"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."