stretched across a hollow interior--by which it could
make buzzing sounds. Nelsen knew that, like any Earthly green plant, it
produced oxygen, but that, instead of releasing it, it stored the gas in
spongy compartments within its horny shell, using it to support an
animal-like tissue combustion to keep its vitals from freezing during
the bitterly frigid nights.

Nelsen also knew that deeper within the thing was a network of whitish
pulp, expanded at intervals to form little knobs. Sectioned, under a
microscope, they would look like fibred masses of animal or human nerve
and brain cells, except that, chemically, they were starch and cellulose
rather than protein.

Worst to see was the rigid clutch of monster's tactile organs, which
grew from the barrel's crown. It was like a powerful man struggling to
uproot a rock, or a bear or an octopus crushing an enemy. It was
dark-hole drama, like something from another galaxy. Like some horribly
effective piece of sculpture, the tableau in the box preserved the last
gasp of an incautious youth in armor.

The tendrils of the thicket plant were furred with erect spines of a
shiny, russet color. They were so fine that they looked almost soft. But
Nelsen was aware that they were sharper than the hypodermic needles they
resembled--in another approach to science. Now, Nelsen felt the tingling
revulsion and hatred.

"Of course you know that you don't have to get caught like that poor
bloke did," Huth said dryly. "Just not to disinfect the outside of your
Archer well enough and then leave it near you, indoors, is sufficient.
I was here before there was any trouble. When it came, it was a
shambles..."

Huth eyed Nelsen for a moment, then continued on another tack.
"Biology... Given the whole universe to experiment in, I suppose you can
never know what it will come up with--or what is possible. These
devils--you get to hate them in your sleep. If their flesh--or their
methods--were something like ours, as was the case with the original
Martians or the people of the Asteroid Planet, it wouldn't seem so bad.
Still, they make you wonder: What would you do, if, in your own way, you
could think and observe, but were rooted to the ground; if you were
denied the animal ability of rapid motion, if you didn't have hands with
which to fashion tools or build apparatus, if fire was something you
could scarcely use?..."

Nelsen smiled. "I _am_ wondering," he said. "I promise to do a lot more
of