Tambu

CHAPTER FIVE

"There's no sign of them at the other two inhabited planets in this system either. We've checked with instruments and confirmed with firsthand investigation. They aren't here."

Tambu slouched in his chair studying the angry face of the Candy Cane's captain on the viewscreen before him. He was as concerned over the mental state of the captain as he was about the unfortunate turn of events being reported.

"Have you checked planetside?"

"On all three planets," the captain confirmed. "There hasn't been a ship in this system in weeks. With your permission, I'd like to find the lying bastard who sold us this information and get our money back-with interest!"

Tambu grimaced at the suggestion, confident the captain could not see his expression. He had several unconfirmed reports on the captain of the Candy Cane, all regarding unnecessary brutality. The last thing he wanted to do was to give the man carte blanche to lean on one of their informants.

"Have you checked the uninhabited planets?" he asked, stalling for time.

The expression of anger on the captain's face gave way to one of uneasiness.

"We've run an instrument check, but not a firsthand confirmation," he admitted. "I figured if the Chameleon was putting in for R and R and supplies they'd be at one of the inhabited planets. I mean, there's no point in giving your crew shore leave on a hunk of barren rock. Shall I go ahead and check out the other planets?"

Tambu had reached his decision as the captain spoke.

"No, that won't be necessary. I want you to hold firm at that system for a while, though. Wait at least a week and see if our target pops up. He might just be running late."

The captain grimaced, then remembered that Tambu could still see him and rearranged his features into a forced smile.

"Hold position for a week," he repeated. "Affirmative."

"For the record," Tambu said casually, "What are you figuring as your modus operandi for that week?"

It was an unfair question. The captain had just gotten his orders, and it was obvious he couldn't have a set plan of action in mind yet. Still, Tambu expected his captains to be able to be able to think on their feet. Besides, he hadn't liked the way the captain reacted when receiving his orders.

"Urn..." the captain began, licking his lips nervously, "we'll leave a crewman at each spaceport on the three inhabited planets, then take up position close enough to the furthest uninhabited planet that it will screen our position. If the target ship shows up, our watchers can contact us by closed communicator and we'll move in."

Tambu let the captain suffer in silence for a full minute before he answered.

"That plan seems adequate. How do you intend to select which crewmen are to serve as watchers?"

"On the merit system," the captain replied promptly, his confidence apparently bolstered by the acceptance of his plan. "An all-expense-paid week planetside is a pretty nice plum. I figure it should go to my pest performers."

"That also means your best performers will be off-ship when you take on the target vessel," Tambu commented pointedly.

The captain's face fell at the admonishment, but Tambu continued.

"It's good to hear that. I wish more of my captains had that kind of faith in their crews instead of letting a few key crewmembers handle all the dirty work."

"I-Thank you, sir," the captain gulped.

"One suggestion, though," Tambu drawled, smiling at the captain's discomfort. "You might choose one of the watchers by random draw, then rig it so one of your newer crewmembers wins. Send someone with a bit of experience along to be sure he stays out of trouble, but make it clear it's the new man's assignment. Also, I think you should put all the watchers on a budget just to make sure they don't get carried away with their spending. They're there to do a job, not to go on a binge."

"Yes, sir."

"And announce to the crew that if you nail the target, there will be a week's shore leave at a planet of your choice."

"Yes, sir. Thank you." The captain was smiling now.

"Tambu out."

Tambu didn't smile as he clicked off the viewscreen. He took no pleasure or pride in dealing with situations such as this. They were all too commonplace now, more the rule than the exception.

Swiveling his chair away from the communications console, he faced his desk once again. The jumble of papers and notepads stared back at him in unswerving accusation. He realized that he viewed the work before him with neither enthusiasm nor distaste. He was too tired to muster any reaction.

He briefly considered the possibility of a short nap, but rejected the thought. He would double-check these figures once more, then take a break. With an involuntary sigh, he reached for a pencil.

Behind him, the communications console chimed softly, signaling an incoming call.

Tambu turned from his desk and reached "for the switch to activate the mechanism. His eye fell on the call board, and he hesitated.

The incoming call was being relayed through several ships. This was the normal precaution taken to hide his exact location. The ship originating the call was the Scorpion. Egor!

Tambu scowled at the board, his hand poised over the activator switch. For a moment, he was tempted to ignore the call. Then the console chimed again, and he threw the switch. As long as Egor was one of his captains, he would be afforded the same prompt attention as any other captain, no matter how annoying it was.

"Yes, Egor?" Tambu asked, forcing his voice into a neutral tone.

"Saladin says you approved the transfer of Jocko from the Scorpion to the Ramses." Egor's snarl exploded over the speaker even before his face blinked into focus.

"That is correct," Tambu replied levelly.

"Did you know Jocko is the second-best navigator in my crew?" Egor's face was on the screen now, and his expression matched his voice.

"I knew it," Tambu admitted without apology.

"Why wasn't I consulted?" Egor demanded. "Doesn't my say matter for anything anymore?"

As Egor spoke, the door of Tambu's office opened a crack, and Ramona's head appeared. She cocked an eyebrow in silent question, and he waved her inside.

"In this case, Egor, your opinion was already known," Tambu explained patiently. "You had already turned down Jocko's transfer request. That's why he came to me directly."

"So you just countermanded my authority," Egor scowled. "Without even bothering to ask my reasons."

"As Jocko explained it to me, he was either going to transfer or leave the force." Tambu's voice had an edge to it now. "Either way, the Scorpion was going to lose him. At least this way he's still in the force. As you pointed out, he's a good navigator."

"I still don't think you should have let him blackmail you." Egor was sullen now.

"What are we supposed to do? Chain him to his bunk?" Tambu's annoyance was beginning to show. "We can't hold people against their will. Even if we could, I wouldn't. I want ships crewed by free men, not slaves."

"Well, I still think you should have talked to me," Egor grumbled.

"I was going to, Egor," Tambu apologized. "But things have been so hectic at this end I haven't had time."

"That's been happening a lot lately," Egor complained bitterly. "I always seem to be at the end of your priority list. You can find time for everybody but your old friends."

"Damn it, Egor," Tambu snapped. "I spend more time talking to you than with any three of my other captains."

"Which is less than a tenth of the time you used to have for me! Of course, now that you're a big shot, I can't expect you to waste your precious time on my problems."

Tambu drew a long breath before responding.

"Look, Egor," he said gently. "Speaking for a moment as an old friend, you might ease up a little on your crew. If you did, a lot of the problems you're having would never arise."

"Don't tell me how to run my ship! I'm allowed to do things my way as long as it doesn't go against the rules. You just worry about the fleet and keep your bloody hands off my ship!"

"Captain Egor," Tambu replied coldly. "If you wish to retain full responsibility for the running of your ship, I suggest that you be man enough to begin taking full responsibility for solving your own problems instead of whining for me to clean up your messes. Tambu out!"

"But-"

Tambu smashed his fist down on the activator switch, cutting off Egor's response.

A touch at his shoulder made him jump. He had forgotten that Ramona was in the room.

"I'm sorry, Ramona," he sighed, sinking back in his chair. "I didn't think things were going to get that hot."

"How many times do I have to tell you," she said gently, standing behind him to massage his neck and shoulders, "it's Ratso now, not Ramona. You should follow your own rules."

"I don't like the name Ratso," he complained. "I'll use it in formal communications, but privately you'll always be Ramona to me."

"Other crewmen have picked names you don't like, but you use them," she teased.

"I don't sleep with the other members of the force! I just can't accept the idea of sharing a bed with someone called Ratso."

They had drifted into an affair after several months of working together. What began as a shared moment of passion had grown into a gentle and tender partnership which neither of them questioned.

"When are you going to do something about Egor?" she asked absently.

"Egor's one of OUT oldest captains. His seniority gives him certain considerations."

"He's a braggart and a bully. Everyone in the fleet knows that."

"He has an irritating manner," Tambu admitted, "but he's a good man. You've just got to know him before you can see through his bluster."

"If so, you must be the only one who can do it. The other captains are wondering why you don't boot him out, or at least pull his command."

"Look, just drop it, huh?" Tambu winced. "Egor is my problem, so it's up to me to come up" with a solution. Okay?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "Didn't mean to get on your back. Did you get any sleep at all last night?"

"Not much," he sighed, relaxing under her skillful hands. "It seems everyone has decided that the easiest time to get through to me is the middle of the night. Then again, there's all this."

He gestured at the papers on his desk.

"What is all that, anyway?" Ramona asked. "You've been working on it nonstop for a couple of weeks now."

"I've been going over the books checking our cash flow," he explained. "I've got to check the numbers again, but if the preliminary figures hold true, we're going to be out of business by the end of the year."

"Are things that bad?"

"Actually, things are that good." Tambu laughed bitterly. "We're suffering from being too successful. There are only so many pirates for us to capture, and the ones that are left are giving us wide berth. We've been paying the crews out of the treasury for nearly a year now, and we aren't making enough in salvage and reward money to replenish it. In short, our expenses have remained constant while our income has gone down. We're in trouble."

"Actually, our expenses have gone up," Ramona commented thoughtfully. "Now that we're up to twenty-four ships..."

"Twenty-eight."

"Twenty-eight?" she echoed. "Where did the other four ships come from?"

"One captured, three joined." he recited mechanically.

"Joined?" Ramona frowned. "But you can't keep letting new ships into the fleet."

"I thought you were the one who argued for that in the first place," Tambu teased. "Most of the ships in the fleet are joiners."

"At first, yes. But we can't keep expanding if we're running out of money and targets."

"We need the extra ships and the contacts."

"But that just means more..." She broke off and looked at him suspiciously. "You've got a plan, don't you? You always have a plan."

"Not always, but most of the time."

"Well, come on," she prodded, poking him in the ribs. "What is it?"

"Nothing much," he said casually. "Just a complete reformatting of our force."

He paused, as if expecting her to respond enthusiastically. Instead, she gnawed her lip.

"How complete?" she asked warily.

"Well, so far we've been living on rewards and salvage. The books show the flaw in that system--no fighting, no loot. I figure we're ready to move onto the next social stage."

"And that would be... ?"

"That we hire ourselves out as a peacekeeping force. That way we get paid whether there's fighting or not. In fact the less fighting there is, the more we should be paid."

"How do you figure that?"

"Easy," he smiled, "in theory, we'll be paid to keep the trade routes free of pirates. If we botch the job and somebody loses a shipment, we might have to refund part of our fee; but as long as things go smoothly, we get full payment."

"Full payment from who? Refund our fee to who?" Ramona pressed. "Just who are you expecting to foot the bill for all this?"

"The ones who are benefiting from our services. The corporations and the merchants. I still have to figure out how to spread the cost around proportionately but I figure it should be a small percentage of the value of each shipment, to be paid equally by the shipper and the receiver."

"What if they won't pay?" Ramona asked pointedly. "So far they've been getting the service for free."

"If they won't pay, we take our ships away and guard the systems that will pay. When the word gets around that a system is unguarded, the pirates will move in again. Sooner or later, the systems will come around to seeing it our way and will ante up."

"I don't know. It sounds a little too good to be true. I'd like to hear what a couple of the other captains have to say about this."

"I can go you one better than that. You'll have a chance to hear what all the captains have to say about it."

"How so?"

"I'm planning to have a mass meeting of the entire fleet, specifically to get the captains all in one place so I can sell this idea to them all at once. It's a little too big for a unilateral decision."

"And if they don't agree with you?"

"Then I'll resign and let someone else take a shot at running the show." Tambu's tone was light, but his sagging shoulders betrayed the depth of his emotion. "I see it as our only hope for survival, but I can't lead if no one will follow."

"Then it's a unilateral decision," Ramona stated flatly. "No one's going to buck you if you feel that strongly about it."

"Don't be so sure. Sometimes I think some of the captains automatically take the opposite position I do just to be ornery."

"I am sure," Ramona insisted. "And if you don't realize what's going on, it's about time you took another look at things. Sure the captains argue with you, because they know you respect people who think for themselves and speak their minds. You tell each person who signs on this force that you won't tolerate 'yes-men,' and they take it to heart. They'll argue because you tell 'em to, but don't kid yourself into thinking they'll go against you on anything big. You're Tambu, and you call the shots in this outfit. They wouldn't have it any other way."

Tambu stared at the blank viewscreen, avoiding her eyes as he thought.

"I don't know," he sighed finally. "I hope you're wrong, but a lot of what you're saying fits what's been going on. You know what they say about absolute power corrupting absolutely? Well, I'm no different from anybody else. It scares me to think what I'd be like if I let myself believe I've got total control over the force. I mean, even with the ships we have now, without any further expansion, we're strong enough to seize and hold a half dozen systems-not planets, systems. We could do it, and there's not a force in the universe that could stop us."

"You know, I hadn't thought about it, but you're right." Ramona admitted.

"But, you see, that's what bothers me," Tambu pressed earnestly. "I do think about those things. That's what scares me. Do you know the thing that makes me suppress the thoughts? I don't think the force would go along with it. The fact that it's immoral or wrong doesn't enter my mind, just that I don't think the force would back me. I think they'd finally be convinced I'd lost my mind and toss me out on my ear. Maybe I shouldn't say it, but I like being Tambu. With all the arguments and the lost sleep, I like running the force."

"I know," Ramona soothed, rubbing his shoulders again. "I'd hate to think you were putting up with all this if you didn't like it. As you say, you're no different than anybody else. There's a need inside everybody to make an impact on society or history... to make a difference. Where you're special is that you can do it. How many people could run this force, much less build it? You have something-call it charisma or whatever, but people trust you and believe in you. They believe that you'll make that difference in history, and if they follow you, they'll be a part of it. They believe that in serving under you, they'll go further than they ever would on their own, and they're right. Would Egor or Puck ever command a ship of their own if you hadn't given them the opportunity? You talk about the force. You are the force. The captains and their crews are loyal to you, not the force. They tolerate each other because you order it, but you're the glue that holds the whole thing together."

"That's the other reason I'm calling for a mass meeting," Tambu muttered darkly. "I want the captains to start interacting more, not just tolerating each other. I'm betting that once they're all together, talking and sharing drinks, they'll find out that their problems are not unique or individual, but shared by every other captain in the fleet. With any luck, friendships will spring up and they'll start calling each other for answers instead of coming to me all the time. I'll wait until the end of the meeting to see if anyone else suggests making the meeting an annual affair-and if no one does, I'll suggest it myself."

"I don't know if you're overestimating the force or underestimating them," Ramona commented, shaking her head. "But it's not going to work."

"Thanks. I always appreciate a little support for my plans."

"Oh, the meeting will go okay, but I don't think it will accomplish what you want it to-your hidden motive, I mean."

"Hidden motive?" Tambu frowned.

"You should listen to yourself as closely as you listen , to the captains," Ramona laughed. "What you've been I saying is that if the captains start talking to each other and find answers among themselves, then maybe it will ease your status as answer man, that it will give you a chance to ease down off your pedestal. What you're overlooking is that you're still instigating it, and the captains will see that. None of them thought of getting together to help each other until you ordered it, just like no one thought of assembling a space fleet until you did it. It may get you off the spot for specific questions and issues, but you'll still be Number One who can do things no one else even thinks of."

"I don't know. I'm too tired to think straight anymore. Maybe it will seem clearer tomorrow."

"How tired are you?" Ramona drawled, pressing herself against him.

"Well..." Tambu mused with mock solemnity, "I was thinking of going to bed."

They kissed and moved toward the bed with their arms around each other's waists.

The communications console chimed softly.

Ramona groaned dramatically, and Tambu swore under his breath.

"I'll try to keep this short," he promised.

A glance at the call board identified the call as coming from the Raven. Whitey!

"Yes, Whitey?" he asked flipping on the activator switch.

As Whitey's face swam into focus, he noted there were circles of fatigue under her eyes.

"Sorry to call you so late," she apologized, "but I just finished a brainstorming session with my crew and wanted to get a hunk of uninterrupted time with you."

"What's the problem?"

"Well, we just finished investigating a complaint by some of the planetside folk that a couple of our boys busted up a bar and put two people in the hospital."

"Which crewmen?"

"That's the whole point. When we checked, it turned out that it wasn't our crew at all. A couple of planetside toughs were throwing their weight around and saying they were Tambu's men so they could get away with it We've had the authorities go through our crew roster, and the witnesses confirmed it wasn't any of our crew; but in the meantime the pilot of our shuttle got jumped at the spaceport and was beaten pretty badly."

"That's unfortunate, but I don't see what I can do about it."

"There's nothing you can do about this specific incident," Whitey agreed, "but the crew came up with an idea that could affect the whole fleet. They say they're tired of taking the blame for things other people do posing as Tambu's men. They suggested we adopt an emblem or something that could be worn by each crew member when they went planetside so that folks would know who they are. We're going to try it for the Raven's crew, but you might want to consider doing it with the whole fleet."

"What kind of emblem?" Tambu queried.

"We haven't decided yet," Whitey admitted. "But we're thinking in terms of a belt or an armband, something like that."

"How are you going to keep those same toughs from making their own copies?" Tambu frowned.

"I'll tell you one thing," Whitey grinned. "If they do, I wouldn't want to be in their shoes if any of my crew caught them."

"That's not good enough," Tambu insisted. "Tell you what; call the main spokesmen for your crew up to your cabin and let's kick this around a little more."

Insulated by the intricacies of this new problem, he never heard Ramona as she quietly let herself out of his cabin.