Nelson S. Bond

“ Cap Hanson—he's the skipper of our space-shuttling freighter, the Saturn—bridled like a mick at an Orangeman's Ball. If there's one thing he cannot tolerate, it is hearing anyone else issue orders on his bridge. ”

“ I said, "That's the end of the chapter, Skipper. For three years the Saturn has been the finest ship in the fleet. We've done more tough jobs and had more fun than any bunch of spacemen who ever lifted gravs under the same emblem. But it ends now. When Lanse Biggs leaves this ship, nothing will be the same ever again." ”

“ Although Cap looked hale and hearty, his joints were beginning to stiffen like a mud-pie on Mercury, and sometimes, if you stood beside him in a quiet room, you could hear the dim clank and clatter of his arteries hardening. A physical examination might mean an end to his long career, exile from active service to the waffletail job he had long dreaded. ”

“ The problem before the board is—"
"I was just wondering," commented Biggs, "how there should be a lake on the planetoid Iris—and why? As we know, there are no natural bodies of water on this tiny orb. Therefore they must be artificial—"
"All right," growled the skipper, "so they're phoney! Maybe Steichner's got a sense of beauty!"
"Sure," I agreed. "What he likes best is a lovely dagger, attractively decorated with nice, fresh blood. Cap's right, Biggs. We're not here to marvel at the scenic wonders of Iris. We've got a job to do, and we're getting nowhere—fast!" ”

“ You have been given every legal opportunity, Mr. Donovan. You have been here on Iris exactly five and one half Solar Constant days. If, within ten days after your arrival, you have not demonstrated your ability to produce a commercial commodity heretofore undeveloped on this planet, you will be asked to leave."
I rose. "O.Q., Steichner," I told him grimly. "You hold the chips, now. But let me tell you this—if we do find what we're looking for, and gain the right to remain on Iris, our first move will be to call in the Space Patrol to protect our property. ”

“ And we, being on Iris, can then call upon the Space Patrol to 'protect' our property ... the Patrol can move in ... and wipe out the pirates."
"Sure!" snorted Cap Hanson. "Sure, that all sounds swell! But in ten measly days what new industry are we goin' to develop on Iris? Like Sparks says, they ain't no natural resources."
"Oh, that?" smiled Biggs' uncle Prendergast. "Why, that has already been arranged. We are going to make—soap!"
"S—soap!" gasped Cap Hanson.
"Soap!" I bleated. "Pardon me all to hell, sir, but somebody's crazy! Soap isn't a natural resource. ”

“ In short, strangers may visit Iris, but they cannot stay there."
"Then, why—?" began the Old Man.
"However," continued the Vice-president, "there is a loophole they have overlooked. That is the clause in interplanetary law which reads: 'Any person or group of persons who discover, create or otherwise develop a hitherto undeveloped industry dependent upon the natural resources of any planet in the system are granted the privilege of establishing settlement upon that body for a period not to exceed thirty-five Solar years.'"
He smiled at us. ”

“ We can't do no diggin' for soap without something to dig in. O.Q. Go ahead and make the deal, Sparks."
"And I," chimed in Biggs, "will organize the men and get to work on the digging—"
"No!" said Hanson hastily. "You mustn't exert yourself like that, boy. Remember your—"
He stopped abruptly. Lancelot glanced at him.
"What? Remember my what, Dad?"
"Nothin'. You stay here and direct the men; I'll get 'em onto the job."
So we became possessors of a bit of Iris terrain and set forth on the adventure which—we hoped—was to bring an end to Otto Steichner's rule over the tiny planetoid. ”

“ But by glancing back over the pages of man's history you will learn that it is always the crooks who twist law to serve their own evil purposes.
"These privateers moved to Iris, became citizens of that planetoid. Then, by brute force, they seized control of the political machine, voted themselves into governing power. ”

“ Steichner said silkily, "You do us an injustice, Mr. Donovan. We who control the government of Iris operate within the law at all times. That is why we find no need of allowing the Space Patrol within our sphere. ”

“ My guess about the lake was right. It is the hiding place of his fleet. Steichner will flee there now, man his ships, and lie in wait for the Patrol. When the fleet arrives—"
I said, "Well, then, golly—let's lift the Saturn out of here! Beat it out into space, and stop the Fleet—?"
But Biggs shook his head.
"No—I have a better plan than that. Oh, Chief—" He called to Chief Engineer McMurtrie who, dripping with fuel oil and pride, was hobbling back toward the ship for a change of clothing—"nice work on that drill. Tell the men to cap the well for the time being. ”

“ We made a simple request for permission to land. We are an exploring expedition attempting to set up a new industry under spacecode regula—"
"I know all about that," growled Steichner. "Well, you're wasting your time, Captain. Iris has no natural resources, and wants no colonists. You'd better try somewhere else."
Cap said stolidly, "My Company's instructions—"
"Your Company be damned!" roared Steichner, his neck thickening darkly. "I control Iris, and I want no busybodies interfering with my—"
Biggs moved forward to the visor plate. When I say moved, I mean exactly that. ”

“ It doesn't grow on trees or come up out of mines. You make it out of oil and fats and—"
"We're not thinking of that kind of soap, Sparks. I mean the form of hard soap used by miners, grease-monkeys and other manual laborers. Soap made out of pumice-stone. Our geological reports indicate that Iris, being composed mainly of igneous rock formations, is rich in pumice. All we have to do is locate an area rich in this material, start mining operations, and—bingo! We have Steichner and his crew of rascals right where we want them." ”

“ The foremost was that of my long-time friend and shipmate, Lieutenant Lancelot Biggs; behind him was his uncle Prendergast, 1st Vice-president of the I.P.C. It was the older Biggs who spoke.
"It's all right, Sparks. These men are acting under company orders. They are medical officers assigned to give a physical examination to every man aboard the Saturn."
"Every man?" choked Cap Hanson. "Did you say every man, sir?" ”

“ I'm sorry, Donovan. I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, but there is one unfavorable report. The examiners have declared one man aboard the Saturn to be absolutely unfit for space travel. His heart is so bad that it may give out at any minute. That man is—First Officer Biggs! ”

“ He's trying to make a purchase of some real estate, Sparks. It don't matter much just where he buys, so long as he buys. The whole asteroid's honeycombed with pumice pockets, you see. All we got to do is buy up some land, start diggin', produce hard soap and earn the right to remain here. ”

“ On the other hand, they can forbid the establishment of any community, outpost, or permanent trading-station upon their planetoid. They can prevent unwanted outsiders from becoming citizens of their base. ”