"Over there in the corner of the control panel by the televideo set,
but don't monkey with it," he told her in the middle of a stream of
curses at his ancient vessel. He slammed his hands around the control
board frantically trying to elude the oncoming patrol craft. Grandma
ignored his warning and quickly pried off the top of the box containing
the suppressor mechanism.
A brilliant burst of atomic energy lit the control room. "They're
firing at us!" cried Lamps. "Man the guns, men!"
* * * * *
The crew was so busy executing this order that none of them saw exactly
what Grandma was doing until Willie, who was manning the radar screen,
suddenly shouted, "Captain Lamps! The patrol ship's stopped!"
"Of course it's stopped," Grandma said indignantly. "I just fixed
your old dingus here so it'd work right. And it's going to stay fixed
until I can get you out of trouble." She crossed her arms and stared
adamantly at Lamps who was so shocked he could scarcely move.
Then she pointed her finger. "Willie, you come over here and turn
this televideo on and get me in touch with that patrol ship right
away. We've got some things to settle." Willie looked at Lamps for
permission, but the captain of the pirate craft was still too stunned
to do more than nod his head. Willie walked to the set and began to
fiddle with the dials.
Snake broke the silence and asked the question they all wanted to ask.
"Grandma, how come you could fix that Suggestory Ray?"
"Young man," she snapped, "I had ten children, like I told you. One of
them, Franklin, my next to oldest boy, was a physicist. And you don't
help put a boy through college physics without learning something about
how to fiddle with electronics." Lamps felt faint.
The screen of the televideo lit up. "Hello, Patrol Ship! Hello, Patrol
Ship!" Willie called over the microphone.
The chubby face of a middle aged man appeared on the screen. His cap
carried enough gold braid to stock a small-sized mint. "Hello, Pirate,"
he cried. "This is Commodore Trumble of the Space Patrol on board the
cruiser _Faultless_. What in blue blazes have you done to my ship!"
"Give me that microphone, Willie," Grandma said, taking the device away
from him. She moved over to the screen. "Hello, Commodore. This is Mrs.
Omar Perkins on board the pirate ship--" She stopped and turned to
Lamps. "What is the name of this tub?" she asked.
"It's--it's the _Lulu Belle_," he said, turning his head aside as if in
shame.
"That's hardly a fit name for a pirate ship," Grandma told him, turning
back to the televideo. "That's a sissy name."
"That's her name, and that's what it's going to--"
Grandma ignored him. "Hello, Commodore. This is Mrs. Omar Perkins on
board the pirate ship _Dirty Shame_."
Lamps groaned audibly.
"Are you the one they kidnapped from the _Kismet_?"
"That's right, Commodore. And now I'm ready to go back."
"What are you doing at the microphone? Who's in command of the _Dirty
Shame_?" The Commodore looked near apoplexy.
"I am, for the moment," Grandma told him. Lamps groaned again, this
time louder. "And I want you to do me a favor. Please get Captain
Fogarty on your long-distance video right away. I want to talk to him."
The Commodore screamed, "I'll do nothing of the kind! What have you
done to the _Faultless_? What are those pirates doing?"
Grandma smiled at him. "Well, right now they're getting ready to blow a
hole right in the side of your ship. And I don't know that I can stop
them if you don't do what I say."
"What!" shouted the Commodore.
"And I don't believe your guns are working too well with your atomics
out of order, so I'd suggest that you get Captain Fogarty on the video
right away."
The Commodore ranted, he bellowed and he raved, but in less than a
minute, Captain Fogarty's face appeared on the screen, relayed from the
more powerful communications center on the _Faultless_.
"Good evening, Captain Fogarty. This is Mrs. Omar Perkins on board the
pirate craft _Dirty Shame_."
Fogarty harrumped. "Oh, it's you. Well, I'm glad to see that you're
safe. Did the Commodore rescue you?"
"Well, you could put it that way, I guess. Where is the _Kismet_ now?"
she asked.
"Heading for Earth as scheduled, if it's any of your business. Why?"
Grandma gave him a twinkling grin. "Well, I don't think you'd better
land without me. So you just hold your horses till I get back aboard."
"I'll do nothing of the kind. I can't help it if one of the poorer
paying passengers gets herself kidnapped. The Space Patrol has plenty
of room. They can just bring you in. I've got a schedule to meet."
Grandma pretended to yawn. "I wouldn't advise your landing on Earth
without me. Or landing anywhere, for that matter. You know, Stellar
Transportation signed a contract with me guaranteeing that I wouldn't
be put off the ship against my will and promising to deliver me to
Earth this trip. If I'm not aboard when you land, that contract is
broken and so is STAR'S monopoly. So you go right ahead without me. I
figure I could make about a million dollars off the law suit myself if
you do."
* * * * *
Captain Fogarty exploded. "I ... I ..." he stammered, then turned
away from the screen. Grandma could hear a hasty conversation between
him and the _Kismet's_ legal officer. In a moment he returned to the
screen, a broad but very forced grin on his face. "Why, Mrs. Perkins,
we wouldn't think of landing without you. Please tell Commodore Trumble
that we'll be waiting for you."
"But I just might not feel like coming, Captain," Grandma said demurely.
"Tell Commodore Trumble I said he had to bring you back immediately!"
blustered Fogarty. "And I hope he wrings those pirates' necks!"
Grandma put on her most pained expression. But to Lamps, Snake and the
rest of the men still standing in awe, it was obvious that she was
enjoying every minute of it.
"I don't think Commodore Trumble has much to say about it. You see, the
pirates captured him and the entire crew of the _Faultless_ just before
he called you. So the pirates would be the ones who'd have to bring me
back. And I'm sure they wouldn't do that unless they were sure I'd be
well taken care of."
"I don't believe it!" cried Fogarty. "Trumble, say it isn't so!"
There came a slight sputtering on the circuit. "Well, Fogarty, I ...
well ... that is, I--"
"Oh, no," moaned Fogarty.
Grandma smiled prettily. "Now, then, about my accommodations. You know
that lovely mother-of-pearl suite that Miss Toujours has? Well, I think
I ought to have that suite. I'm far too old to be climbing all those
stairs and that other cabin was so small." She looked up a bit, as if
in a blissful reverie. "Miss Toujours has to rush back to make some new
pictures, and I'm sure that she wouldn't like to be delayed in space
for weeks and weeks. So you might have her leave me a set of those lacy
nighties, too. They looked so nice. And I'll have to have her seat
at the Captain's table too, of course. And I'd need my own private
steward. Johnny Weaver will do nicely, I think. And--"
Grandma, the morose Captain and the _Kismet's_ legal officer finally
straightened matters out. In return for the granting of her every
whim for the rest of the voyage, Grandma agreed to return to the ship
and free Stellar Transportation from any liability arising from her
kidnapping. She was almost glowing over it all, but it was a beaten and
broken Fogarty who finally broke the video circuit some minutes later.
Turning to the crew of the _Dirty Shame_, Grandma smiled with great
innocence. "Now, wasn't it nice of them to go to all that trouble over
a little old lady like me," she said.
Lamps grinned. "You sure fixed them, Grandma. But what a pack of
trouble you got us into with the law. What are we going to do with
Trumble and the _Faultless_ out there? The Space Patrol will chase us
the rest of our lives for pulling a fast one like this."
Grandma snapped her fingers. "I knew there was something I had
forgotten." She turned back to the video set. "Hello, Commodore
Trumble," she called.
"Well, I hope you're satisfied," came the booming voice of the
Commodore.
"No, not quite. There's a small matter of amnesty for the crew of the
_Dirty Shame_. If you'll just make out the papers giving them a full
pardon for this whole affair, everything will be just fine."
Grandma winced at the language he used in reply. On the tail of the
last string of curses, he added, "I won't do it. What do you think I
am, an idiot?"
"We won't discuss the subject just at the moment, Commodore. But,
really, you wouldn't want the story to get out that the big, brave,
fearless Commodore Trumble got himself out-foxed by a poor little
innocent old lady like me, would you? Silence comes dear, as my husband
used to say to me."
"I--I--"
"And I see that the boys here have got that gun pointed in your
direction again. The Space Patrol wouldn't be too happy if you brought
the _Faultless_ back with a few big holes in her sides, would they. And
I don't know if I can stop the boys--"
The Commodore turned green, then purple, then a trifle black in
the face. "I can't do it. It--it isn't legal. I--I haven't got the
authority."
Grandma silenced him with a wave of her hand. "Of course you have. In
the case of the Space Patrol vs. Pickens and Poof, the Solar Supreme
Court ruled that Patrol Commodores, while in space, have the power
to grant complete amnesty to any deserving citizens who merit it. I
didn't put my eldest son Wade through law school without learning
something about the subject. Furthermore, in the case of Higgins vs.
Abercrombie--"
"All right. I give up. You win." The Commodore retired from the video
screen, tears in his eyes.
A few hours later the _Dirty Shame_ hove into sight of the _Kismet_.
Grandma Perkins put on her space suit again and prepared to head back
to the luxury liner, but not before she and her boys had had a small
celebration, the high spot of which was another batch of fresh-baked
biscuits.
Grandma then told them all good-bye and insisted on kissing each
of them on their cheeks in spite of the beards. She then explained
that she hated to go off and leave them like this, but that she had
a contract to live up to and that she always kept her bargains. But
anyway they had their pardons now and they probably wouldn't need
her--much.
And it must be reported that as the tiny little figure, safe in the
over-sized space suit, drifted across the void that separated the two
ships, more than one of the grizzled crew turned aside to wipe his eyes
on a dirty sleeve.