"You are _two_ very impetuous men," decided Prendergast Biggs, "and I am surprised that you could think your employers would--but never mind. Let me assure you that we have no intention of dealing with these criminals on a friendly basis. On the contrary, we are going to do our utmost to break their grip on the suffering citizens of Iris. "As Sparks has already commented, there is one thing the usurpers of Iris _cannot_ legally do. That is, forbid the right of free trade and commerce between other planets and the captive Irisians. "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. 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. "That, gentlemen, is the entering-wedge with which we plan to crack the defenses of these tyrants who hold Iris in their grip!" I stared at him confusedly. "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--"