‘This is the Cerastes Botanica,’ said the aide, reaching a hand towards a large iron laboratory door at the end of a stone corridor that they had found their way to, ‘It’s the Baron’s mythical playground.’ She pushed the door open and indicated to Shaffra to enter; he did, and paused for a second to take in this room, which at first glance seemed like an entire forest contained in a castle tower. Struck by the splintered light falling on the stone floor, he looked up and saw the skeleton of a seemingly endless vertical invaded by plants of every description; huge, trollish oak trees fifty feet off the ground rested on distant stone bridges, their root systems dangling down and becoming lost in wall shafts; vines and ivies created vast grasslike expanses on the inner cylinder of the wall surface, from which ferns and bushes exploded in living colour. Windows, holes into the sky, their edges eaten by ravenous vines, brought light of incandescent vivacity into the tunnel, which filtered downwards through the leaves and came out like a monastic stillness at the bottom, where Shaffra stood. ‘The Baron has a contingent of scientists which are involved in the research of xenomorph organisms. This silo is one of a series on this estate’s science facility.’ ‘Where are the scientists?’ asked Shaffra, exploring the heights of the room with his eyes. ‘They are meeting today,’ the aide said, ‘They are consolidating their progress. The ultimate aim is to allow the flora to grow to such an extent that the ecosystem would be structurally independent, potentially allowing the stone scaffolding to be removed.’ Shaffra considered this. ‘Right now, those trees are merely resting on stone bridges,’ the aide continued, ‘In time, they will be suspended by the strength of their roots. A common system of vascular roots will allow the plants at higher strata to access water. It’s a biological supersystem.’