Mr. Biggs goes to town

"--and because of its magnificent service record on behalf of the Corporation, your ship is being assigned to new duties. Henceforth, the Saturn will lift gravs only on special tasks, assignments of vital importance which have proven too difficult for ordinary vessels of the fleet."

Well! That was something like! At last our efforts--or should I say the whackypot genius of Lancelot Biggs?--had earned us recognition. My weskit buttons tugged at their moorings; and glancing at my comrades, I saw they shared my pride. Cap Hanson's huge grin threatened to slice off the top of his head, while Lancelot Biggs' sensitive Adam's-apple was galloping up and down in his throat like a runaway yo-yo.

"Well, now!" said Hanson, gratified. "That bein' the case, I can quite understand why physical exams are necessary, sir. But do you feel that _everyone_--?"

"Everyone," nodded the Vice-president, "from highest to lowest. Everyone aboard this ship. Yes, Captain Hanson. Those orders have been issued, and cannot be altered."

Biggs gurgled happily, "Tell them what our first assignment is, Uncle Prenny."

"Ah, yes. Of course, Lancelot. Captain Hanson, you are doubtless cognizant of the--er--delicate situation upon the planetoid Iris?"

"Delicate!" I snorted. Of course Cap knew about it. We all did. It was the top-ranking scandal of the decade. A group of privateers, seeking a base from which to pursue their nefarious exploits, had established themselves upon innocent, helpless little Iris. There, though it was plain to everyone that the diminutive, rodent-like Irisians were being actually held in peonage, the corsairs had set up a puppet government, thereby procuring territorial rights against which the Interplanetary Council could not file demurrer. So:

"Delicate!" I snorted. "That situation smells worse than pole-pussy perfume in a telephone booth! What the Space Patrol ought to do is go in there and grab those rascals--"

"Sparks!" frowned the Old Man. "That will do!" But he turned questioning eyes to his superior. "Why doesn't the Space Patrol do something about it, sir?"

"Because," pointed out Uncle Prenny, "the privateers are--speaking from a purely legal standpoint--quite within their rights. The Patrol cannot move against them because to do so would be to violate the standards of freedom upon which the Interplanetary Union is founded."

"But everybody knows they're crooks ... pirates...."

"True. 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. With such power, it was an easy matter to pass laws forbidding exercise of Space Patrol rights of search and apprehension ... extradition ... prohibiting further immigration of peoples from civilized planets...."

I said, "Hey, wait a minute! There's one thing they can't do! According to interplanetary law, no government can forbid the right of free trade, barter and exchange!"

Lancelot's uncle smiled.

"Absolutely right, Sparks," he agreed. "And that is where we come in!"

A dead silence followed his pronouncement. Then the air began sizzling with a hot, frying sound. That was Hanson preparing to blow a verbal fuse. He exploded like a retread on a hot day.

"_So!_" he roared. "So that's the kind of a company I been workin' for all these years? Well, Vice-president, here's my rocket--" He tore his precious spaceman's emblem from his breast and hurled it to the floor--"and here's my brevet--" He ripped the golden epaulets from his coat, and heaved them after the rocket--"and the hell with you and the I.P.C., sir! Any outfit which would be so stinkin' niggardly as to trade with a crew of scoundrels like that--"

Lanse Biggs said mildly, "Now, Dad! Don't be hasty. After all--"

The Old Man stared at his First Mate and son-in-law sadly. "You, too, Lancelot? I'm disappointed in you, my boy. I never thought you'd fall in line with--"

Biggs' uncle said, "You are a very impetuous person, Captain Hanson. If you will let me continue--"

"I don't want to hear no more," growled Hanson. "Go 'way and leave me alone!"

"But let Uncle Prenny tell you, Dad!" pleaded Biggs.