_Raven-haired, seductive Darling Toujours'
smoke-and-flame eyes kindled sparks in hearts
all over the universe. But it took sweet old
Grandma Perkins, of the pirate ship_ Dirty
Shame, _to set the Jupiter moons on fire_.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories March 1954.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"I can always get along with a man if he remembers who he is," said
Darling Toujours, the raven-haired, creamy-skinned televideo actress
whose smoke-and-flame eyes lit fires in hearts all over the solar
system. She was credited with being the most beautiful woman alive and
there were few who dared to contradict her when she mentioned it.
"And I can always get along with a woman if she remembers who _I_ am,"
replied Carlton E. Carlton, the acid-tongued author whose biting novels
had won him universal fame. He leaned his thin, bony body back into the
comfort of an overstuffed chair and favored the actress with a wicked
smile.
The two of them were sitting in the finest lounge of the luxury space
ship _Kismet_, enjoying postprandial cocktails with Captain Homer
Fogarty, the _Kismet's_ rotund commanding officer. The _Kismet_ was
blasting through space at close to the speed of light, bound from
Callisto, one of Jupiter's moons, back to Earth. But none of the two
hundred Earthbound passengers were conscious of the speed at all.
Darling Toujours waved a long cigarette holder at the author. "Don't
pay any attention to him, Captain. You know how writers are--always
putting words in other people's mouths, and not very good ones at that."
"Do you mean not very good words or not very good mouths, my dear?"
Carlton asked. The solar system's most famous actress clamped her
scarlet lips shut with rage. It would take someone like Carlton E.
Carlton, she knew, to point out the one minor blemish in an otherwise
perfect body--her slightly over-sized mouth.
She began to wish that she had never left Callisto, that she had
cancelled her passage on the _Kismet_ when she learned that Carlton
was to be a fellow passenger. But her studio had wired her to return
to Earth immediately to make a new series of three dimensional video
films. And the _Kismet_ was the only first class space ship flying to
Earth for two weeks. So she had kept her ticket in spite of Carlton.
"I must say that I think Miss Toujours has the prettiest mouth I've
ever seen," boomed Captain Fogarty, his voice sounding something like
a cross between a foghorn and a steam whistle. And he was not merely
being gallant, for many a lonely night as he flew the darkness between
Earth and the many planets, he had dreamed of caressing those lips.
"And I think you are definitely a man of discriminating taste," said
Darling demurely, crossing her legs and arranging her dress to expose a
little more of the Toujours charms to the Captain's eye.
Carlton smiled casually at the exposed flesh. "It's all very pretty,
my dear," he said smugly. "But we've seen it all before and in space
you're supposed to act like a lady, if you can act that well."
Darling Toujours drew back her hand to smack Carlton one in a very
unlady-like manner when she suddenly realized that they were not alone.
Her hand froze, poised elegantly in mid-air, as she turned to see a
newcomer standing at the door.
* * * * *
The witness to the impending slap was a withered little lady, scarcely
five feet tall, with silvered hair, eyes that twinkled like a March
wind, and a friendly rash of wrinkles that gave her face the kindly,
weathered appearance of an old stone idol. Her slight figure was lost
in volumes of black cloth draped on her in a manner that had gone out
of style at least fifty years before. The little woman coughed politely.
"I beg your pardon," she told them in a sweet, high little voice.
"I hope I didn't interrupt anything. If you would like to hit the
gentleman, Miss Toujours, I'll be glad to come back later."
Darling Toujours opened her violet eyes wide in surprise. "Why, I
was ... I was ... I--" The actress uttered a small, gulping sound as
she recovered her poise. "Why, I was just going to pat him on the cheek
for being such a nice boy. You are a nice boy, aren't you, Carlton?"
She leaned forward to stroke him gently on the face. Carlton roared
with laughter and the good Captain colored deeply.
"Oh," said the little old woman, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that he was
your son." Carlton choked suddenly and Darling suffered from a brief
fit of hysteria.
The Captain took command. "Now, look here, Madam," he sputtered. "What
is it you want?"
"I really wanted to see you, Captain," she told him, her battered old
shoes bringing her fully into the room with little mincing steps. "The
Purser says I have to sign a contract of some kind with you, and I
wanted to know how to write my name. I'm Mrs. Omar K. Perkins, but you
see, I'm really Mrs. Matilda Perkins because my Omar died a few years
ago. But I haven't signed my name very much since then and I'm not at
all sure of which is legal." She put one bird-like little hand to
her throat and clasped the cameo there almost as if it could give her
support. She looked so small and so frail that Fogarty forgave her the
intrusion.
"It really doesn't make much difference how you sign the thing, just so
long as you sign it," he blustered. "Just a mere formality anyway. You
just sign it any way you like." He paused, hoping that she would leave
now that she had her information.
"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that," she said, but made no move whatsoever
to leave. Captain Fogarty gave her his hardened stare of the type which
withered most people where they stood. Mrs. Perkins just smiled sweetly
at him.
His rage getting out of hand, he finally blurted, "And now, Mrs.
Perkins, I think you'd better be getting back to your quarters. As you
know, this is a private lounge for the _first_ class passengers."
Mrs. Perkins continued to smile at him. "Yes, I know. It's lovely,
isn't it? I'll just go out this way." And before anyone could stop her,
she had moved to the door to Darling Toujours' suite and had opened it,
stepping inside.
"That's my room, not the door out," Darling said loudly.
"So I see," said Mrs. Perkins, staring at the opulent furnishings
with avid pleasure. "It's such a pretty thing, all done up with
mother-of-pearl like that, isn't it? And what a pretty lace nightie
lying on the bed." Mrs. Perkins picked up the sheer, gossamer garment
to examine it. "You do wear something under it, don't you?"
Darling screeched and darted for the door. She snatched the nightie
away from Mrs. Perkins and rudely propelled the older woman out the
door, closing it behind her. "Captain, this woman must GO!"
"I was just leaving, Miss Toujours. I hope you and your son have a very
happy voyage. Good day, Captain Fogarty," she called over her shoulder
as she exited. Carlton E. Carlton's shrill laughter followed her down
the companionway.
* * * * *
Mrs. Perkins had been lying in her berth reading for less than an hour
when the knock sounded at her door. She would have preferred to sit up
and read, but her cabin was so small that there was no room for any
other furniture besides the bed.
"Come in," she called in a small voice.
Johnny Weaver, steward for the cheaper cabins, poked his youthful,
freckled face through the door. "Howdy, Mrs. Perkins. I wondered if I
could do anything for you? It's about ten minutes before we eat."
"Well, you can pull that big box down from the top shelf there, if you
don't mind. And, I wonder, would you mind calling me Grandma? All my
children do it and I miss it so." She gave him a wrinkled smile that
was at once wistful and petulant.
Johnny laughed in an easy, infectious manner. "Sure thing, Grandma."
He stretched his long arms up to bring down the heavy bag and found
himself wondering just how it had gotten up there in the first place.
He didn't remember ever putting it there for her and Grandma Perkins
was obviously too frail a woman to have handled such a heavy box by
herself. He put it on the floor.
As she stooped over and extracted a pair of low-heeled, black and
battered shoes from the box, she asked him, "Johnny, what was that
paper I signed this afternoon?"
"Oh, that? Why that was just a contract for passage, Grandma. You
guaranteed to pay them so much for the flight, which you've already
done, and they guaranteed that you wouldn't be put off against your
will until you reached your destination."
"But why do we have to have a contract?"
Johnny leaned back, relaxing against the door. "Well, STAR--that's
Stellar Transportation and Atomic Research, you know--is one of
the thirteen monopolies in this part of the solar system. The "Big
Thirteen," we call them. STAR charters every space flight in this neck
of the woods. Well, back in the old days, when space flights were
scarce, it used to be that you'd pay for a ticket from Saturn to Earth,
say, and you'd get to Mars and they'd stop for fuel. Maybe somebody
on Mars would offer a lot of money for your cabin. So STAR would just
bump you off, refund part of your money and leave you stranded there.
In order to get the monopoly, they had to promise to stop all that. And
the Solar Congress makes them sign contracts guaranteeing you that they
won't put you off against your wishes. Of course, they don't dare do it
anymore anyway, but that's the law."
Grandma Perkins sighed. "It's such a small cabin I don't think anybody
else would want it. But it's all that I could afford," she said,
smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress with both hands.
"Anything else I can do for you, Grandma?"
"No, thank you, Johnny. I think I can make it up the steps to the
dining room by myself."
A little while later when Johnny looked into her room to see if she had
gone, the cabin was empty and the heavy box was back in place in the
top cabinet.
* * * * *
The food that evening was not the very best, Grandma Perkins thought to
herself, but that was mostly due to her seat. By the time the waiter
got around to her little cranny most of it was cold. But she didn't
complain. She enjoyed watching the people with the more expensive
cabins parade their clothes and their manners at the Captain's table.
And, it must be admitted, she was more than a trifle envious of them.
Her acquaintances of the afternoon, Miss Toujours and Mr. Carlton, were
seated there, Miss Toujours having the place of honor to the Captain's
right.
Grandma watched them as they finished up their food and then she moved
from her little table over to one of the very comfortable sofas in the
main lounge. In reality she wasn't supposed to be sitting there, but
she hoped that she could get away with it. The divans were so much more
comfortable than her hard, narrow bed that she felt like sitting there
for a long time, by herself, just thinking.
But her hopes met with disappointment. For shortly after she sat down,
Darling Toujours and Carlton E. Carlton strolled over and sat down
across from her, not recognizing her at first. Then Carlton spied her.
"Darling! There's that priceless little woman we met this afternoon."
"The little hag, you mean," Miss Toujours muttered under her breath,
but loudly enough for Grandma Perkins to hear.
"Why, hello, Miss Toujours. And Mr. Carlton too. I hope you'll forgive
me for this afternoon. I've found out who you were, you see."
"Of course we forgive you, Mrs. Jerkins," Darling said throatily,
baring her teeth like a feline.
"My name is Perkins," Grandma smiled.
"I hope you don't mind, Toujours, but you know, you remind me a great
deal of my grandniece, Agatha. She was undoubtedly the most lovely
child I've ever seen."
"Why, thank you, Mrs. Perkins," Darling purred, starting to preen just
a bit. Anything could be forgiven someone who complimented her.
"Of course, Agatha never was quite bright," Grandma said as she turned
her head aside as if in sorrow. "They were all set to put her in an
institution when she ran off and married the lizard man in a carnival.
I believe she's still appearing in the show as the bearded lady. A
pity. She was so pretty, just like you."
Darling Toujours muttered a few choice words under her breath.
"But we must all make the best of things as they come. That's what
Omar, my husband, used to say." Grandma paused to wipe away a small
tear that had gotten lodged in one of her eyes. "That reminds me," she
said finally, "I've got a three dimensional picture of Omar right here.
And pictures of all my children, my ten lovely children. I brought them
with me specially tonight because I thought you might want to look at
them. Now, where did I put them?" Grandma opened her purse and began
rummaging around in its voluminous confines.
Darling and Carlton exchanged horrified glances and then rose silently
and tip-toed out of the lounge.