Chapter 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.