Part 2

Grandma Perkins paused in her narrative and looked up at her audience, giving them a withered little smile. "And if you want to know why, well ... I was bored on the _Kismet_, and I thought how nice it would be to run away and join a gang of cutthroat pirates."

"She's batty," moaned Snake.

"She's lost her marbles," muttered another.

"Let's toss her overboard right now," said still another.

Lamps O'Toole took the floor. "Now, wait a minute. We can't do that," he said loudly. "We got enough trouble as is. You know what would happen to us if the Space Patrol added murder to the list. They'd put the whole fleet in after us and track us and our families down to the last kid." Then he turned to the little old lady to explain.

"Look, lady--"

"My name is Mrs. Matilda Perkins. You may call me Grandma."

"Okay, Grandma, look. You really fixed us good. To begin with, we ain't really pirates. We used to operate this tub as a freighter between the Jupiter moons. But STAR got a monopoly on all space flights, including freight, and they just froze us out. We can't operate nowhere in the solar system, unless we get their permission. And they just ain't giving permission to nobody these days." Lamps flopped into one of the control seats and lit a cigarette.

"So, when us good, honest men couldn't find any work because of STAR, and we didn't want to give up working in space, we just ups and decides to become pirates. This was our first job, and we sure did need the money we could have gotten out of Darling Toujours' studios for ransom."

Lamps sighed. "Now, we got you instead, no chance of getting the ransom money, and to top it all off, we'll be wanted for piracy by the Space Patrol."

"Well, it doesn't seem to me that you're ever going to be good pirates at this rate," Grandma told him. "You should have known better than to take a woman at her word."

"I don't suppose you got any rich relatives what would pay to get you back?" suggested Snake hopefully.

"I haven't got any rich relatives period," she said pertly. Then she added, "But my ten children might scrape up a little cash for you if you promised you wouldn't bring me back at all."

"I figured as much," Lamps said dolefully. "Lookit, Grandma, the best thing we can do is to put you off safely at the next place we stop. Unless we get you back in one piece the Space Patrol will be on our necks forever. So don't go getting any ideas about joining up with us."

"Well, the very least you could do for a poor old lady is to feed her," Grandma told him, her lower lip sticking out in a most petulant manner. "They like to have starved me to death on that _Kismet_."

"We ain't got much fancy in the line of grub...." Lamps began.

"Just show me the way to the kitchen," said Grandma.

III

A full meal and three extra helpings of hot biscuits later, Grandma, Lamps and Snake were sitting around in the captain's cabin talking.

"... and that's the way it is, Grandma. When STAR froze us out of work, we just took our ship here and became pirates." Lamps stuffed one more of Grandma's biscuits into his mouth.

"But where'd you get that fancy gadget that stopped the Kismet's engines from running?" Grandma asked, passing the plate to Snake.

Snake took a biscuit and passed the plate back. "That's our Suggestor Ray. Perfessor Spindle, he invented it. He invents a lot of things. He's got a lavoratory at our hideout."

"You mean laboratory, Snake. But who's Professor Spindle?" Grandma asked.

Snake wolfed the biscuit down in one mighty gulp. "He used to work for STAR until they stole a couple of his inventions and wouldn't pay him for them. So he come to work for us. He fixed up the suggestor ray in no time."

"You mean suppressor ray," muttered Lamps, his mouth full.

"That's right. We get close to another space ship and turn it on and it suggests that the engines don't work. Perfessor Spindle, he shedded our engines so they'd work even with it on."

"You mean shielded," said Grandma.

"That's right. He put a big shed over the engines to shed out the suggestor rays." As Snake leaned over to pick up the remaining biscuit from the plate in front of him, a locket slipped out of the neck of his shirt. Grandma saw the picture of a pretty blonde girl in it, and attached to the chain was a wedding ring. Snake noticed her looking at it. "That's my wife. We was married when we was awful young. But she up and flewed the coop on me about a year after we was married. Awful pretty, she was."

"She reminds me of someone," said Grandma.

Lamps leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. "You know, Grandma, you sure do bake fine biscuits. Maybe we'll stop in and see you sometimes at that old folks home and you can fix us some more. Yes, sir, you sure can cook."

Grandma Perkins saw her opening and seized upon it. "You sure could use a woman's touch on this ship. Why, this is the dirtiest ship I've ever seen, and--"

"Aw, now, Grandma. You know we never could have a female on a pirate ship. And we got to get you back to safety before the Space Patrol has us in the coop for good. And what would your ten children say--"

Lamps was saved from further explanation when the door to the cabin burst open and Willie Wicket, the youngest of the pirates, dashed in.

"Captain Lamps! There's a Space Patrol ship bearing down on our tail hell bent for leather!"

Lamps jumped to his feet, as did Snake. "Well, turn on the suppressor ray. That ought to fix it!"

"I turned on the ray and they're still a-coming!" wailed Willie.

"Oh, Lordy, Lordy! Professor Spindle told us this would happen, and we didn't believe him. That must be one of the new patrol ships," Lamps moaned as he, Snake and Grandma rushed for the control room. En route Grandma was told that the newest patrol ships had a special kind of shielding that made them invulnerable to the Spindle suppressor ray.

Lamps, Snake, Willie and the rest of the crew took turns at trying to out-maneuver the patrol craft, but it had far too much speed for the slower craft, and it became obvious within a few minutes that the pirate ship was doomed to be captured.

Then Grandma spoke up. "Where's that suppressor ray of yours, Lamps?"

"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.

IV

It is doubtful that anyone ever enjoyed a trip on the _Kismet_ as much as Grandma Perkins did hers. Johnny waited on her hand and foot, she was served first at the table and she kept up a running flow of brilliant conversation. And if Captain Fogarty seemed to enjoy his meals less the latter part of the voyage than he had the first part, only the more malicious of the passengers dared to connect his loss of appetite with his new-found guest of honor.

All in all the rest of the trip was a fairly uneventful one for Grandma, save for one small incident the first night she was back on board ship. Luxuriating in her large, comfortable mother-of-pearl bed, Grandma heard a soft knocking at her door.

"Come in," she called in a small voice.

The door opened and in stalked Darling Toujours, a suitcase under her arms.

"I've come to take my cabin back, Mrs. Perkins," she said, a mean look in her eyes. "The only vacant one was the little hole in the wall they had you in the first part of the voyage, and I must say it isn't fit for a dog."

"Oh, I think you'll get used to it then," cood Grandma.

"Well, I don't intend to be the one to do the getting used to it," snarled the actress. "You see, my dear woman, I didn't say anything about this until you were safely on board again and we could start back for Earth, because I can't afford to be late for making my next picture."

Grandma looked a little surprised. "Say anything about what?"

"About how I was in the passageway and saw you get into that space suit and let yourself out the airlock, Mrs. Perkins. I don't believe that constitutes being forced to leave against your will. Therefore, STAR doesn't owe you a thing more than your passage, if that, and I want my suite back." The actress smiled triumphantly.

"But, Miss Toujours, surely no one would believe such a fantastic story like that."

Darling Toujours began to purr softly. "Captain Fogarty would. And now, my dear, if you'll just leave, I won't have to have you put out. And you can just take off my nice lace nightie to begin with!"

"Oh, my," said Grandma, sighing deeply but making no sign of moving. "And I was so hoping that I wouldn't have to say anything about all that business and cause you so much trouble."

Darling Toujours looked startled. Then a distrustful look came into her eyes. "What are you talking about?" she demanded suspiciously.

"Why, on board that pirate ship I noticed that one of the men, Snake Simpson, was wearing a picture of a very pretty girl. His wife, he said, only she had run out on him many years ago. Of course, her hair was blonde, and yours is black, and you seem to have done something to your nose in the meantime, but I'd never mistake the mouth. So large for your face, you know."

"Why, you little--" the younger woman began.

"I wouldn't tell anybody in the world about it. Unless, of course, you made trouble, Mrs. Simp--I mean, Miss Toujours."

"Nobody in the world would believe you!" snapped the actress.

Grandma gave her a beneficent smile. "Carlton E. Carlton would. By the way, my dear, I think I know now why you wear these nighties. But one does feel so naked in them, if you know what I mean. And now, if you'll please leave. This part of the ship is restricted to first class passengers."

* * * * *

When the _Kismet_ landed at the New York spaceport many days later, Grandma left the ship reluctantly, knowing that it marked the end of a great adventure for her. In protest against this, she took the little money she had with her and spent a full week of almost riotous living on the town, visiting all the nightclubs and the dives, flirting dangerously with men of 70 and 80, half her age, and almost getting arrested six times.

But one bright morning, her funds exhausted, she was deposited bag and baggage on the front lawn of Melissa Muir's Home for Elderly Ladies. Grandma looked the place over dourly.

"Well, I guess there's nothing left for me to do now but retire from active life and take up painting," Grandma said to herself. And picking up some of her effects, she started up the walk. Close to the front porch, however, two men stepped out from behind some shrubbery and started towards her.

"Grandma!" one of them shouted. And it was only then that she recognized Lamps and Snake, freshly shaven and with clean suits on.

"Why, Lamps O'Toole! And you, too, Snake! Whatever are you two doing at this old boneyard?" she said, hugging each in turn.

"We come to see you, Grandma," Lamps told her, bashful as a boy asking for his first date. "We had to put in to Earth for fuel, so we came by to see how you was."

Snake Simpson, plainly embarrassed at her display of affection, wriggled free from her bony embrace. "Yeah, Grandma, we come by to bring you a message from Perfessor Spindle. He still don't know what you did to the Suggestor Ray, but he says you're a real Icy Stein."

"You mean Einstein, Snake. That's very kind of the professor."

"And we brought you a little present to show you how much we appreciate you getting us the pardons," Lamps told her, thrusting a small package into her hands. "Don't go and open it until we leave, though."

Grandma Perkins felt a little flustered by all the attention she was receiving. "Why, thank you very much, boys. I'm sure I'll like it."

The three of them stood quite still and quite silent for a moment or two. Then Lamps said, "Well, I guess we ought to be going, Grandma. It's been good seeing you, and take care of yourself."

"Yeah, bye," said Snake, holding out a grimy paw hoping to escape with just a handshake. He did.

The two burly spacemen strode rapidly down the walk and climbed into their aircar. Grandma stood transfixed until the little vehicle had climbed far out of sight. Then she opened the present.

In the box she found a delicate bit of jewelry--a solid gold locket. The medallion was shaped like a rocket ship, and along the side of it, spelled out in tiny diamonds, was the name, _Dirty Shame_. Grandma held it in her hands for a spell, then pulled out a bit of a lace handkerchief and honked loudly.

Turning around, she surveyed her new home again. And she began to think, which was always dangerous. Her conscience, catching the drift of her thoughts, became alarmed.

"Now, Matilda Perkins, you wouldn't dare--" her conscience said to her.

"Oh, you shut up," she retorted. "But it would be awfully nice...."

* * * * *

The spaceship _Dirty Shame_ blasted off from the spaceport in a blaze of fire and smoke. Lamps O'Toole and Snake Simpson were at the controls, and neither of them was feeling much like talking. So, for the most part as they pushed the buttons and turned the switches that headed the ship out into space, they were quiet.

After a while Snake spoke up. "We're going to miss the old dame," he ventured as they pulled dear of Earth's atmosphere.

"Keep your trap shut," growled Lamps.

"Yes, sir, if I just close my eyes, I can still see the old gal, standing there at the micrafoam, giving that old Commodore the business. And you standing next to her, your mouth hanging out a mile."