Tambu

CHAPTER THREE

"How much longer until they can see us?"

As Puck's voice came over the intercom, Tambu punched the 'talk' button on his command console, not taking his eye from the two ships on the viewscreen.

"Stow the chatter, Puck." he ordered. "Just keep watching that upper turret.

As might well be expected, they were all nervous. The next few minutes could well be the culmination of nearly a year's preparations.

Refitting the ship had taken much longer than any of them had anticipated, not to mention costing considerably over the original estimates. The results were heartening, however. The ship, now named the Scorpion, had a sting to be reckoned with in the form of four long-range slicers. Hendricks had assured them that they were now armed better than any ship currently registered. The only discomforting thought was that not all pirate ships were registered.

Even more important than the weapons, and twice as costly, were the custom scanners which allowed them to appraise a situation from a position well outside the range of another ship's detection equipment.

That plus several months of practice made the Scorpion and her crew formidable opponents. When they were all in agreement that they were ready to do combat, a new problem arose. How do you find the pirates?

Their only solution had led them here, to the Weisner System, which reported the highest frequency of pirate attacks. Prepared for a waiting game, they had struck paydirt almost immediately. In orbit over Magnus, the largest inhabited planet in the system, their detectors found two ships lying side by side. One was disabled and showed signs of recent damage, while the other seemed to be unscratched, and had two turret guns prominently mounted on her exterior.

It could be a pirate in the process of looting a victim. Then again, it could simply be a commercial ship answering a distress call. The problem was one captains had been wrestling with for over a decade. How do you tell a pirate from any other ship until he fires on you?

A hurried conference among the Scorpion's crew yielded the current course of action. They would ease close enough to the two ships that their guns would be in firing range, but the smaller guns of the functional ship would be unable to reach them to return fire... hopefully. From that position, they would hail the ship, offering assistance, and try to determine the situation confronting them.

Of course, there were several precautions they took to insure their safety in the maneuver. First, they kept their solar sails furled, relying on their storage batteries for power. Although this meant less power for their weapons or for emergency flight, Tambu reasoned that the fighting, if there was any, would be over quickly one way or another.

They angled their approach so that they were not aligned with the guns of their potential opponent, thus guaranteeing themselves first-shot capability before any fire could be brought to bear on them. Finally, Egor and Puck were manning batteries of two guns each, keeping them closely trained on the turret guns of the ship they were approaching while Whitey handled the actual maneuvering of the Scorpion. Tambu stood by ready to handle the talking once they opened communications.

They had taken every precaution possible, short of simply bypassing the entire situation. Both of the ships they were approaching had their sails out, obviously not combat ready in their vulnerability. Still the crew of the Scorpion were wet-palmed nervous-individually and as a group.

Another few minutes...

"Whitey?" Tambu asked abruptly.

"Yes, captain?"

"Am I set with a hailing frequency?"

It was a needless question, one that he had asked before. Tambu was no more immune to the strain of nerves than any of the others in his crew.

"Sure are, captain. They should be able to hear you now if you want to start."

They were within the range of the Scorpion's armaments now. Tambu knew that if he waited much longer, they would be vulnerable to return fire from the other ship. Licking his dry lips, he reached for the hailing microphone.

"Captain!"

At least two voices called to him from the ship's intercom, their exact identity lost in the garble of their overlap.

"I see it!" he barked. "Open fire!"

One of the turret guns on the functional ship they were approaching had begun to move, swiveling toward them in smooth silence.

Even as Tambu gave the order, the guns of the Scorpion opened up, the orange beams of slicers darting out like striking snakes toward their would-be assailant.

Though the crew of the Scorpion had practiced often and long with their slicers in mock attacks on small asteroids and occasionally on the face of an uninhabited planet, they had never seen the actual effect of their weapons on another ship. Now they had a front-row seat.

There was no explosion, no shower of sparks or flame. The portion of the rival ship which came into contact with the orange beams simply melted away like thin plastic before a soldering iron. One of the beams hit a sail, severing the tip. The remaining portion of the sail crumpled slowly as the severed tip began to drift away into open space. Both turret guns simply vanished, erased completely by direct hits from the slicers.

"Cease fire!" Tambu shouted, finding his voice at last.

The beams halted at the sound of his command, and silence reigned as they surveyed their handiwork.

The stricken ship's hull was already healing itself. The outer hulls on all ships were triple thickness with auto guidance to slide new plates into place in event of damage severe enough to cause interior pressure loss. Soon the exterior of the ship would be repaired. They could only guess at the interior damage of their attack.

Tambu's eyes wandered to the third ship, floating silently next to their recent opponent. Having now seen how fast a ship could heal itself after an attack, he could appreciate anew the extent of the attack which had wrecked such havoc as to leave a ship gaping open like that.

"We got him!" Puck's awe-filled voice came over the intercom.

"Keep your guns on him!" Tambu snapped. "We don't know if he has any more surprises up his sleeve."

"Captain?" Whitey joined the conversation. "Aren't you going to try hailing them now?"

There was something in her voice that caught Tambu's attention. In contrast to Puck's enthusiasm, Whitey seemed almost pensive. "Is something bothering you, Whitey?" he asked.

"Well... it occurs to me that except for some shooting, nothing has changed." she replied hesitantly. "We still don't know whether or not they're pirates."

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then the crew erupted in protest.

"Cm'n, Whitey!" Egor groaned. "He was getting ready to shoot at us."

"That's right," Puck added. "He wouldn't have done that if-"

"Sure he would," Whitey interrupted. "Any of us would. If an unidentified ship came easing up to us with its sails in and its guns out, what would we do? We'd crank our guns around and cover the bastard until he said who he was and what he wanted. That ship couldn't have known whether or not we were pirates just like we didn't know if he was a pirate--and we still don't."

"What were we supposed to do?" Egor snarled. "Wait until he opened fire and cut us in half?"

"Whitey's right," Tambu said softly.

"But-captain-" Egor protested.

"She's right." There was a bitter firmness to Tambu's voice now. "We don't know. We've got to find out-if it's not too late. Whitey, are we still set for hailing?"

"Affirmative, captain."

Tambu slowly picked up the hailing microphone, hesitated, then depressed the transmission button.

"This is Tambu, captain of the Scorpion. Identify yourselves and state your condition."

There was no response.

"This is the Scorpion," he repeated. "We want identification of either or both of the two ships in our vicinity. Do you require assistance?"

It seemed strange, offering assistance to a ship they had been firing at a few minutes before. Still there was no response, nor was there any sign of movement from either of the other two ships floating on the viewscreen.

Setting the hailing microphone aside, Tambu flipped several switches on his command console, then settled himself in the swivel chair, one hand resting on a small keyboard.

"Egor!" he called into the intercom.

"Yes, captain?"

"I'm taking over your battery. Take a shuttle over and investigate that ship-the one we fired on. Check for survivors, and look for any records or logs to tell us what kind of ship she is. And Egor... ?"

"Yes, captain?"

"Go armed. Take along a hand communicator and stay in touch."

Then there was nothing to do but wait. Tambu keyed his mind to detect movement from either of the other two ships and blotted out everything else. Even when the shuttlecraft finally appeared on the screen heading out on its mission he did not comment or react. Instead, he thought.

Their procedure had been in error; yet there was no other course they could have followed. They had blundered forward, forcing a confrontation whether the opposing ship was a pirate or a legitimate commercial vessel. Even catching a pirate in the act, they were left unsure as to its identity or motives. Moving in blindly as they had done was wrong, yet they could not afford to let a pirate take the initiative. Just as in this encounter, if fighting was involved, whoever shot first and straightest survived. The other...

How could they identify a pirate? How did pirates operate? He'd have to think like a pirate. A pirate's main weapon would be his anonymity, not his guns. By approaching another ship under the guise of a distress call-perhaps a request for medical assistance or repairs-a pirate could strike the first and final blow before their victim was aware of its danger.

That only emphasized their problem. Scorpion couldn't wait to be fired on to identify her enemies. How to pierce the cloak of secrecy? How to anticipate...

Perhaps that was the answer. How did pirates know where to hunt? Surely pirates couldn't rely on circumstance to find ships to prey on. They needed some method to find target ships-specifically target ships with large, expensive cargos. If the Scorpion could find out how the pirates set their traps, if they could anticipate where the pirates would be and be there waiting for them, then they might have a chance.

But how were they to find out how the pirates operated?

"You're awfully quiet, captain." Whitey's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Just thinking, Whitey," he replied absently.

"You aren't blaming yourself for what happened, are you? Heck, we all had a part in it. If we made a mistake, we're all at fault."

"That's right." Puck's voice chimed in. "You didn't even do any shooting. Egor and I were the ones who jumped the gun."

"At my command," Tambu said pointedly. "Just as we moved in on the ships at my command."

"But like Whitey said," Puck insisted, "we all had a part in it-the planning and the execution!"

"Ships aren't run by committee," Tambu reminded him. "That's why you made me captain. Besides getting the lion's share of the glory and profits when we do well and having last say on policy, being captain means that I hold the bag if things go wrong. It goes with the job. Isn't that right, Whitey? You were the one smart enough to dodge the captain's post. Wasn't avoiding responsibility one of your main reasons? Then don't lecture me about how I shouldn't feel responsible."

"I've got an answer to that," Whitey answered. "It's called the Nuremberg trials. The weight of responsibility falls on everyone in the chain of command, not just the one who gives the orders. If we were wrong, if we just shot up a commercial ship instead of a pirate, then we're pirates-all of us. If they catch us, they'll hang all of us, not just you, captain."

"Touch‚!" Tambu laughed. But I wish you didn't have to be quite so morbid with your example."

"Not to change the subject, captain, but can we afford to get a few more viewscreens installed?" Whitey asked. Then we can keep one thing on the main screen and still have a couple of little ones for talking to each other. I don't know about you, but I like to see people when I'm talking to them. Otherwise I can't always tell if they're serious or joking."

"That will depend on what those two ships have on board," Tambu answered. "Whether we're pirate or pirate hunter, I figure we have salvage rights on both vessels."

"There should be a bundle after we sell the ships," Puck declared.

"We'll see," Tambu said.

"What do you mean, 'We'll see'?" Whitey asked, her voice suddenly sharp. "We are going to sell the ships, aren't we?"

"Egor to Tambu. Do you read me?"

Egor's voice blared suddenly over the console speaker, cutting off their discussion.

"This is Tambu. Go ahead."

"We're in the clear, captain. This is a pirate ship, all right."

Relief washed over Tambu like a cool wave, freeing his mind of its slowly building tensions.

"The ship's name is the Mongoose," Egor continued.

"It inflicted the damage on the other ship. That one's called the Infidel."

"Wait a minute," Tambu interrupted. "What is the source of your information? How do you know the Mongoose is a pirate ship?"

"I've got a survivor here. Found him hiding in the corridor. He's more than a little hysterical. Keeps babbling that he doesn't want to be hanged. Claims he'll tell us anything or do anything if we don't turn him over to the authorities."

Tambu leaned forward with a new eagerness. The survivor might be able to supply them with the answers to some of the questions they had on how pirates operated.

"Is he the only survivor?" he asked.

"He's the only one on this ship. There were three others who bought it when we chewed 'em up with our slicers. But you ready for this? There are six more on board the Infidel."

"What?" Tambu was unable to contain his surprise.

"That's right. A bunch of the crew took a shuttle over to check the Infidel's cargo just before we showed up. One of them is the Mongoose's captain."

Tambu paused to think. On the one hand, the captured pirates could supply them with much-needed information. On the other hand, they outnumbered the Scorpion's crew seven to four. That could be trouble--particularly if they still had their captain to lead them.

"Do you want me to take the shuttle over and check 'em out?" Egor asked, breaking the silence.

"No! Stay where you are for now. I need you there to make sure none of them try to sneak back on board."

Actually, Tambu was afraid the pirates would overpower Egor if he tried to board the Infidel, but he didn't want to say that. Egor was so proud of his brawling abilities that he might just take it as a challenge and try it on his own.

"Do you have any way of communicating with the boarding party?" Tambu asked.

"Just a second-I'll check."

There was a brief silence, then Egor spoke again.

"They're using hand communicators, same as us. They're on a different frequency though. I can hold mine next to theirs if you want to talk to them direct."

"Just relay this message to their captain. Tell him to take their shuttle to our ship-alone. I want to talk to him. Let me know when you get confirmation."

Staring at the ships on the viewscreen, Tambu set aside the hailing microphone he had been using to communicate with Egor, then leaned forward to use the ship's intercom speaker.

"Okay, you've heard the plan," he said. "Now here's what I want you to do. Puck, you swing your guns round to cover the Infidel. Whitey, stay with the maneuvering controls, but be ready to take over Egor's battery if anything happens with the Mongoose. The guns should be set already, but check 'em out just to be sure. I want them set so that all you have to do is hit the firing button. I'll go down to the shuttle docking port to deal with the prisoner. Call me on the intercom if anything strange starts to happen. Any questions?"

"Just the one I asked before," Whitey drawled. "I'm still waiting for an answer."

"I'm sorry-I've forgotten the question." Tambu admitted.

"The question was if we were going to sell the two ships, and if not, why?" Whitey prompted.

"We'll discuss it after I've talked to the Mongoose's captain."

"What's to discuss?" Whitey argued. "What would we do with three ships?"

"We could cover three times as much space, or have one very powerful strike force," Tambu snapped back.

"I should think you'd like that, Whitey. It would mean less fighting and fewer casualties on both sides."

"How do you figure that?"

"If you were running a ship and three heavily armed ships overhauled you and demanded you stand by to be boarded and inspected, would you do it? Or would you try to fight?"

"I see what you mean," Whitey admitted. "I sure wouldn't try to fight three ships. But where would we get crews for the other two ships?"

"That's what I want to talk to the captain of the Mongoose about," Tambu confided.

"You're thinking of hiring them?" Whitey was incredulous. "But they're pirates!"

"Egor to Tambu. Do you read me?"

"Go ahead Egor."

"I've got confirmation for you. The Mongoose's captain is on her way over."

Tambu's eyes jumped to the viewscreen. The shuttle-craft was clearly in sight, steering a straight course for the Scorpion. Then something that Egor had said registered in his mind.

"Egor! Did you say 'her way'?"

"That's right, my friend. It seems your counterpart is female. Young, too, from the sound of her voice. Her name's Ramona. Have fun with your interview."

Tambu grimaced at the leer in Egor's voice, but nonetheless paused to check his appearance in a mirror before heading for the docking hangar.

The captain of the Mongoose was not beautiful, but neither was she repulsive-or even homely. She was small, barely five feet in height, and stocky without really being overweight. A shock of long auburn hair was pulled back into a pony-tail which descended past her waist, combining with her round face to give her an almost schoolgirl appearance.

"Have a seat, Ramona," Tambu said. "We have a lot to talk about."

The girl sank loosely into a chair, casually dangling one leg over its arm.

"You'll forgive my appearance. I was planning to inspect a cargo, not meeting and impressing new people."

She was wearing a form-fitting T-shirt, dark green with a unicorn on it. Her pants were black denim with button-flap pockets on the thighs, and her boots were ankle-high and soft-soled. She was indeed more appropriately dressed for a work crew than for receiving visitors.

"Your appearance does not concern me," Tambu said. "Nor do I find it unpleasant. I do, however, have several questions for you."

"First, I have a question for you," the girl countered. "What do you intend to do with me and my crew?"

"What is usually done with pirates caught in the very act of committing their crimes?" Tambu asked blandly.

"Usually they are turned over to the authorities on the nearest inhabited planet where they are hanged or shot, with or without trial. Occasionally, they are put to death by the ship which captures them." Ramona's eyes met Tambu's squarely. "I might also add that if your plans for us follow those expected patterns, I see no reason why we should answer your questions or cooperate with you in any way."

"And if our plans were to let you go?"

The girl's posture straightened as her air of studied indifference fell away.

"You'd do that? You'd let us take our ship and go?"

"In exchange for information, we'll let you and the crew go. But not the ship. You'll be dropped planetside with no reference to the authorities as to the nature of your business."

"How do I know you aren't lying?" Ramona scowled.

"What's to keep you from getting the information you want, then turning us in anyway?"

"You have no guarantees. You'll just have to trust me. I might point out, however, that if I were lying, I could afford to be a lot more generous with my promises. I could promise you your crew and your ship. Instead, I'm being honest. The deal is for your lives-not your ship."

"I guess that makes a certain amount of sense."

"You aren't really in much of a bargaining position," Tambu reminded her.

"Let me ask just one more question. If you give me an honest answer to this one, I'll cooperate."

"What's the question?"

Ramona leaned forward, her expression suddenly fierce. "Who double-crossed us?" she demanded. "Was it someone in my crew?"

"No one double-crossed you. At least, to the best of my knowledge."

"Don't give me that." the girl snapped. "I know the Infidel didn't get a distress call out. That means someone had to tip you about when and where we were going to make our intercept. Otherwise, how did you find us?"

"Blind luck. We had no inside information. In fact, we had no information at all other than the news reports of heavy pirate activity in this region."

"But if you weren't specifically looking for us, how did you know we were pirates?" Ramona challenged.

"We didn't." Tambu smiled. "We had our suspicions as we approached the ships, but that was all. We fired in self-defense when the Mongoose turned her guns on us. It wasn't until the surviving crewman confessed that we knew for sure, and even that was uncertain until you confirmed it with your attitude during our interview here."

Ramona was wide-eyed now.

"But-if that's true-" she stammered.

"... You could have bluffed your way out." Tambu finished the thought for her. "It's a little late for that now, don't you think?"

The girl stared wordlessly for a few moments, then threw back her head and laughed.

"Ramona, the crafty pirate," she declared, shaking her head. "Trapped by blind luck and her own big mouth. Forgive me, but if I don't laugh, I might start crying."

Tambu smiled at her. "Now that you're fully aware of the situation, perhaps you will realize why I'm willing to bargain the way I have. Our aim is to be pirate hunters-sort of a cross between bounty hunters and a police force. It's obvious to me now that we can't simply rely on luck to find our prey. We need to know how pirates think... how they operate. That's where you come in. For example, you've implied that you knew in advance where to intercept the Infidel. How did you get that information?"

Ramona blinked, then grimaced slightly.

"You really listen close, don't you? Well, on this particular venture, our information came from inside sources."

"Inside sources?" Tambu frowned.

"That's right. I'll tell you my honest opinion. If you're planning to make a living at this, you've got your work cut out for you. The name of the game is information, and it can take years to build up an effective network. How you're going to get informants who will inform on other informants is beyond me."

"Back up a little," Tambu said thoughtfully. "Who are these informants that make up a network?"

"Almost anyone who has information about shipments and an eye for easy money. When I say 'inside sources,' I'm talking about people within the corporate structure of the outfit shipping the cargo out. It could be a shipping clerk, an accountant, or a secretary. Sometimes the information comes directly from upper management when they want to cash in on a little insurance money."

"So you get your information from the shippers themselves?" Tambu asked.

"Some of it," Ramona corrected. "Sometimes it comes from corporations out to sabotage a rival's shipments. People working at the spaceports themselves are good sources. We even get tips from receiving merchants and corporations who don't want to pay the full price of a shipment."

"I see," Tambu said, pursing his lips. "It sounds as if you have a lot more information than I imagined."

"And you aren't about to let us go until you've pumped it all out of me. Right?" Ramona scowled.

"Actually, I was thinking along different lines. How would you like to come to work for me?"

She held his gaze for a moment, then turned away.

"If you insist," she said flatly. "But you drive a hard bargain. It's extortion, but I don't really have much of a choice, do I?"

"Of course you have a choice!" Tambu thundered, slapping his hand down on the desk hard enough to make it jump with the impact.

Ramona started, taken aback at this sudden display of temper, but Tambu recovered his composure quickly. He rose and began to pace about the room.

"Forgive me," he muttered. "I suppose you have every right to think the way you are. It serves me right for trying to be so cagey instead of laying my cards on the table from the first."

He stopped pacing and perched on the edge of his desk facing her.

"Look," he said carefully, "it's been my intent all along to offer you and your crew positions in my force. I need experienced people-particularly people with experience in space combat-to man my ships. What I don't need are a bunch of sullen animals who think they were blackmailed into serving and who will jump ship or turn on me at the first opportunity. That's why I was saying I'd let you go instead of turning you over to the authorities. If you or any of your crew want to sign on, fine. If not, we'll let them go. Now do we understand each other?"

Again their eyes met. This time Ramona's expression was thoughtful, rather than guarded.

"I'll talk to my crew," she said at last. "For my part, though, the main hesitation isn't money... it's position. I worked a long time to get where I am, captaining my own ship. In all honesty, I'm not sure how content I'd be working under someone else again. Still, if you let me go, I'll probably end up crewing again for a while. I just don't know. I'll have to think about it."

"What if I offered you a position as captain of your own ship?" Tambu asked.

Hope flashed across the girl's face for a moment.

"I don't want to sound suspicious again," she said carefully, "but that sounds a little too good to be true. You capture a pirate ship and crew, then offer to turn them loose again intact? What's to keep us from going back to business as normal as soon as you turn your back?"

"For one thing, your crew would probably be divided up among the available ships under various commanders. For another, we'll probably be operating as a fleet for a while, which would tend to discourage independent action. There is also the minor detail that I plan to be on board your ship."

"That sounds to me like I'd be captain in title only."

"Not at all," Tambu assured her. "It's my plan that the captains under my command have complete autonomy on their ships, providing, of course, that they stay within the general guidelines I set forth for them. I envision my own position to be more of an overall coordinator for the entire force. I suspect that if all goes well, that will occupy my time to a point where I will have neither the time nor the inclination to bother with the operational details of a single ship-including the one I'm on."

He uncoiled from his perch and seated himself at his desk once more.

"My decision to travel on board your ship is to enable myself to more readily obtain specific information from you rather than to imply any distrust. That is actually the answer I should have given you in the first place. I'll have to trust you, as I'll have to trust all my captains. If I don't, the force hasn't a hope of success."

Now it was Ramona's turn to rise and pace as she thought.

"Just how large a fleet are you envisioning?" "I have no exact figure in mind," Tambu admitted, "but I expect we will grow well beyond the three ships we have currently."

"My crew isn't big enough to man even these three ships," she pointed out.

"I know. We'll have to do some additional recruiting. I'll want your advice on that, too."

"Aren't you risking trouble using ex-pirates for crew? I don't mean with mutiny, I'm thinking more about your reputation."

"My crew might object a bit, at first, but they'll accept it. If not, they can be replaced."

"I was more concerned with reactions from the people you'll be dealing with outside the force. I'm not sure how the merchants will take to being protected by the very people who were stealing from them not too long ago."

"We already have a solution to that." Tambu smiled. "We'll change the names of the ships and crew. That way no one outside the force has to know anything about your past. In fact, there's no reason for anyone to know within the force, either. Your crew doesn't know anything about my crew's background or vice versa. There's no reason they should be told, just as there's no reason we should have to give any background information to the new recruits."

"It'll sure make recruiting a lot easier if the new people don't have to admit to any past indiscretions." Ramona admitted. "Even though God knows what we'll get as a result. It's a little like the old French Foreign Legion."

"It's not a bad parallel. I don't really care what the crew did before they joined, as long as they toe the line once they're under my command."

"Discipline could be a problem," Ramona observed thoughtfully. "You know what would really be effective?"

"What's that?"

"If we made you into a real mystery figure. An omnipresent power with no face." Her voice grew more excited as she warmed to the idea. "You know how superstitious crewmen are. You could become a kind of a boogey-man. It could work against the ships we'll be fighting as well as within our own force." "And just how would we accomplish that?" "Hell, we've got a good start already! My crew is already spooked by the way you popped up out of nowhere and blitzed our ship before they could even get a shot off. All we have to do is keep you out of sight, and they'll do the rest. Sound doesn't travel through space, but rumors do. The myth will grow on its own. All we have to do is give it room."

"It won't work." Tambu shook his head. "The one thing I do insist on is meeting each person who's going to serve under me. I have to know who and what I'm commanding if we're going to be effective."

"Do it over a viewscreen. If you keep your sending camera off, you can talk to them and observe them to your heart's content, and all they'll see is a blank screen. As a matter of fact, that would help to build the mystery. Everyone would form their own impression, which means they'll talk about you among themselves trying to get confirmation." "I'll have to think about it."

"Now is the ideal time to start," Ramona pressured. "Right now, the only ones who know what you look like are your crew and myself. If you wait, then you'll have to try to get cooperation out of the combined crews as well as any new recruits. The sooner you start, the easier it will be."

"But if I'm planning to be on your ship-" "You can board ahead of the crew. There's a room off my cabin you could take up residence in without anyone being any the wiser. When they talk to you on the viewscreen, they won't know if your signal is coming from somewhere on board or from another ship."

Tambu leaned back and stared at the ceiling as he turned the thought over in his mind.

"It's a good idea," he admitted finally. "Maybe we can give it a try and see how it works. I'll talk to my crew."

"It'll work," Ramona declared triumphantly. "You know, I think we'll work well together. Who knows? If we play our cards right, we might end up ruling the universe."

"Who wants it? Right now I'll settle for eking out a humble, but substantial, living."

"I know, I know. But when you talk to the new recruits, you might make some veiled references to a secret master plan. It'll help us fill the rosters if they think they're getting in on the ground floor of something big." "They are," Tambu announced solemnly. "The question is how big-and I figure we won't know the answer to that for a long time yet."