The dioecious (separate-sexed) arrangement is very common, if not the majority, among animals, but among plants, it is a comparative rarity, with the vast majority of flora being monoecious (dual-sexed), with either both male and female organs being present on the same flower, or on separate male and female flowers growing on the same plant. But, as with every rule in nature, there are exceptions: as is the case of some plants that exhibit behaviors one might more expect from animals.
In the windswept savannahs of equatorial Gestaltia, a common sight are gatherings of small, shrub-like citrus descendants, clustered together in groups of up to several dozen. But, at seemingly regular intervals, spaced far between, a single lone specimen stands out among the others: twice as tall as its neighbors, and reaching up to nine feet in height. While surrounding smaller trees bear fruit, ovoid, yellow grapefruit-like ones, these lone tall trees sport none, instead adorned by white flowers sporting long, pollen-laden central stalks. These giants of their kind stand firm in the centers of each fruiting grove, with a tangled mass of roots, snaking across the undergrowth, all traceable as belonging to the larger tree. These are gold-anthered stagroots (Dioeciocitron dimorphis): and this unusual appearance and arrangement is no mere coincidence--the groves are a harem of small females, protected by a large dominant male.
Such a statement might seem absurd, for after all, these are plants: and the idea of such mating arrangements sound something more in the line of animals, who court mates and defend them from rival males in dynamic, animated displays. Yet in their own silent, botanical way, nearly invisible to the naked eye, these dominant "bucks" stand vigil over their herd of "does", viciously protecting them from interlopers and claiming a large territory for themselves, fighting for the opportunity of breeding with the multiple females they share a territory with.
Such an unusual arrangement first came about when these dwarf trees first came to live in the windy savannahs, from seeds that dispersed from far away in the droppings of flying ratbats and pterodents. Strong air currents made it difficult for many flying insects, potential pollinators, to fly higher than a foot or two, so these unusual species instead took advantage of the weather and instead developed the ability to be pollinated by abundant and long-traveling wind currents sweeping through the savannah: male flowers being adorned with long, golden-yellow anthers that catch into the wind, spreading their powdery pollen far and wide, and female ones possessing conical structures with sticky surfaces that catch the pollen produced by male flowers that can then fertilize their ovaries and trigger the female flower's transformation into a fruit.
Remarkably, fertilized seeds acquire a set of genes from both the mother and the father that, depending on how they are arranged, affect how the plant grows, behaves, and interacts with other plants: functioning similarly to the sex chromosomes of animals. As such, as a seed takes root and begins to sprout in to a sapling, its sex is already predetermined: if the seed is a female, then it will grow at a rather slow rate and reach maximum height at just four to five feet. Its roots bore deeper into the soil without spreading sideways much, and it typically ignores the presence of most other plants, including other females of its own species.
But should the seed be a male, it exhibits a completely different set of what can almost be called "behaviors", despite their lack of a nervous system or any means of conscious intent in the way an animal might. Relying on "tropisms", autonomic responses to environmental signals, these male seeds quickly get to work establishing themselves, growing faster than a female and sending down a deep main root to anchor it in place. Once it reaches a sufficient size, then it quickly gets to work dominating its territory: around a large radius of up to a hundred meters or so, it sends lateral roots, closer to the surface, which feel their way about in search of the roots of other members of its species, attracted by chemical signals.
Should it find the roots of a nearby female, it will then be stimulated to share its accessory root system with its partner: a network of tiny rootlets, growing from the tips, surround the female's roots, as if gently enevloping it in a protective embrace. With this link, the male plant can share water and nutrients to the female, even releasing chemical signals into the soil that attract the roots of nearby females, advertising its quality as a protector and provider for them in a form of chemical courtship. Through this root system, the male plant can also use pheromones to signal to all the females connected to it to bloom simultaneously, allowing that the male's pollen is most likely to fertilize their flowers and enable them to bear fruit and produce viable seeds fathered by the male. Tropisms sensitive to the movement of wind guide its blooming patterns, increasing its flowering on the direction the wind blows the strongest, to maximize the odds of nearby females being pollinated.
But if the root encounters that of another male, a vicious battle ensues--at least, on a microscopic scale. Small rootlets grow out of the root tips, but this time, they latch on to the root of the rival male, and attempt to siphon them of nutrients and water, draining them dry. If similarly attacked themselves, the roots can coil defensively in an attempt to constrict the attacking rootlets and impede their flow of tissue fluids to choke or repel them. The roots of males fight fiercely, spreading out in a radius comparatively massive compared to a female's, and attacking any male roots located inside their territory, with the strongest male choking out, entangling, and draining its rivals dry, and killing off all competition within its home territory. The struggle for dominion is fierce, and only one male can conquer a territory: any male seedling that sprouts within the territory must grow quickly and fight with the dominant male in the hopes of eventually deposing them in order to survive, or else die trying, for the ruler's roots will show them no mercy. Around the area of the territory, any other male challengers will seemingly wilt for no reason, when viewed from the surface, but under the ground, an unseen conflict unfolds claiming the yellowing, withering male trees as its casualties.
Thus, while female stagroots grow together in close proximity and tolerant of one another, only one male can live and grow in the radius of one territory, any others attacked or killed by the most dominant one in its quest for supremacy. This way, a male tree, being sessile as are all plants, can assure the proximity of females that will recieve its pollen, bear fruit, and spread seeds that will be the male's genetic successors without the risk of a rival male pushing its way in to father some seeds in secret.
Interactions like these are a stark reminder that plants, too are not merely vegetative growths acting as backgrounds for animals, but themselves also fighting fierce battles against one another for survival, domination of their surrounding habitat and the ultimate goal of passing on their genes, albeit at a scale and speed too small, and too slow, as to be barely perceptible. While animals, by a long margin, are the more animated, complex and sophisticated of the two kingdoms, plants are no less alive, with all that definition entails: playing out a drama of their own struggles of life and death beneath the notice of the animal kingdom.
kaledo-art
2087
gummygunk
blakekathryn
titsay
annaxmalina
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