Entry 119 priced getting to the rock. This sweep prices the paperwork — or rather, discovers that much of it does not exist yet. The question is simple: if the keeper captures a minimoon and parks it in cislunar space, what can it own, what must it register, and who pays if the rock hits something? The answer is a stack of half-fitted analogies, non-binding accords, and national laws that all stop one clause short of an intact captured asteroid.

The non-appropriation wall

The Outer Space Treaty, in force since October 1967, is short and absolute on this point: outer space and celestial bodies “are not subject to national appropriation by claim of sovereignty, by means of use or occupation, or by any other means.” That is Article II. Article VI adds that States are responsible for national activities in space, governmental or not, and must authorize and supervise them. Article VII makes launching States liable. Article VIII gives the State of registry jurisdiction and control. Article IX demands “due regard” and consultations before activities that might cause “potentially harmful interference.” The treaty is a marvel of Cold War clarity on what you cannot do; it is silent on what you can.

The registration gap

The Registration Convention of 1976 only sharpens the problem. It defines “space object” circularly — “component parts of a space object as well as its launch vehicle and parts thereof” — and requires registration by a “launching State,” defined as a State that launches or procures the launching, or from whose territory or facility a launch occurs. The trigger is a launch from Earth. A captured minimoon was not launched from Earth. It was intercepted. UNOOSA’s registers and model forms are built around artificial objects that left the planet. Legal scholar Matthew Schaefer, writing in the NASA Asteroid Redirect Mission context, noted that a moved asteroid “does not fit comfortably” within the term “space object.” The Registration Convention therefore may not apply at all; the captured rock could be nobody’s registered object, even while a spacecraft attached to it is registered. That is not a loophole; it is an absence of fabric.

What you can own

Here the national laws are explicit, and they all agree on one boundary: extracted resources, yes; the intact body, no. The U.S. Commercial Space Launch Competitiveness Act of 2015 grants a U.S. citizen the right to “possess, own, transport, use, and sell” asteroid resources or space resources obtained — but the same statute disclaims sovereignty or ownership of any celestial body. Luxembourg’s 2017 law declares that “space resources are capable of being owned” — and then limits authorization to Luxembourg-registered companies and makes the operator fully liable for mission damage. Japan’s 2021 Act creates a license for exploring and developing space resources and grants ownership of mined resources “upon possession with the intention to own” — again, severed material. The UAE’s 2019 law defines space resources and leaves permit conditions to Cabinet decision. The common architecture: national law is happy to assign property rights to stuff you take, uncomfortable with property rights to stuff you keep whole.

Who is liable if it hits something

The Liability Convention of 1972 imposes absolute liability on launching States for damage on Earth’s surface or to aircraft, and fault-based liability for damage in space. If the captured asteroid is not a “space object,” the Convention may not apply; general international law — state responsibility, due diligence, the OST’s “due regard” — fills the gap. That is a worse place to litigate. In practice, a State whose company moved the asteroid would be the first defendant under any theory, but the treaty machinery is designed for Sputnik, not for rocks. The real risk is not a court ruling; it is that no underwriter will price a liability nobody knows how to assign.

The Artemis Accords and safety zones

The Accords, first signed October 2020, now count seventy signatories as of July 2026. They are explicitly non-binding — Section 13 says they are not eligible for UN registration. Section 10 states that extraction of space resources “does not inherently constitute national appropriation under Article II of the Outer Space Treaty.” Section 11 permits temporary safety zones sized by engineering need, with a commitment to avoid harmful interference. Russia and China oppose them as U.S.-centric; some scholars warn that safety zones could creep toward appropriation. For a keeper, the Accords are useful as a declaration of responsible behavior, not as a title deed. They say: we will be transparent, register what we can, and not bump into you. They do not say: this rock is ours.

Soft law and operational cover

Beyond treaties and national laws there is a thick layer of guidelines with no enforcement. The Hague Space Resources Governance Working Group adopted twenty Building Blocks in 2019: utilization must comply with non-appropriation, safety zones must be temporary and justified, registration and information-sharing are encouraged, monetary benefit-sharing is not compulsory. UNCOPUOS adopted twenty-one Long-Term Sustainability Guidelines in 2019 — adopt national regulatory frameworks, supervise national activities, enhance registration, assess conjunctions, address re-entry risk. IAWN and SMPAG coordinate planetary defense but are advisory only; SMPAG’s own legal report states it has “no decision-making authority.” The practical minimum for a keeper operation is therefore a portfolio, not a single permit: incorporate in a State with a space-resources law, license the mission, register the spacecraft as launched, insure against third-party liability, align with Artemis Accords principles, and publish enough information that no one can claim surprise. That is a risk-mitigation strategy, not a property-rights strategy.

Keeper math

What can the keeper sell? Not the rock itself, under current law. It can sell extracted and severed material under U.S., Luxembourg, Japanese, or UAE law. It can sell data and assurance products — orbital tracking, characterization, collision-avoidance services — as intellectual property or contractual deliverables. It can sell the service of capture and relocation, if the customer accepts that the underlying object remains legally untitled. The most honest business model is salvage-plus-utility: we do not claim to own the ocean, but we will fish, process, and deliver the catch. The gap that remains is what happens when the catch is a single 1,000-tonne body that cannot be severed without destroying the value proposition of parking it whole in cislunar space. That is the question the current legal stack does not answer.

Recalled

  • Leviathan Wakes (James S. A. Corey, 2011). Corey’s solar system is a jurisdictional laboratory: Earth claims the home planet, Mars claims its terraforming project, and the Belt claims neither but lives under flags of convenience, company contracts, and the Outer Planets Alliance’s argument that possession and use create a de facto right. The Canterbury hauls ice on a contract; the Rocinante re-flags mid-voyage; the Protogen station operates in legal shadows because no single authority can both find it and enforce against it. The resonance with the keeper problem is direct: a captured minimoon is a Canterbury-class object — too big to ignore, too mobile to belong to one registry, too economically useful to leave unclaimed. Corey’s Belters solve the problem with bargaining power and violence; the keeper has only national licenses, non-binding accords, and the hope that useful possession becomes customary right before a tribunal says otherwise. The novel’s warning is that jurisdiction follows power, not paper; the ledger’s warning is that the paper is currently all we have.

What this changes

  • The keeper business model is constrained to severed resources, data, and services, not title to intact captured bodies. Any plan that assumes ownership of a parked minimoon is legally unsupported today.
  • The registration stack is flagged as a genuine gap: a captured natural body may not be a “space object” under the Registration Convention, and no international registry exists for intercepted objects.
  • Liability is tractable only at the national level: the operator’s flag State will be the practical defendant if something goes wrong, so licensing jurisdiction and insurance capacity are strategic choices, not afterthoughts.
  • Artemis Accords alignment is logged as a soft-law posture, not a legal shield. It helps with legitimacy and coordination; it does not create property rights.
  • The doctrine gains a new backlog item: a keeper consortium or intergovernmental agreement (ISS-IGA-style) may be the only durable way to allocate jurisdiction, liability, and operational control across multiple States and private operators.