Greedy Plant

A Greedy Plant

Marjorie woke just as the first rays of Birmingham sunshine
filtered through her grubby window. She lay drowsily for a
while, looking forward to her fourth month's work at the
university. The automatic tea-maker began to make its
comforting whir. Marjorie was glad she had brought it with
her from London, because she found it hard to get going in the
mornings. Today she was excited about her work and though it
was only six o'clock in the morning, she was soon out of bed,
dressing so hurriedly that she put on her cardigan inside out.
The first bus put her down at the centre of the university
campus a full two hours before most of the staff and students
arrived.
She saw Brian walking away from the research laboratory along
the path which ran between the bookshop and the university
hospital. Brian Cunliffe, clean-shaven and grey-suited,
looked conventional but had unusual habits. He liked to work
at night, often leaving off at seven in the morning. This was
convenient for Marjorie because he left the back door of the
laboratory open and she was able to get in and start work
before the porters arrived.
"Marjorie!" said Brian brusquely, "I don't think you'll be
able to do any work today. There's a poisonous atmosphere in
the lab."
"What do you mean? Have you spilt some chemicals?" She
paused and looked at Brian, who seemed agitated and was now
gesticulating wildly.
"Don't go up the back stairs today," he said. "I've left a
notice on the back door but it's covered up now. You won't
see it."
"I don't understand. What's wrong?"
"I've had an accident. Don't go in there, please."
"What is it then?"
"An accident. An accident. Get Professor Rushmore to burn the
laboratory."
"You don't know what you are saying!"
"Please, please!"
"Brian, you should never have started working at night. It is
against regulations to work alone in the lab. Being on your
own so much is not good for you."
"But you're not bothering about the regulations yourself,
coming in so early."
"That's different!"
"Well, it's no good standing and talking. I'll just have to
show you something frightful."
He took Marjorie's arm and propelled her forward past the
hospital and down the path which led to the ivy-covered
building in which the research lab was housed. They paused at
the back of the building near a flight of stone steps leading
to a balcony, from which the lab could be entered.

"Now you'll see!" said Brian.
"What is it?"
"Look at the new light-green plant up there. It shows up
against the ivy."
"New plant? I don't see anything."
"Look now!"
A robin flew on to the balcony looking for crumbs from the
research students' sandwiches. Marjorie recognised this
particular bird, which she fed regularly. This time the robin
was the food. It disappeared into a gourd, something like an
enlarged Venus fly-trap. The plant had eaten the bird.

"How horrible, that was my pet bird," said Marjorie. "Who has
created this monstrosity?"
"I'm sorry said Brian. "I was doing it on the side - it
contains some DNA from a cat. I called it the fast-food plant
- it has grown too fast and eaten all the laboratory animals."

Ostensibly, Brian had been experimenting with a method of
extracting protein economically from leaves. All Marjorie had
seen of his work was a row of Kjehldahl flasks left dirty each
morning, where he had been determining the nitrogen content of
his samples, from which he calculated the percentage protein.
But as he worked at night, no-one saw too much. Marjorie
thought about the limits to genetic engineering indicated by
the ethics committee of this university, but this was not the
time to bring up the issue.

So she said, "Yes, we'll have to destroy these plants before
they escape into the environment."
"We'll have to set fire to them," said Brian. "No good trying
to get in through the back entrance. It's completely blocked
with foliage. Come on round the front where we can break a
window."
"Why haven't you done something before this? You looked as if
you were going to run away when I saw you."
"No, I wasn't. I was looking for you. I did not want to try
fire-raising alone."
"I see," said Marjorie. She did not like the look on his
face, but nevertheless followed him to the front entrance
where they broke a window and gained entrance to the stores.
It was easy to force open the barrier fitted over the counter.
They seized several bottles of petroleum ether and hurried up
the stairs. In the first-floor research lab the plant had
colonised half the floor space.
"It does not need soil - feeds off the air," said Brian.
"Needs water though; I kept it wet at first, then it seemed to
get enough moisture from the air."
They proceeded to soak everything with petroleum ether.

"You're sure there is no-one else in the building?" asked
Marjorie.
"No, there never is at night. Sometimes, someone as keen to
start work as you are, comes in at seven or eight in the
morning through the balcony entrance, but the porters make
sure all the other doors are locked."
"OK, then, we'll start the fire," said Marjorie, as she threw
a lighted taper on to the petroleum-soaked wooden benches,
partly covered by foliage. The fast-food plant had large
leaves; its gourds hung everywhere in a profusion of green,
brown and red. It was soon blazing furiously.

"We'll have to start another fire on the balcony where the
plant has escaped," said Brian, as they rushed away from the
flames.
When they were in the open air again at the back of the
building, Brian said, "Wait down below, Marjorie; I'll do
this."
He carried a bottle of petroleum ether up the steps to the
balcony and set fire to the foliage there. As he was coming
down, Marjorie noticed he was carrying a hollow glass globe.

"What is that?" she asked.
"This is an enclosed system - with sufficient water, air and
food for the plant growing inside. Some of its leaves die and
are recycled, providing food for the insects and shrimps
swimming in the water which eat the water-weed; it is an
enclosed ecological system - a safe way to keep the plant
which may be dangerous in the earth's own large ecosystem."

Marjorie looked at the globe and said, "I think we must
destroy that too. Or take it to show Professor Rushmore
first."
Brian pushed her roughly aside. "No, I am keeping this. It
is the only specimen and it's mine."
As Marjorie fell to the ground, he ran off across the deserted
sports fields. Marjorie picked herself up, thought she could
not catch up with him, and turned her attention to the blazing
building. The ivy which had covered the brick walls was now
on fire, and there was no trace of the new plant. It was
still only eight o'clock in the morning and no-one was about,
so Marjorie decided to call the fire brigade.

------------------
When Marjorie awoke, she found herself in a hospital ward.
"Why am I here?" she asked the doctor bending over her. "I
feel perfectly well."
"I want to ask you a few questions," he said. "Why was the
research lab on fire? Did you set fire to it?"
"Yes, there was a genetically dangerous species of plant
growing there, which we had to destroy."
"We?"
"Brian Cunliffe, another research student had developed a
plant with gourds like a Venus fly-trap, but larger, which was
eating birds."
"that sounds unlikely. Now, I'm going to give you an
injection."
The questions continued throughout the day, whenever Marjorie
was roused from her stupor sufficiently to answer, and she
realised that nobody believed her account of the incident.
Brian Cunliffe, the last person she wanted to see, visited her
in the evening.
"So you're blaming me for starting the fire," she said as soon
as she saw him.
"Nonsense, my dear!" He spoke loudly, so that nurses and
other patients would overhear. "You were overwrought." He
stroked his tie and smiled broadly. "Professor Rushmore took
a quick decision and sent you to a psychiatric ward for a
month's rest. He did not want to take you to court to face a
charge of arson."
"Brian, what have you done with that specimen of the plant?"
"No specimen exists," lied Brian. "You had a delusion because
you were overworking - getting to work too early, at seven
o'clock in the morning." His voice dropped to a whisper as he
continued, "The doctor noticed you had your cardigan on inside
out." Then he raised his voice again, so that bystanders
could hear and said, "When they heard you talking about a
plant which was eating up the birds, they guessed you were
having a nervous breakdown."
"You've persuaded them I'm psychotic, I suppose," said
Marjorie.
"Oh, you'll soon be over it. If you keep quiet you'll be out
in a month."
Marjorie swallowed hard. "Don't visit me again. I don't want
to see you."
"All right. I'll be off now." He produced a box of
chocolates. "Maybe this will cheer you up."
"Clever dick and so selfish," thought Marjorie, as she threw
the chocolates at his retreating figure.
They landed on the floor. Then she noticed another patient
picking them up. He went to sit with a group of about twenty
patients in the day-room; some were watching TV, but many were
slumped in their chairs. But this young man, fair-haired and
stocky, looked alert and friendly.
Marjorie approached him and said, "Do you want the
chocolates?"
"I'm not stealing," he said. "You threw them away."
"Don't worry. You can have them. But why are you in here?"
"Because I steal things."
"What things?"
"Well, I went to prison for burglary, then I got nervous
trouble in the cells, and they sent me here. I'll soon be out
with a job on a building site."
"Oh, so you're in here for nothing very much," said Marjorie.
"Like me. I was sent here by mistake."
"Oh, they all say that. But you only have to stay a month.
Keep quiet and you'll get out OK."
"You seem to know the system. By the way, I'm Marjorie."
"I'm John," replied the youth. "I'll tell you. I heard the
nurse say that you're on a section for 28 days. For
observation. If you keep quiet, they let you out then."
"When are you getting out?"
"In two weeks time."
The days passed and Marjorie found life on the ward just
tolerable, after she had got over the deadening effect of the
tranquillisers she had been given on arrival. By doing all
she was told, she was soon praised for good behaviour and
released as soon as the four weeks were over.
Not long afterwards, Marjorie and John met again by
arrangement outside Birmingham Central Library.
"Hello, John, are you OK?" said Marjorie when she saw him. "i
was released from hospital a few days ago. It's such a relief
to be back in the flat."
"I'm doing well," said John. "Labouring for a few weeks and
I'm studying part-time for building trade management."
"Well, we must get on with what we arranged to do," said
Marjorie. "I've found out Brian Cunliffe's address from the
electoral register. There were only four people of that name
on the list, and at my third call I struck lucky. He has a
first floor flat with an elderly widow as landlady. And he
works at night. I don't fancy this job. But I must do it."
"I don't fancy it either," said John. "I'm not going inside;
you do that."
"Me! Breaking and entering!" said Marjorie.
"Well, I'm not doing it. If I got caught, how could I explain
it? Me, an ex-prisoner? I want to go straight."
"All right," said Marjorie, " you're taking a risk by helping
me."
The couple sat in an all-night launderette until midnight and
then went to the address. John fiddled with some tools,
forced the downstairs sash window open and raised it quietly,
holding it up for Marjorie to enter. Then he made himself
scarce. Marjorie was surprised to find how easy it was. The
upstairs rooms were unlocked and deserted and the glass globe
was displayed on a side table. Marjorie had it in her hands
now.
All the way home on a night-time bus she cradled it, hiding it
under her coat. Alone again in her silent kitchen, for a
fleeting moment she wondered if she should take it to
Professor Rushmore to examine. But the evil was too pressing.
She carried the container gently to the gas stove and watched
with a growing sense of relief as the water in the container
boiled and the last remaining fast-food plant shrivelled and
died. 2177 words checked with original.