"You mean that stuff was corn?" Alf asked. "Real roasting ears?"
"Well, almost." Ghor's lips cracked into another of his nerve-racking smiles. "You see the plants are really native of Dead Man's planet, but I modified them into something quite close to terrestrial maize."
"By grafting and cross fertilization?"
"Oh no. There is a much different process of propagation of the species here, much simpler. My corn was regenerated."
Ghor hobbled across the room toward an ultra-violet lamp beneath which were two pots of flowers, both looking much like American beauty roses. Ghor returned, with the same mincing steps, walking as if a leg injury had limited the use of his knees.
"These flowers are beautiful," Ghor said, like a doctor of philosophy announcing the first premise of a step in mathematics.
"Yes," Mick replied. "We noticed numbers of them growing in the rocks."
"I know. I placed them there, to make Dead Man's planet beautiful. But they are quite useless."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that."
"I know what I am talking about. On earth, roses serve many purposes aside from beauty. They help maintain the atmosphere by exchanging carbon dioxide for oxygen; they fertilize the soil; they supply insects, such as bees, with food. These roses extract carbon from the rocks and give nothing in return, except their beauty. The soil is not fertilized. There are no insects to feed. This flower has no pollen, for it is purely ornamental, developed by myself for beauty's sake."