 What is Grannie Annie referring to when she says "the I.P men aren't strong enough?"
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1944. The Spacemen's was a sanctuary, a rest club where in-coming pilots and crewmen could relax before leaving for another voyage. The rule that no females could pass its portals was strictly enforced. There she stood before a frantically gesticulating desk clerk, leaning on her faded green umbrella. Her high-topped button shoes were planted firmly on the varpla carpet and her wrinkled face was set in calm defiance. "Mithter Trenwith, if thith lady ith a friend of yourth, you'll have to take her away. Pure fiddle-faddle, that's what they are. To her publishers and her readers she might be Annabella C. Flowers, author of a long list of science fiction novels. 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. They may have been dime novels, but they weren't synthetic. 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. A theater to the grizzled colonials on this side of the planet meant a shack on stilts over the muck, zilcon wood seats and dingy atobide lamps. But the place was packed with miners, freight-crew-men—all the tide and wash of humanity that made Swamp City the frontier post it is. On the right were nine visi sets, each with its new improved pantascope panel and switchboard. When it had subsided, the man continued: "As most of you are familiar with our program, it will be unnecessary to give any advance explanation. I will only say that on this stage are nine visi sets, each tuned to one of the nine planets. For every question missed, the sender will receive a check for one thousand planetoles . Doctor Universe nodded and turned to Grannie Annie who had raised her hand. Questions from Mars, from Earth, from Saturn flowed in the visi sets. Isolated miners on Jupiter, dancers in swank Plutonian cafes strove to stump the experts. When they failed, or when the Truthicator flashed a red light, he announced the name of the winner.
 She knows that as the politcal climate worsens, the I.P won't be able to keep up with the chaos.
 She doesn't feel that the I.P men are serving well enough.  Just that - that the local law enforcement should be stronger.  She knows that as the politcal climate worsens, the I.P won't be able to keep up with the chaos.  The I.P men weren't quick enough to protect Billy and her from the attack.