He spent a week figuring out the remote controls that operated the planting machinery. Once it clanked into operation, it worked entirely on its own. He had only to push a few buttons to send it lumbering in new directions and the big island steadily took on a resemblance to a huge strawberry patch while Channing fished and lounged in the sun. When the galactic trade agent came, the strawberries were waiting for him, neatly piled into a mountain of gleaming cans. He was a friendly, talkative little man, glad to exercise his tongue again after the lonely months in space. "What are you growing here?" he asked Channing. "Strawberries." The friendly smile disappeared. "Every planet in the Galaxy seems to be growing strawberries this year. I can't even give them away." "But I thought the Ursa Major colonies--" The little man shook his head. "So does everyone else. There's a million tons of strawberries the colonies can't use headed there already. Now if it was upklin seeds--" "Upklin seeds?" The agent looked at him in surprise. "You mean you haven't heard about upklin seeds?" "No. Not a thing." "Well, of course, you are a newcomer. It's this new race that's been discovered somewhere in The Sack. They are as rich as all get-out and they have a passion for upklin seeds. Trouble is they can't grow them on local planets and they are offering fancy prices to anybody that can supply them. I paid a thousand credits a bushel for them to your next-door neighbor on the fourth planet last week. Got a hundred bushels." Channing did a bit of mental arithmetic. A hundred thousand credits for one crop. Whew! "Could I grow them here?" The agent shook his head. "You need plenty of soft marsh and a Jupiter-type atmosphere." Then he had a sudden idea and he spoke long and seriously to Channing, explaining quite a few things that were new to him. Channing was still considering them, staring thoughtfully at the ground, after the little man left. * * * * * Next day Channing took off for the nearest sub-space center and a few hours later he was in Mr. Folan's office at Planet Enterprises, gingerly balancing his cap on his knee. Mr. Folan's sleek head nodded as Channing made his points and when he was finished the executive pressed a buzzer and called for the file. "You realize, Mr. Channing," he said conversationally, as he turned over the pages, "that what you are asking will be a most expensive undertaking." "I know that," Channing said eagerly, "but upklin seeds are such a sure-fire proposition that I thought Planet Enterprises might be willing to do the job on a percentage basis." Mr. Folan wrote some figures on the margin of the folder and considered deeply. "Yes," he said at last, "I think it would work out on a seventy-thirty split." "Seventy-thirty?" Mr. Folan inclined his head graciously. "Seventy per cent for Planet Enterprises and thirty for yourself." Channing said slowly, "That's a bit steep."