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."