He took his fingers and pinched off the rose. As it dropped to the floor, a whitish, gleaming pellet half emerged from the flower, but Ghor quickly ground it underfoot.
"You see? That little projectile might have killed me. The flower is vicious. Like other plants on this planet it utilizes organic radioactivity to destroy other living plants."
"So that was what it was." Mick said. "Organic radioactivity!"
Ghor did not reply. His eyes were on the stem of the plant. It was swaying gently, as if it possessed muscles. A little green bubble formed on the end of the stem.
"Watch!" Ghor whispered.
The bubble enlarged and suddenly burst. There, in full bloom, was another rose, just like the first that Ghor had broken from the stem.
"You see, gentlemen, your planet is not the only one that might have the legend of the Hydra! You cut off the head of any plant and another grows in its place. Sometimes two heads grow and by the process of division—analogous with cell division—a new plant individual is formed. The botanical life of Dead Man's planet carries regeneration forward to such a degree that even the loss of a leaf, or of a thorn is replaced in a few minutes, often in a few seconds. The plant life is so hardy that when my father, whose name I never knew, attempted to clear this space with fire, he found he had twice the growth of plants after the fire."
"It's clear now," Alf said. "How did he do it?"
"By transplanting and controlled regeneration," Ghor said, smiling. "He carried his experiments far. Most of the trees here were developed by him. He found that certain injections transformed cell structures so that he could cause the regenerated parts to assume almost any shape he desired. My father's trees are nothing but Ngye stalks—mere weeds—so transformed that they resemble the oaks, the elms, and the chestnuts of the earth."
"And the corn, I suppose is merely a synthetic product?" Mick asked.