 Why are people after Grannie Annie?
Doctor Universe By CARL JACOBI Grannie Annie, who wrote science fiction under the nom de plume of Annabella C. Flowers, had stumbled onto a murderous plot more hair-raising than any she had ever concocted. There she stood before a frantically gesticulating desk clerk, leaning on her faded green umbrella. "Mithter Trenwith, if thith lady ith a friend of yourth, you'll have to take her away. In the grille an equally astonished waiter served us—me a lime rickey and Grannie Annie her usual whisky sour—I waited until she had tossed the drink off at a gulp before I set off a chain of questions: "What the devil are you doing on Venus? Pure fiddle-faddle, that's what they are. But to me she was still Grannie Annie, as old-fashioned as last year's hat, as modern as an atomic motor. Her annual income totaled into six figures, and her publishers sat back and massaged their digits, watching their earnings mount. If Annabella C. Flowers wrote a novel, and the locale was the desert of Mars, she packed her carpet bag and hopped a liner for Craterville. If she cooked up a feud between two expeditions on Callisto, she went to Callisto. Grannie spilled a few shreds of Martian tobacco onto a paper and deftly rolled herself a cigarette. Grannie Annie hailed a hydrocar. Grannie Annie pushed me into a seat in the front row.
 She knows too much about the Green Flames and they want to prevent her from obtaining it.
 She entered the Spacemen's Club, which she was not allowed to do as a woman.  She was on Doctor Universe's show.  She knows too much about the Green Flames and they want to prevent her from obtaining it.  As a prolific author who travel a lot, she's made a lot of enemies.