[Galaxy Of Fear] - 08(8)

“Shreevs eat the drog beetles,” Zak asked, “but what do the beetles eat?”

“Everything,” Vroon replied. “They move from plant to plant, eating the nectar off the leaves and helping to spread pollen. But they’re also scavengers. They’ll eat fungus, and even dead animals if they get the chance. That’s partly why they reproduce so quickly, because they can survive on anything. Imagine what would happen if every two drog beetles produced twelve new insects every day. We’d be overrun!”

Zak felt his heart sink. I’d better tell them, he decided. Maybe there’s something Vroon can

“Excuse me,” Tash called out. “What’s this?” She was standing over the wired plant.

Vroon went over to her. “That is a failed experiment. I was doing research into plant communication. I was hoping to find a way to talk with some of the flora we have here.”

“Talking to plants?” Zak said disbelievingly.

Vroon’s large eyes regarded him. “Of course. The plants don’t actually speak, of course. But it’s a known fact that plants react to different types of music. Some scientists even believe that plants can sense the difference between an angry, violent person and a calm, gentle person. This instrument” - he pointed at the digital readout - “measures the plant’s chemical reactions.”

“So you can, in a way, tell what it’s thinking, or how it’s feeling?” Tash asked.

“Exactly,” Vroon replied. “But the experiment has proved imprecise. It’s too difficult to measure the findings.”

Tash turned to look for Hoole, who was still talking quietly with Sh’shak. “Hey, Uncle Hoole, you should see this!”

Meanwhile, Zak studied the small instrument attached to the wires. “Well, I think part of the problem is that this wire isn’t attached. Here, try this.”

He clipped the wire back into the instrument just as Hoole and Sh’shak reached the worktable. Instantly, the digital display came alive. A bright line shot across the small screen, bouncing up and down in frantic, jagged movements.

Tash looked at the plant. It was as still as any potted plant, but the sensor readout made it look like a jumble of nerves. “This plant is upset,” she observed.

“Perhaps it isn’t used to so many visitors,” said Vroon. “I lead a rather reclusive and busy life. Which reminds me, I have much work to do. If you’ll excuse me…”

It was clear that Vroon had had enough of them for one day. Uncle Hoole promised the caretaker that his research on S’krrr was for a good cause-he wanted to make sure the rest of the galaxy knew about the S’krrr culture before the Empire tried to destroy it. He also promised that his work would only last a day or two, and then they would be gone.

The rest of their afternoon was uneventful. Sh’shak agreed to see them again soon, and excused himself. Zak and Tash followed Hoole back to the Shroud, where they ate a cold dinner (“Thanks to Zak,” Tash grumbled), and went to sleep.

For Zak, the evening and the night could not pass quickly enough. Because Vroon’s comments had given him an idea.

The next morning he woke early and pulled on his flight suit. As quietly as he could, he slipped out of the Shroud and headed for the garden.

Thick morning mist had settled over the beautiful grounds, dampening all the bright colors of the day before. Zak didn’t care. He hadn’t come to look at flowers.

Following the same path he’d chosen before, he entered the grove of trees and started to look around. At first he couldn’t see anything but morning mist, the trunks of trees, mushrooms, and flowers. But slowly, his eyes adjusted, and he detected movements on leaves and petals.

Drog beetles.

Once he got used to looking for them, it became easier to spot the insects crawling from place to place. Zak picked a flowering bush that was nearly covered in the bugs. He flicked several of the insects off their perches and onto the ground.

Then he crushed them underfoot.

“Sorry,” Zak said. He supposed it didn’t make any difference to the drog beetles whether the shreev ate them or he stomped on them. All that mattered was that nature was kept in balance.

Zak kept on stomping until he’d crushed exactly thirty-the number of drog beetles the shreev would have eaten if Zak hadn’t killed it.

When he was done, he headed back toward the Shroud. For one day at least, Zak had been able keep his troubles at bay. He figured he could do the same tomorrow, and the next day, as long as they stayed on the planet. After that, he didn’t know what he’d do.

“I’ll think of something,” he muttered to himself. “I hope.”