significant.

By the evening, the metallic monolith was as high as a three-storied building, and as complex as a forest.

"What will it do now?" asked Turran as he sucked on a can of drink.

"Well," said Brad, thoughtfully, "If it's designed to mimic the plants we are used to on this planet, and I think that is precisely what it is designed to do, it will soon develop some sort of seed. This may take many forms. It may rely on wind for dispersal, or water. It may use heat, or even light. I doubt whether it will be the burr type of seed, unless the planet it comes from is inhabited by creatures that have thick far. On the other hand, it may shoot its seeds out, like the broom bush, which has exploding pods."

"Or it might use rockets?" suggested Turran.

"Or rockets," agreed Brad with a wry smile.

As they watched and waited, a new thing began to happen with the plant. It began to grow a single stem, which rose from the centre, higher and higher, until it was at least as tall as the tallest building in the world. Its top was lost in the gathering darkness of the desert and the faint glimmering stars. And as the central spike rose into the sky, the surrounding masses of walls and roots began to disintegrate and fall apart. For over hours, the desert was filled with the sound of metal parts and pieces crashing and tinkling against other metal parts as the base of the enormous structure dismantled itself. It was as if every piece of metal in the whole world was being tipped continuously over a cliff. It was a sound that filled the mind, shredding it with jagged discord. A crashing, crumbling, smashing waterfall of noise.

"That's about all we'll see for tonight," said Brad, when the cacophony finally stopped. In the last glow of the day, the silhouette of broken metal lay like a rough hill in the darkness. Nothing else was visible. The silence of the evening closed in and the moon pierced the horizon. It rose like a fingernail, white and cold.

……………………….

As the first light of dawn blushed the sky, Turran opened his sleepy eyes and looked. The sharp, narrow spike pointed straight up into the morning. It caught the rising sun and blazed with crimson, like a knife of light against an emerald cloth. At the very top were several short arms, with round spheres on them, and above the arms was a canopy, like a parasol, made of spikes. Brad and Turran examined the structure through the binoculars.