by Pel Torro
There had to be some kind of connection.…
There had to be!
It was too much to expect the long arm of coincidence to stretch that far. Talking about ‘long arms’ reminded Cameron that the law’s arm was longest of all, and he picked up the phone. That was the job that he had to do.
He picked up the audio-visiphone and rang through to headquarters.
“Lieutenant Cameron, Radville, here,” he said. “I want File Department, please.” The operator switched him through to Files.
“Hello,” said Files. “Who’s calling?”
“Don Cameron, Radville,” said the young lieutenant. “Can you let me have everything that you’ve got on Anzar the scientist who was expelled from the council two or three years back?”
“Will do! When do you want them? By return, or in the morning?” He looked closely at the image on the screen, “You look pretty tuckered out lieutenant.”
“I am, it’s been one of Those Days!”
“O.K.? I’ll see it’s on your desk, waiting for you, first thing in the morning.”
“Thanks a lot,” said Cameron, and hung up.
He went to bed dreaming strange dreams. Of trees that moved, of cars that crashed, near Anzar’s house. Of hover cars spinning helplessly out of control. Of gardens that acted strangely. Of sweet peas that walked, and that caused such a scare when they were taken into the Botanical Laboratory, that nobody liked to make a clear report, and only a whisper came through to Police Headquarters. Road surfaces melted and subsided to the astonishment of road engineers. The whole became a kaleidoscope nightmare in which green phosphorescent ghosts were gliding weirdly along hot, blackened roads to the accompaniment of spinning hover cars and plants that moved like a great sea of greenery and chlorophyll. Cameron spent the night tossing and turning. He was not sorry when morning came.
Dressing quickly, he made his way as rapidly as his spinner would take him, down to the office. There were two reports on his desk. One was from the Botanical Laboratory. They had obviously decided to call in the IPF…
The veil of secrecy had been lifted by the corner at any rate.
The package was heavily sealed.
The other was the full report on Anzar.… The young lieutenant was undecided which to open first. Anzar was the focal point of the mystery, but the botanical information looked extremely interesting. He spun a coin for it, and opened the Botanical package.
As he read the closely-typed scientific data his eyes narrowed into a frown—a curious puzzled frown…
Chapter Three
Double Report
DON CAMERON continued to read. It started off in the ordinary way, interspersed with the technical language that would normally be expected in a report that had come from the central Botanical Laboratory——
“The specimen which was recently submitted by Mr. T. Farrow,” it began “had the superficial identification of the common sweet pea plant. It is a genus from the family Leguminosae, which family consists of herbs with compound pinnate leaves, ending in tendrils. By means of these tendrils the stems, which are rather weak, are enabled to support themselves; there are large leafy stipules at the base. The flowers are Papilionaceous. There is a standard petal, and a large petal above, two side petals which are occasionally known as wings, and in addition there are two front petals which secure it below, forming what is known as the ‘keel’ There are ten stamens, nine of which are united, and the tenth is usually free or only slightly joined to the other nine. The separation allows approach to the nectar, which is secreted at the base of the staminal tube. The ovary of the flower is prolonged into a long thick, bent style, compressed from side to side at the tip, and furnished with hairs. The fruit, characteristically, is in the form of a legume, or pod, in common language. When ripe it bursts into two halves which bear the large round seeds, or peas, on their edges. The seeds are carried on short stalks, and the upper side is dilated to form a shallow cup, which is known technically as an aril. There are, in addition two seed leaves, or cotyledons, which are thick and fleshy. The radicle is present on one side along their edges. To be strictly accurate and technical,” went on the report “it is difficult to tell at first glance whether the specimen submitted, is actually the common or garden sweet pea or the common or garden pea, with some other peculiar influence superimposed. It is this which has caused quite a bit of dissension among the scientists on the establishment … However, after long and careful deliberation, and detailed examination, they have come to the conclusion that the specimens—some more than others—are species of the allied genus Lathyrus—this species being a native of southern Europe. So much for the obvious superficial resemblances to the normal plant.
However, the physiology of the cellular structure has been altered almost beyond belief and the organization of the plant cells in these particular specimens is completely unlike that of any other plant, to which we have ever had access. The protoplasmic, streaming differs; the permeability reaches variation levels completely beyond our previous test experience. The osmotic relations inside the cells themselves are strangely different. In addition, the condition known as plasmolysis can be shown to be taking place, and artificially injected enzymes would appear to have been at work. The transpiration rate differs radically from the normal, in so far as the stomatal transpiration and the cuticular transpiration are almost balanced instead of being in a ratio of about 9 : 1. The physiology of the stomates themselves is radically different. They have become enlarged almost to the size of those which can be found in the zebrina pendula. The dynamics of the stomatal transpiration are also very unusual, as is the transpiration magnitude, and the process of the translocation of water. The root pressures appear to be far from normal and the sap ascent is no longer proceeding in the manner which we comprehend. The carbohydrate metabolism has undergone an important change and the processes of photosynthesis and respiration are no longer in order. The pigments are differing, and the fat and mineral metabolisms are also drastically altered. The upward translocation of organic solutes seems to have practically stopped and there are some vitally important differences which we do not understand, which appear to be connected with the synthesised hormones in the plant organisms themselves. In more direct lay language, the actual outcome of our examination seems to be this:—the plants appear to have been subjected to some kind of radiation bombardment. This bombardment we can only surmise as having some electro-magnetic rather than purely radioactive source of origin. We can, however say, that as a result of the bombardment, plants have undergone a drastic change within themselves. They have produced, by what means we are completely unable to decide, but no doubt as a result of those changes which we have observed above, yet which we are fully unable to account for. They appear to have adopted a kind of locomotion, something akin to a kind of plant-like muscle, has been induced in these particular specimens, and though we would not go so far as to suggest that there is any intelligence at work, they are certainly responding to chemical stimuli … and indeed to certain external physical stimuli. In other words, the plants are no longer dependent upon their roots for their nourishment and nutrition. They are quite capable of moving about in search of it, and when they have exhausted the easily accessible mineral values of salts and water on the particular area of land on which they have been rooted, they will go in search of it in a more favourable spot.
The outcome of such an effect in plants becoming widespread is only too obvious. Instead of forcing their roots down deeply into the soil to extract the moisture and minerals which they require from the lower strata, they will simply exhaust the surface store, pull up their roots, and move away, balanced upon their root until their chemical internal reactors inform them that they are over suitable soil again. The ultimate result will be that all the plants in a given area will move to the more fertile strips and crowd each other out of existence. The defence department has already been informed as have the security ministries.
However, as the pr
oblem is local and could possibly be of extreme urgency, we have taken the unprecedented step of informing your office. However, the matter must be treated as one of the strictest confidence.”
Don put the report down with a shudder. Walking plants! he muttered to himself. Walking, flaming plants, moving around in search of the nourishment which they normally get from the soil.… Don Cameron was one of those who are either blessed—or cursed—whichever way you happen to look at it, with an exceptionally vivid imagination. He could foresee only too well what the result of that would be. In a drought, every single plant would simply uproot itself and walk down to the river where they would just crush each other out of existence. The thought of plants jostling for a place in the sun and a place near the water, really fighting it out, moving, he whispered to himself. Moving around like animals. The whole evolutionary process seemed to have been reversed, plants, he repeated, moving around like animals in that particular area. He began putting two and two together. Old Tom Farrow had been a rare boy for all the possible new fertilisers and hormone preparations he could get, if there had been any good plants, any really advanced plants, any healthy, well-nourished plants, anywhere in the area, they would be the particular plants in Tom Farrow’s garden. Maybe it was accidental, this discovery that had been made, a combination of this radiomagnetic electron effect that was coming from the direction of the strange house on the cliff, and whatever high grade fertiliser old Tom Farrow had been using on his sweet peas.
That had to be the answer, a combination of the two effects!
Otherwise why hadn’t more plants started going for a walk? If plants had been going for a walk … the trees! Of course! So it did affect other things besides sweet peas? If some why not others? It was a problem that Cameron was unable to solve at the moment. He knew there had to be an answer somewhere. He would have to go and ask the old gardener whether he had lost any trees or saplings … that would certainly be the answer.
He picked up the phone. Someone could be finding that out for him while he was reading the Anzar report.
“Oh sergeant.”
“Yes,” answered his immediate subordinate from the next office. “What did you want sir?”
“The most fantastic request you ever heard,” grinned Don over the audio visiphone. “I want you to take a car to old Tom Farrows and find out for me if he has any trees lost stolen or strayed.”
“Beg pardon sir,” said the sergeant.
“I said Trees,” repeated Cameron,” t-r-e-e-s, wooden things with leaves and branches and roots you know—trees! Let me know if Tom Farrow has lost any.…”
“Right sir,” replied the sergeant.
“I don’t care how you phrase your questions, but find out! Believe me it’s important,” said Cameron.
The sergeant knew better than to argue.
“Right sir!” The audio visiphone went dead, and the sergeant was gone. Cameron picked up the next report, a really vital essential report, a report which he hoped would give him the low down on Anzar.
The file information on Anzar was far from illuminating. There was a brief record of the scientific degrees and diplomas which he had won, which covered something in pretty nearly every field. There was an even briefer description, giving his height as five feet two, his weight as 260 lbs, his eyes were recorded as being very dark grey or black, his hair colour black, his face and complexion generally florid, and he wore a beard. There was a radio synthestyle photograph, and that was all the information.
Don Cameron read through the information again, five 2, 260 lbs, must be quite a boy, he thought to himself, as he looked at the photograph and imagined it in colour. The face florid, the beard thick, black, heavy, almost blue black, a spade shaped beard. Reminded him vaguely of another picture he’d seen somewhere of another similar type, only this one had worn a top-hat. The name of course, had been different. It had only been someone in a work of fiction, but the similarity seemed very strange.
Challenger, that had been the name! Professor Challenger of the prehistoric Conan Doyle classics. This Anzar was almost like a real life version of Professor Challenger of literary fame—Now, why? That was another problem for the detective to chew on. Life, he decided, was getting altogether too complicated. He looked at the rest of the Anzar file, the age was unknown, there were no finger prints. None knew where Anzar had come from. No one knew anything about him, other than the fact that he had suddenly arrived at one of the world’s great Universities, and walked through a degree course as thought it was some kind of kindergarten exercise, and had gone on from university to university and professorship to professorship, finishing up with membership of the international Scientific Council. Then had come whispers of his experiments, his expulsion from the Council, three years ago. Nothing other than that was known of him, he was a man of mystery. He appeared to have come from nowhere. It was difficult to imagine Anzar as an alien. Whatever else he looked, he did look human. And then a sudden thought crossed Cameron’s mind. It was no more than the ghost of a theory and yet he knew that his hunches had paid off in the past—they might possibly pay off again. He wanted to know a great deal more about Anzar. It was becoming increasingly obvious to the young IPF lieutenant that there was only one way to find out. That would be to make a visit. But he still preferred to work in the old logical way—sitting in his office and gathering in the evidence. Not striking until the last possible moment. He waited until his sergeant returned with the information about Tom Farrow and the missing trees.
“You know, sir,” said the sergeant as he came in with a respectful grin. “I couldn’t help but think when you sent me off on that quest, that it was a devil of a long shot, and I found it a bit embarrassing wondering what to say. You can’t just walk up to a chap and say, ‘Excuse me, we’re checking on missing trees. Have you lost any lately?’ I mean, trees don’t usually stray do they sir?”
Cameron was grinning as well.
“I can tell by the happy smile on your face, sergeant,” he said “that something happened! He didn’t send you out with a ‘flea in your ear’ or even a tree in your ear!”
The sergeant groaned and made a flushing gesture at the weak pun. “No, I no sooner mentioned trees to him, and that we were checking on them, when the old boy looked at me and said, ‘Officer, you won’t think I’m crazy will you? But I’ll swear I had two trees more at the bottom of that field than I’ve got now.…’
“That started it, and out came the whole story. Two months ago he counted the trees and to his amazement there was one missing. The same thing happened”— the sergeant paused, “this is it, sir, this is the fact that will interest you——”
“Go on,” said Cameron. “No! Don’t! Let me tell you! The other one disappeared a day or two days before the accident?”
The sergeant opened his eyes in astonishment, “You’re nearly right sir. But it wasn’t two days before, it was the same day! The same day.”
Cameron crashed one enormous fist into the palm of the other, that was more than even he had hoped for. Things were moving he decided, things were moving with a vengeance. This crazy idea that had been no more than a hunch, was beginning to make a pattern. Don Cameron was beginning to see a faint gleam of daylight, through the thick tangle of congested facts.…
“Sergeant,” he said quietly, “there are a great many strange things that have been happening lately, and in my opinion the centre of those peculiar happenings is Doctor Anzar’s house on the cliff near the north highway. I’m taking a single seater car and going out there to find out what exactly has been going on. If I’m not back within three hours I want you to notify headquarters and come after me with a full squad car. We may be completely misjudging Anzar, this may be nothing more nor less than the long arm of coincidence, but I don’t trust it. I don’t like it one little bit. But I still haven’t got enough evidence to justify bursting in there with a whole squad of men. Besides, if Anzar is as much a genius as he appears to be and if there is any hoky-poky or
shady business going on, as soon as he sees a squad car coming he’ll hide the evidence.…”
“—or else he’ll put a tree in our way,” said the sergeant with sudden understanding.
“Either that or he’ll melt the road surface, or drop a hover car on our heads. If he’s that desperate a squad car will frighten him into desperate action, or rapid evasive action, and we don’t want him to pursue either course.”
“Of course not sir,” agreed the sergeant.
“I’m going in alone, and get this clear—three hours, bring every man you’ve got and blast me out!”
“Right sir!” answered the sergeant, “and sir——”
“Yes?” Cameron glanced round at him, their eyes met in a long searching look, they had been comrades-in-arms in several skirmishes in the past. “Best of luck sir,” said the sergeant.
“Thanks! I’ll probably need it!” He strapped on a heavy energy gun, checked the loading of the charges, and made his way down to the single seater police speed car, that was the officer’s station property. A few seconds later he was speeding north along the big highway towards the Anzar house. Just before the blasting mark appeared on the road he swung off down the narrow rather old-fashioned drive way. High above him perched on the cliff top, like some evil, malevolent, bird of prey the house of Anzar brooded down on all beneath it.