Seeders: A Novel by A. J. Colucci

Backster started a movement back in the sixties, remember, Jules? His experiments were supposed to show that plants have feelings, that they could think and read people’s minds. He had everyone talking to their plants.”
    “That’s stupid,” Monica huffed.
    “Surprisingly, I agree with you,” Jules said. “His experiments were hokum.”
    “What kind of experiments?”
    Isabelle explained that Backster was originally an interrogation agent with the CIA, specializing in lie detection. “One day, on a whim, he decided to attach his polygraph to the leaf of a Dracaena plant and see how long it took for water to reach the leaf.”
    Monica faked a yawn. “Gee, that’s exciting.”
    “Actually his polygraph test showed that plants react to external stimulation just like humans. When exposed to pain or pleasure, they exhibited the same excitement reaction. Then something really strange happened. He decided to burn a plant and went into another room to get matches. When he returned, the polygraph readings were off the charts. Just the thought of burning a leaf was enough to send the plant into full-blown panic.”
    “Yeah, right,” Monica said. “It’s some kind of trick.”
    “That’s what the skeptics thought, but his results caused quite a sensation at the time. Everyone was talking about it. He was on television and radio shows.”
    Jules shook his head. “Backster reduced the science of plant biology to the level of spoon bending. For scientists, it was an embarrassment. But George was keen to discover the truth. He brought all the research into a real laboratory and set up experiments with proper equipment, control groups, and careful analysis.”
    “And he proved Backster was a fraud?” Luke asked.
    “Well, not exactly.” Jules exchanged a look with Isabelle. “Some of his trials with the polygraph revealed similar results. But George came up with an entirely different theory. He believed that plants had memory and could learn. His studies were based on pure science, not telepathy or magic.”
    Isabelle nodded. “My father’s results caused a sensation of their own. The entire scientific world was amazed.”
    “So he was famous?” Luke asked.
    “For a while. He went on a transatlantic media tour, and was featured in a lot of American newspapers and magazines. Life magazine did an article on him.”
    “That is so cool,” Luke said.
    Jules read the back label on another tape. “This appears to be an early recording of George conducting a polygraph experiment.”
    “Can we watch it?” Luke asked Isabelle as he turned on the TV and a snowy screen came to life.
    “Might be fun,” she replied. “Sean, do you want to watch TV?”
    Across the room, the boy scowled and turned the page of the botany book.
    Luke blew dust off the tape and slipped it into the machine. He pressed the play button and an image emerged on the television.
    Isabelle was struck by her father in living color, smiling and animated just as she remembered. He was talking to five young men in a classroom, most likely his students. There was no sound, but he seemed to be instructing them.
    “I can’t get the volume to work,” Luke said. He pointed to one of the men. “Is that you, Dr. Beecher?”
    Jules nodded. “Yes, the tall skinny lad. It was my first year at Oxford when I met George. We did quite a few of these experiments.”
    “You weren’t bad looking,” Monica said. “Like a million years ago.”
    Luke tried the volume again. “Forget it. There’s no sound.”
    “I can tell you what’s happening.” Jules explained that George had gathered five of his botany students together for an experiment. They were all young men with longish hair and sideburns. They wore turtlenecks and plaid trousers.
    “You were going for groovy, huh?” Monica said.
    They watched the five students take turns pulling slips of paper from a gray fedora.
    “We chose from the hat which of us would play the role of murderer. You see,