"I don't get it, sir! You mean we're going into some kind of business
on Iris?"
"Precisely, Sparks."
"But--but _what_? Iris is just a bleak little hunk of rock swinging
in the Asteroid Belt. It doesn't have any soil to grow things in, any
bodies of water to fish in. It doesn't _have_ any 'natural resources'
we can develop. So what excuse are we going to offer for barging into
Iris?"
* * * * *
"We need no excuse for barging in, Sparks," pointed out Lancelot Biggs
soberly. "It is our right and privilege to do so. All we need do is
claim we mean to develop a new natural industry, and by space law they
are forced to admit us for a ten day investigatory period. If by the
end of that time we have proven our right to remain, they must let us
do so. 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. 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."
And that, lads and lassies, was Jolt No. 3! I knew about the Iris
situation, but this was the first time I had ever heard the name of
its kingpin and instigator. Hearing it, I winced. Steichner! Otto
Steichner! The cunningest, meanest, toughest unhanged scoundrel who
ever shoved a baby through an airlock--he was our antagonist!