Biggs had been thinking furiously, a process which is always demonstrated by the way he shuffles from one foot to another. Now he snapped his fingers. "No--I've got it, Sparks. Something unusual. A real surprise. Something that will startle and delight her." "I know," I hazarded. "A new frock. You're going to whip it up in your spare time out of tarpaulin and old tablecloths." "No, Sparks, I'm going to give Diane--" He paused dramatically--"flowers. Fresh flowers!" I stared at him stupidly. And no cracks about how I couldn't very well do anything else. "Flowers?" I repeated. "But where in blazes are you going to get fresh flowers out here in the middle of space?" Biggs jerked a knuckly thumb in the general direction of the ship's hold. "Why, down there, of course. From our cargo bin." I stared at him disgustedly. "Oh, sure," I drawled. "Pardon me all to hell. I plumb forgot about them. But look: aren't you overlooking one tiny detail? Those blossoms are in what is technically known as the 'papoose' stage. Which means they're only about six weeks shy of blooming. Not to mention the fact that at present they're planted in air-tight lead containers." * * * * * Biggs shrugged easily. "Oh, _that_!" he scoffed. "A mere nothing. Haven't you ever heard of hydroponic culture, Sparks?" "Hydro-whichic-whature?" "Hydroponic culture," he repeated. "It's a method of growing plants artificially in tanks of water chemically treated with the constituents necessary to growth. It's very old. Over three hundred years." "Maybe so," I granted. "But those seeds are very young. And you've only got seventy-two hours to work in. Even with artificial culture, how are you going to bring them to full bloom in three days?" Biggs said happily, "That's the most wonderful part of it, Sparks. It so happens that only recently I have been conducting a series of experiments on plant culture. If my theories are right, I think I have discovered a way to speed up the growth of living vegetation tremendously. Of course, my ideas are still only in the experimental stage, but I'm practically certain they will work." I said, "Oh-oh!" and started for the door. Biggs stared at me anxiously. "What's the matter, Sparks? Where are you going?" "I don't know," I told him, "but wherever it is, it's a long way from here. I've had experience with inventions of yours before.[2] If you're going to start fiddling around again with things you don't know anything about--" [Footnote 2: For stories of Sparks' experiences with Lancelot Biggs' inventions, see copies of _Fantastic Adventures_ and _Amazing Stories_, 1940-1-2.--ED.] "But I _do_ know _all_ about it, Sparks," wailed Lancelot. "And I'm almost positive my plan will work. Now, be a good fellow, will you? Help me carry one of those lead containers up to that spare chamber on A Deck, and, let's see--I'll need a tank, a quart of vitamin B extract, an ultraviolet ray lamp--"