"Yes. Just sit in the sun. Then at nightfall he would come back in. When they asked why he wasn't working in the jet repair building he told them he had to be out in the sun. Then he said—" Cox hesitated.
"Yes? Said what?"
"He said that work was unnatural. That it was a waste of time. That the only worthwhile thing was to sit and contemplate—outside."
"What then?"
"Then they asked him how he got that idea, and then he revealed to them that he had become a plant."
"I'm going to have to talk to him again, I can see," Harris said. "And he's applied for a permanent discharge from the Patrol? What reason did he give?"
"The same, that he's a plant now, and has no more interest in being a Patrolman. All he wants to do is sit in the sun. It's the damnedest thing I ever heard."
"All right. I think I'll visit him in his quarters." Harris looked at his watch. "I'll go over after dinner."
"Good luck," Cox said gloomily. "But who ever heard of a man turning into a plant? We told him it wasn't possible, but he just smiled at us."
"I'll let you know how I make out," Harris said.