Schmidt leaned over the planter for a look. The dirt in the planter had been flung about and below it he could see a large, fibrous bulge with a meter-long seam running across its top surface.

Another bark. From inside the bulge.

“Holy shit,” Schmidt said.

“I know,” Wilson said.

“It’s like a Venus flytrap or something,” Schmidt said.

“Which is not a good thing for the dog,” Wilson pointed out.

“What do we do?” Schmidt asked, looking at Wilson.

“I don’t know,” Wilson said. “That’s why I called you in the first place, Hart.”

The dog barked again.

“We can’t just leave him down there,” Schmidt said.

“I agree,” Wilson said. “I am open to suggestion.”

Schmidt thought about it for a moment and then abruptly took off in the direction of the entrance to the garden. Wilson watched him go, confused.

Schmidt reemerged a couple of minutes later with an Icheloe, dusty and garbed in items that were caked with dirt.

“This is the garden groundskeeper,” Schmidt said. “Talk to him.”

“You’re going to have to translate for me,” Wilson said. “My BrainPal can translate what he says for me, but I can’t speak in his language.”

“Hold on,” Schmidt said. He pulled out his PDA and accessed the translation program, then handed it to Wilson. “Just talk. It’ll take care of the rest.”

“Hi,” Wilson said, to the groundskeeper. The PDA chittered out something in the Icheloe language.

“Hello,” said the groundskeeper, and then looked over to the planter that had swallowed the dog. “What have you done to my planter?”

“Well, see, that’s the thing,” Wilson said. “I didn’t do anything to the planter. The planter, on the other hand, ate my dog.”

“You’re talking about that small noisy creature the human ambassador brought with it?” the groundskeeper asked.

“Yes, that’s it,” Wilson said. “It went into the planter to relieve itself and the next thing I know it’s been swallowed whole.”

“Well, of course it was,” the groundskeeper said. “What did you expect?”

“I didn’t expect anything,” Wilson said. “No one told me there was a dog-eating plant here in the garden.”

The groundskeeper looked at Wilson and then Schmidt. “No one told you about the kingsflower?”

“The only thing I know about it is that it’s a colony plant,” Wilson said. “That most of it exists under the dirt and that the flowers are the visible part. The thing about it being carnivorous is new to me.”

“The flowers are a lure,” the groundskeeper said. “In the wild, a woodland creature will be drawn in by the flowers and while it’s grazing it will get pulled under.”

“Right,” Wilson said. “That’s what happened to the dog.”