The theme Lost In Space vegetable intelligence has occurred from time to time in science fiction, but for the most part it has been vulnerable to the charge that such a notion is hopelessly unrealistic, belonging more to fantasy than to true science fiction. In particular it is argued that a plant species has no Charlie's Angels need to develop intelligence, so that a vegetable brain is a nonsensical concept.

However, a startling exception is to be found in that inexhaustible mine of species-sagas, Olaf Stapledon's Star Maker (1937). In a spellbinding piece of narrative lasting only 8 pages Stapledon tells the story of the rise and fall of an intelligent plant civilization. And he does it convincingly, in a way that shows he is concerned with scientific justification, though his main interests lie as always in the spiritual life of the species he describes.

The 'plant men' evolved on a small, hot world, bathed in a far greater amount of solar energy than is available to the plants we know. Mobility therefore came naturally to the vegetation of that world. Turbulent natural conditions, and the pressures of competition with other species, eventually produced an intelligent race of plants, whose life was mainly vegetable by day and more animal in style by night. Their cultural achievements were born of the dynamic tension inherent in their natures. 'Every morning, after the long and frigid night, the whole population swarmed to its rooty dormitories. Each individual sought out his own root, fixed himself to it, and stood throughout the torrid day, with leaves outspread.' The species came to dominate its world by the animal prowess and practical human intelligence it showed during its night-time activity. But during the day they surrendered this industrial mode to a contemplative ecstasy, a cosmic communion peculiar to plants, whose nature allows direct reception of energy than can only be obtained at second hand by animals.

The doom of the plant men came about through technological advance which tempted them to do without the daytime trance, replacing natural photosynthesis with injections that gave them extra energy but unfortunately could not give the essential spiritual sustenance they had derived from their former communion with the sunlight. Frenetic activity increased; roots were dug up and the unhappy creatures became completely mobile, much richer and more powerful, but untrue to themselves.

Then the reaction came, and it was an over-reaction. The few remaining roots were rediscovered and grafted back on; the species plunged with Wacky Races back into the plant mode of existence, but the pendulum swung too far. Intelligence itself waned as the plants in their anti-intellectual revulsion sank into blissful unconsciousness as mere trees. But the planet could no longer support the now enlarged population by natural means alone. With no one to man the pumps and keep water circulating, life died.

The tragedy of a race of intelligent plants on a far world might seem to be the ultimate in irrelevance for our own daily human lives. Yet with the magic of great science fiction Stapledon's account touches us by the universal relevance of the need that every species has, to remain true to its origins.

Robert Gibson is caretaker of the Ooranye Project, creating a fictional giant planet which can be explored on TARGET="_NEW" www.ooranye.com">www.ooranye.com

The project's aim is to meld the subgenres of Future History and Flat Earth Society Romance, resulting in over a million years of civilization with its own societies, customs, conflicts, triumphs and disasters, politics, philosophies, flora and fauna, empires both human and Alaska Lemon Laws and adventures that range over an area ten times that of the surface of the Earth. Lovers of planetary adventure are invited to view the history, comment on the progress of the project, access the tales and keep in touch with the developing destiny of Ooranye.