to see if the issue was bacterial, and I had sent samples to the CSIRO for analysis. I was doing everything that Piers had already done, but I had to see the data for myself.
All pH levels were fine. All bacteria was fine and well within the healthy range.
With a final check of emails, I printed off the CSIRO soil report and read through their findings. All readings were normal. Potassium levels were toward the higher range of normal, but nothing stood out as problematic.
It was frustrating, but by process of elimination, it was still something. If it wasn’t the air or the water affecting the Ulysses, it had to be diet.
I was more convinced.
Piers appeared at my side, startling me. “Oh!”
He gave me a sad smile, then nodded to the report in my hand. “Find anything new?”
“No. Nothing really.”
He nodded slowly. He appeared uncomfortable or distracted.
“Everything okay? Where’s Jack?”
Piers looked back to the atrium. “Oh, he’s still with the butterflies. He’s quite fascinated.”
I smiled.
Piers studied me a moment. “That look on your face. You love him.”
“That’s hardly professional and quite frankly not up for discussion.”
He waved me off. “Oh, Lawson. It’s perfectly fine. Don’t be embarrassed. If anything, I’m envious.”
“Of my relationship with Jack?”
He bobbed his head in a so-so manner. “More so his relationship with you.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
He laughed, embarrassed, and shook his head. “It was foolish of me to think… Anyway, he’s a very lucky man.”
Oh dear. This was terribly embarrassing. “He is a lucky man. As am I. But if you invited me here on the proviso or the assumption that you and I would be compatible… in that manner, you were quite incorrect.”
“Not entirely,” he said. He looked properly abashed, and I found myself forgiving him.
“Then why am I here?”
“For your intellect, to see what I cannot,” Piers answered. “You have a proven track record to examine and process. Though you’ve spent three days repeating data analysis that I assured you was correct. Now you’re leaving today to do tourist sightseeing. You keep saying it’s the diet, but it cannot be.”
Okay, so maybe he wasn’t completely forgiven. Piers’ passion and temper were not mutually exclusive, and I was only tolerant of so much. “Professor Bonfils, the reason I am here at your request is to help determine possible causes of the decline in the Ulysses. I’m not here to agree with you. If you want someone to pat you on the back and tell you you’ve done all you can do, then you chose the wrong person. I’m here to help you save this species. If you’d rather I left, tell me now and I’ll go. I don’t want to waste your time. But I can tell you right now, this butterfly is dying. If you’d rather see it face extinction than admit you could have done more, then I’ll have no part of it. If you want to help me help you, then respectfully, sir, take your head out of your arse and help me.”
He did his angry-Frenchman-hand-waving thing. “I think I can see why Professor Asterly doesn’t like you.”
“I don’t care what Asterly thinks of me. I don’t care what you think of me. I’m not here to be liked, Professor. I’m here to do a job.”
His eyes flashed with defiance and possibly amusement. “Despite my best efforts to the contrary, I do like you.”
“Thank you. And I respect the work you’ve done here. It is incredible, and I’m not disparaging your life’s work. Quite the opposite, actually. But we need plans and we need them actioned. I’m only here for a limited time.”
“Well, about that,” Bonfils replied cautiously. “I told you my interests in you being here were only partially personal. If I were to offer you a position here, full-time, to work as co-lead, would you be interested?”
CHAPTER SIX
Jack
Lawson was quiet on the drive to the Kuranda National Park. Granted, it was just around the corner, but he spent the entire time in the car either frowning or scowling, chewing on his bottom lip.
“Everything okay?”
“Hmm?” He looked surprised I’d spoken. “Sorry, I was a million miles away.”
I drove the car into a spot in the tourist parking lot. I shut the engine off and looked at him. “I asked if everything was okay?”
“Oh, yes. Well, not really.”
“What’s going through that brilliant mind of yours, Lawson? Is it the butterflies? Or something else?”
He swallowed hard and shook his head. “It’s nothing. Let’s go. I’m quite excited to be here.”
I looked out the windscreen to where the sign to the Kuranda National Park greeted us. Something was bothering him, but if he needed time to process, then I would give him that. “I’m excited too! We could spend days here, and given we have half a day, we better get moving.”
We paid our entry fee and opted for the guided tour, which was an amphibious vehicle that took us into the rainforest floor, exploring the amazing trees and ferns, all the tropical and citrus fruits, then onto the river where we could explore the rainforest from the water. It was incredible, but I really wanted to spend time with Lawson, just us. I wanted to see him experience this rainforest, this new environment, and watch his every reaction.
After the guided tour, we took the Skyrail up to the top of the mountain so we could walk back down, just the two of us.
And I wasn’t disappointed.
I could practically hear his mind turning, his love for learning new things shone in his eyes. I mean the rainforest was incredible: damp paths underfoot, dense green foliage, tall trees, and a whole symphony of sounds.
“It’s an extraordinary place, isn’t it?” I couldn’t keep the wonder from my tone.
“Yes, quite,” he replied, stopping to look up at the canopy of a particular tree. “Very different from your parks in Tasmania.”
“Well, on the west coast of Tassie, we have rainforests similar but not tropical like this. I’ll have to take you to the Franklin-Gordon Wild Rivers National Park. Now that is something to see.” I reached over and put my hand on the trunk of the tree he was looking at. “Wanna know what this is called?”
“Sure.”
I grinned. “It’s the Idiospermum australiense or the Idiot Fruit.”
He gave me a disbelieving look. “You’re joking?”
“No, I’m not joking! The fruit seed is highly poisonous. No birds or animals will touch it.”
“Except for the idiot it was undoubtedly named after.”
I laughed. “Probably.”
&nbs
p; He gave me a smile that didn’t quite sit right.
I had planned to give him time, but maybe he needed some prompting. I debated not saying anything, but I hated the fact he was miserable. “Lawson, did Professor Bonfils say something to upset you?”
His gaze shot to mine, and the look on his face told me all I needed to know. He blinked nervously. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re an open book. I thought it might have just been the butterflies, but that’s not it. Something’s been bothering you since we left the conservatory this morning. I figured it was him because he went off to speak to you, and you’ve been quiet since.”
“Oh.” He chewed on his bottom lip and stared off into the forest.
“Lawson, is it the fact he’s attracted to you?”
His eyes bugged out and his mouth fell open, which would’ve been funny if he didn’t go a little pale. “I never encouraged… I didn’t know…”
I pulled him against me and hugged him, and chuckling, I kissed the side of his head. “I know. But it was pretty clear from the moment he saw you with me that he was disappointed.”
The truth was, Lawson was oblivious to the reactions of most people around him. It would have been obvious to most people that Piers found Lawson attractive, but just not obvious to Lawson.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
I pulled back, keeping my hands on his arms. “What on earth for? You’ve nothing to apologise for.”
He sighed and his frown deepened. “He told me he was jealous that I had a friend such as you. I told him, indisputably, you were more than just a friend, and if his intentions in asking me to come here were romantically inclined, he was very mistaken.”
I tried not to smile, but I lifted his chin so he’d look at me. I pecked my lips to his. “Thank you. Though I had no doubt. I trust you, Lawson. Implicitly.”
The corner of his lip pulled down. “There’s something else.”
A cold trickle of dread seeped into my chest. “What’s that?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I can’t… I won’t keep secrets from you.”
The trickle became a pool.
“He’s asked me to join his team. Permanently.”
“What?”
“Professor Bonfils has officially requested I join his team on a permanent basis here, in far north Queensland.”
I blinked. “Oh. What did you say?”
“Nothing. Before I could answer, he told me to think about it.”
“What about your Tillman Copper?”
“Exactly. My work there is very important. I won’t leave my own team.” He stared into my eyes. “I don’t want to leave you, either. You’re very important too.”
Relief coursed through me. I couldn’t deny it. He slipped his hand into mine and gently pulled me to keep walking. “Come on. We better get heading back.” He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “You can tell me more botanical names on the way.”
* * *
I felt kinda detached after Lawson told me that he’d been offered a job here. I was pissed off and scared too because I’d just found the most incredible man, and I could see myself with him forever. In Tasmania. Where we lived. I mean, we didn’t live together, per se, but it was only a matter of time. We both knew that.
Or had I assumed that? Were we even on the same page? I thought we were, but now I wasn’t sure.
When we got back to the information centre, I was still talking about the Epiphytes. They were an amazing plant, in particular, the Drynaria rigidula and the Northern Elkhorn. And it was easier for me to keep talking about the ecosystem of plants rather than think about Lawson leaving.
“Well, you certainly know what you’re talking about,” a woman said. She wore a park uniform, her blonde hair in a ponytail, and a high-wattage smile.
“Oh, hi. Yes, flora and fauna. It’s what I do,” I said, extending my hand out to her. “Jack Brighton’s my name.”
“Cassie O’Hearn.” She had a firm handshake, and I liked her immediately.
“Lawson Gale.” Lawson introduced himself politely. “Jack works for Parks and Wildlife in Tasmania.”
“And Lawson’s here on a professional invitation from the butterfly conservatory.” Then I added, “So, technically, flora and fauna is what we do.”
Cassie’s eyes lit up. “Excellent!
“Maybe you can tell Lawson about the Dendrocnide moroide,” I suggested to her. “Because he thinks I’m making it up.”
Lawson rolled his eyes. “I believe him about the idiot fruit because… well, I don’t doubt some idiot ate it and died after being told not to eat it. But a tree that has glass on the leaves?” He gave me a doubtful look. “I’m not gullible.”
Cassie laughed. “The Stinging Tree. Rest assured it’s very real, and I don’t recommend you go near it.”
Lawson frowned at her. “He wasn’t pulling my leg?”
Cassie shook her head with a smile. “No. The leaves may look harmless, but they’re covered with microscopic hairs made of mineral silica: the chief constituent of glass. If you brush against the hair-like tips, they break off and embed in the skin and release a poison irritant. The sting’s effect is severe and lasts for months.”
Lawson made a face. “That’s what Jack said. I’m starting to see why most tourists believe almost everything in Australia is trying to kill you.”
She laughed again. “So, you’re here from Tasmania?” she asked, looking at me this time. “That’s pretty cool. I help look after the Tasmanian devils here. We have a breeding pair, and the newest pups are a handful.”
“Oh, can I see them?” Lawson asked excitedly.
Cassie beamed. “Sure!”
We followed Cassie out into the wildlife park, and as we walked to the enclosure, I told her how Lawson had almost died when he saved two joeys from the bushfire. She stopped at the enclosure fence so she could hug him. The look on his face was priceless.
Cassie laughed and looked to a particular spot in the enclosure. “Over there,” she said.
The devils were out of the den. Given the late afternoon, it wasn’t too surprising. Lawson put his hand on my arm. “Look, Jack, there they are!”
I put my hand on his lower back. “They’re bigger than the ones you saved.”
“They might be this big by now,” he said wistfully, not taking his eyes off the playful joeys.
If Cassie had any problem with mine and Lawson’s displays of affection, even as passive as they were―a gentle touch, a reassuring hand―she certainly didn’t let on. In fact, we chatted as we watched the devils rumble and tackle each other.
Just then, another staff member joined us. He introduced himself as Gary, and Cassie explained further, “Gary’s one of our vegetation experts.” Then she nodded to me. “Jack here’s with the Tassie Parks and Wildlife.”
Gary’s eyes widened, as did his smile. “How’re ya finding it up here?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Sure is,” he agreed. “How long you stayin’ for?”
“Another week.” I introduced Lawson and mentioned his work with the conservatory. “He has a week to find out what’s affecting the Ulysses, save the species, and ensure the entomological ecosystem remains in balance.”
Gary and Cassie laughed. Lawson rolled his eyes. “It’s hardly that exciting.”
“That’s a pretty remarkable job,” Cassie said.
“It is a remarkable job,” I agreed.
“It’s one I should get back to,” Lawson said, glancing at his watch. “I told the professor I’d be back before he leaves for the evening.”
“Ah, how is Professor Piers going?” Gary asked.
“You know him?” Lawson asked.
Gary nodded. “I deal with him a bit. We supply organic fruit and plants for his butterflies.”
“Oh, of course,” Lawson said. “Piers is okay. He’s very passionate about his work. And I’d imagine he won’t be too pleased if I’m late.”
I took our cue. “Yes, we should be going. Thank you, Cassie, for the private tour.”
“Pleasure,” she said cheerfully.
Gary put his hand out. “Hey, if you’re looking for something to do during the day, I run guided walking tours. Not many people find the biodiversity of our flora as exciting as me, but you might like it.”
“I’d love it!” I agreed. “And actually, I have a few hours to spare.”
“Excellent!”
We said our goodbyes, and I was quite excited about my little guided excursion into the forest tomorrow. I’d almost forgotten about Professor Bonfils’ offer to Lawson and for the reason of the trip in general until we got back to the conservatory.
We found Professor Bonfils sitting dejectedly at his lab desk, a sad frown etched into his features.
“What is it?” Lawson asked as we approached him.
Piers nodded to a tray in front of him, and we took a closer look. On it was the body of a dead Ulysses. Its bright blue wings folded, its inquisitive, curious light extinguished. “Our last breeding pair is gone.”
Lawson’s shoulders sagged, his whole frame seemed smaller. “Oh no.”
* * *
I took Lawson back to our hotel room. He was understandably quiet and sad. I put my keys on the table and cupped his face. “Tell me what you want. Do you want to talk? I know it helps you think straight talking through things.”
He sighed and leaned into my palm.
“Lawson?” I said gently. “Tell me what’s happening to the Ulysses.”
He closed his eyes. “It’s dying. The species. In captivity, in the wild. Not just here, but worldwide. We don’t know why.”
“You think it’s diet related?”
He nodded and looked up to me. “It has to be.”
“Tell me why? Tell me how it’s possible for just this species. No other butterflies are affected, so tell me what’s different about this butterfly?”
He started to smile. “You really want to know?”
I nodded. “Start with the basics. You said this was happening worldwide. Where else is the Ulysses found?”