Tambu Read online

  "Are you going to tell me the plan or not?"

  "Well, I got the idea from an item on the agenda for the next captains' meeting," Tambu began.

  "Swell! I haven't seen a copy of the agenda yet."

  "I know. I haven't distributed them yet."

  "Tell me the plan!"

  Tambu yawned. "As I was saying before I was interrupted, there is an item on the agenda calling for the formation of a Captains Council. The general idea is to select a dozen or so captains, each of whom will meet with small groups of ships throughout the year. Then, at the yearly meeting, they will represent the ships in the policy arguments with me. It's an attempt to avoid mob scenes like last year's meeting when there were too many captains, all trying to talk at once on every subject."

  "Will the other captains be allowed to attend, too?" Ramona asked.

  "I don't know. Hopefully, there would be enough trust in the Council that it wouldn't be necessary for the other captains to sit in. It wouldn't surprise me, though, if they insisted on attending for the first few years until that trust was built."

  "What has this got to do with your plan?" Ramona pressed.

  "Isn't it obvious?" Tambu blinked. "That Council could take over as the governing body of the fleet after I'm gone."

  "Do you think the fleet will go along with that?" Ramona asked. "I mean, everybody's used to having one person at the top. I'm not sure they'll like switching over to rule by committee."

  "I think the fleet would be better off with a council calling the shots. If you put all the weight on one person, there's too much chance that he'll fold-or worse, abuse the power. If they really want one person at the controls, though, I suppose they could choose one or let the Council choose one."

  "Anyone specific in mind?" Ramona asked.

  "If I had to name my successor or make a recommendation," Tambu frowned, "I'd have to go with A.C. She's shrewd as well as intelligent, and gutsy enough for three people."

  "She also has a temper that won't quit," Ramona observed dryly.

  "Nobody will be ideal. I'm hoping that the added responsibility would calm her down."

  "There is one person who's ideal," Ramona suggested.

  "Who's that?"

  "You," Ramona said bluntly. "Face it, love, you invented the job and defined its range and parameters. No matter who gets picked, nobody's going to be better at being Tambu than Tambu."

  " But I've told you how I feel about that,'' he protested.

  "Yes, you have," Ramona retorted. "Now let me tell you how the fleet will feel. The captains will feel betrayed, abandoned, and shat upon. They're in the fleet because they believe in you and you believe in what you're doing. How do you think they'll feel when you try to take that away from them? I say 'try,' because I'm not sure they'll let you step down."

  "How will they stop me--kill me?" Tambu laughed sardonically. "That's what it would take, and either way, they won't have Tambu at the controls anymore. No, hopefully they'll realize that if I'm not working willingly, I'll be no good to them at all."

  "That's if they're thinking logically, which they don't always do," Ramona retorted. "At the very least, a lot of people are going to try to talk you out of it."

  "I know. One of the things I don't know yet is how and when I'm going to make the announcement-if at all. It'll blow things wide open if I do it at the captains' meeting. Ideally, I'd like to wait until the Council idea has been passed and the members chosen, then tell them in a private meeting. That would give me some time to work with them, train them, and help organize the new structure before I left. I'll just have to wait and see what the temperature of the water is like at the meeting before I make up my mind on that. Maybe it would be easier to just establish the structure and then disappear-you know, missing in action. They can't argue with me if they can't find me."

  "Well, I can't see any way you can make a popular move," Ramona said. "If you let the captains in on your decision, they'll turn on you like a pack of animals."

  "So what's new?" Tambu smiled. "I've gotten used to it over the last couple years. You know, Ramona, lately

  I've taken to seeing the captains as opponents rather than allies. They're a force to be dealt with-and they scare me more than the Defense Alliance ever could. If the Alliance starts getting frisky, I've got the fleet to fight them with. If the captains get upset, though, it's just me and them. No one's going to intercede in my behalf."

  Ramona was silent for a few moments.

  At last she sighed, "If that's how you see things, it's probably just as well if you step down. One question, though. You've already made it clear you don't think I could step into your position and run the fleet. What do you think my chances would be of getting a spot on the Council?"

  "You?" Tambu blinked. "But you... I'm sorry. I've been so busy talking about myself, I haven't said anything about my other plans. I was hoping you'd come with me when I left."

  Ramona gnawed her lip for a moment.

  "Thanks for the invitation," she said finally. "Listening to you talk, I wasn't sure I'd be welcome. Now, at least, I know I've got a choice."

  "But will you come with me?"

  "I-I don't know," Ramona admitted. "So much of what I love in you is tied into the fleet. I mean, I love Tambu-and what you've been telling me is you're not Tambu, that you're someone else. I don't know that other person. I'm not sure if I'd love you more or hate you."

  "I had counted on your coming along," Tambu said softly.

  "Would it change your decision if I said I wouldn't go with you?" Ramona asked.

  Tambu looked at her for a long moment, then lowered his eyes and shook his head.

  "Then I'll have to think about it," Ramona sighed. "Come back to bed now. I'll give you my answer before you leave the fleet."

  INTERVIEW XI

  "Did Ramona's argument surprise you? About your being the only one who could run the fleet?"

  "I felt it was exaggerated. There is a natural tendency in any group to feel that the current leader is the only one who can hold things together-particularly if that leader is the one who formed the group originally. A more realistic attitude is found in business, where they maintain that no one is irreplaceable."

  "There it is again," the reporter murmured.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "Hmmm? Sorry, I was just thinking out loud. It's just that throughout the interview, in all your examples, you seem to downplay yourself as a charismatic figure. It's as if you feel that anyone could do what you've done, if given the opportunity."

  "In many ways, you're correct, Mr. Erickson. For a long time I saw myself as nothing more than an opportunistic space bum who got lucky. I didn't consider myself a charismatic figure so much as a weak leader who was scrambling desperately trying to live up to the faith and trust that others had placed in him. I didn't control or manipulate circumstances, they controlled me. I dealt with situations as they arose in the manner I thought best at that time. It's been only recently that I've begun to realize how exceptional one must be to do the job I've done. That's what's given me my confidence, but it had to be built slowly over my entire career. I didn't start with it."

  "So at the time you considered retiring, you still felt that any one of a number of people could run the fleet, once you turned your files over to them?" the reporter guessed.

  "That is correct. Aside from the fact that I had designed the job, I didn't see why I should be singled out to serve. While a new leader would have doubtless handled things differently, I was confident that the position was transferable."

  "You were just going to walk away from it?" Erickson marveled. "The power, the notoriety, everything? Just up and leave it?"

  "That's correct. And believe me, the decision was every bit as hard as it sounds. You see, I like being Tambu. That's one thing that was not mentioned in that conversation. There is something giddy and addictive about having a roomful of powerful people hanging on your every word, waiting for your commands or pronouncemen
ts."

  "And, of course, there's always the detail of having the power of life and death over a vast number of people," the reporter added.

  "Unfortunately, yes. It's at once appealing and horrifying. I feel it speaks highly of me that I could have seriously planned to give it up."

  "I assume you changed your mind again after the mood passed." Erickson smiled.

  "It was more than a mood. And it wasn't the lure of power that made me change my plans."

  "Did Ramona talk you out of it, then?"

  "No, she didn't even try."

  "Then the captains must have raised sufficient protest-"

  "Mr. Erickson," Tambu interrupted, "I think you fail to realize the strength of my will. Once my mind was made up, no person or group of people could have changed it. When the yearly meeting was convened, I had every intention of carrying out my plan."

  "Yet you are still obviously in command of the fleet. When you made your announcement, something must have happened to change your plans."

  "As a matter of fact," Tambu reminisced softly, "the subject never came up."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Tambu watched silently as the captains gathered for the yearly meeting. For nearly an hour now he had been sitting in front of his viewscreen, watching and listening.

  Other years, he had waited until the signal came for the meeting ship that the captains were assembled and ready before activating his screen to call the group to order. Usually, his last hours before the meeting were filled with activity as he organized his notes, reviewed personnel files, and made last-minute additions to his plans for the upcoming year.

  This year was different. This year, he had been watching the room when the first captains appeared and helped themselves to the coffee provided by the host crew. This year, he studied each of the captains as they entered the meeting room, observing their expression and body tension, noting whom they chose to talk with prior to the meeting.

  His spying was born of nervousness and anxiety over the course of today's meeting. He wanted the Council motion to pass-smoothly if possible-but if need be, he was ready to bend a few people to push it through. If the motion didn't pass, it would delay his retirement until an alternate system could be devised and approved.

  The captains would probably raise their eyebrows if they knew how closely they were being scrutinized, but the odds of them finding out were slim to nonexistent. Only Tambu and Egor knew he was watching, and Egor could be trusted to keep the secret. That was partially the reason he had chose the Scorpion as the site for this year's meeting. The other reason was that he wanted to provide one final public display of his approval of Egor, hopefully to end once and for all the criticisms of his friend which abounded in the fleet.

  He wondered for a moment if Egor would resign once he learned of Tambu's plans, but dismissed the thought. Egor's reaction, like those of the other captains, would be apparent soon enough when he made the announcement. Until then, it was a waste of mental energy to try to second guess what would happen.

  His attention turned again to the figures on the screen. For the first time in years he viewed them as individuals rather than as business associates. A lot of his hopes were riding on the people in that room. He had picked them, trained them, argued with them, and bled with them. Could they hold the fleet together after he was gone? If anyone could, they could. There would be some changes, of course-possibly even some major policy revisions. Still, they were experienced captains, and he was confident they would rise to the challenge.

  Egor came forward, moving toward the screen. He had been standing by the door, greeting each captain and checking them off on the master list as they arrived. The fact that he had abandoned his post signaled that all were in attendance now. The captains knew that, too, and began drifting toward their seats as Egor began working the viewscreen controls.

  A blinking red light appeared on Tambu's console, the ready signal. He paused for a moment, looking at the expectant assemblage. This was the fleet! His creation! Realization came to him that this would be the last time he would deal with them, command them as a unit.

  With leaden slowness, he leaned toward the mike. "Good morning. I trust everyone is well rested and ready for a full day's business?"

  Assorted groans and grimaces greeted his words. This had come to be a traditional opening. He knew, as they did, that the yearly meetings had become a week-long social gathering and party for the crews. That, combined with the captains' own last-minute preparations, usually guaranteed that no one arrived at the meeting well rested.

  "Before we begin," he continued, "I'd like to take a moment to thank Captain Egor and the Scorpion's crew for hosting this year's meeting. As those of you who have hosted these meetings in the past will testify, there's a lot of work that goes into the preparations. Egor?"

  Egor rose to a round of automatic applause, and gestured for silence.

  "My crew has asked me to convey their regrets and apologies to you for their absence from the pre-meeting parties on board the other ships," he announced with pompous formality. "Contrary to popular belief, this is not because I've confined them to the ship."

  Egor paused for a moment, but no laughter greeted his attempted joke.

  "Actually," he continued, "they've been working on their own on a surprise they've cooked up for today's meeting. I don't know what it is, but they've been planning it ever since they found out the yearly meeting was going to be on the Scorpion-and if I know my crew, it should be memorable."

  He sat down, and Tambu waited until the polite applause died.

  "Thank you, Egor. Now, before we get into the agenda, I'd like to announce a change in policy as to how this meeting is to be conducted. As you recall, last year we encountered difficulty discussing points on the agenda, both from the size of the assemblage, and from my attempting to guide the discussion from the chair. Well, this year, we're going to try something different."

  A low murmur rose at this, but most of the captains listened in rapt attention.

  "This year, we will have a captain conduct the discussion from the floor of the meeting. If I have something to say, I'll have to wait my turn with the rest of you. In an effort to maintain complete impartiality, I have assigned a different captain to each item on the agenda. These captains were chosen at random, and their names subsequently withdrawn from the pool until every captain has conducted a discussion."

  The murmur rose to a buzz as the captains discussed the announcement. As Tambu had predicted, most of the reactions were favorable.

  "Now, then," Tambu said after the captains had quieted down, "I believe we're ready to start on the agenda. The first item is a proposal for a Council of Captains to replace or supplement the yearly meetings. Captain Ratso, will you conduct the discussion, please?"

  The random selection of captains had been a white lie. Tambu had specifically chosen Ramona to conduct this first discussion and had briefed her carefully as to how it was to be done. He had two very important reasons for doing this. First, her handling of the discussion would set the pattern for the other discussion leaders to follow. More important, this item would be the key for his smooth retirement, and he wanted it handled carefully. While Ramona hadn't given him her answer yet whether or not she would accompany him when he left, she was as eager as he to be sure that his departure was handled with a minimum of hassle on all fronts.

  "Thank you, Tambu," Ramona said, taking her place at the front of the room. "This item could have a major effect on all of us. I think we are in agreement that these meetings are getting too large to handle the problems that arise each year. We need an alternative to the mass yearly meetings to conduct our business. The question is, is this proposal the best solution? A.C.? Would you start the discussion please?"

  Tambu smiled to himself as A.C. clambered onto her chair. Ramona was following his instructions to the letter. A.C. was one of the best shotgunners at the meeting, lying back quietly until everyone had committed themselves to an op
inion, then cutting the legs out from under them. By setting her up to speak first, Ramona was ensuring that A.C. would be the one on the defensive instead of having the final shot.

  "I don't think we need a Captain's Council at all," A.C. declared loudly. "In fact, before this item appeared on the agenda, I was going to move that we abolish the yearly meetings altogether."

  An angry snarl greeted this suggestion. Tambu rocked back and forth in his chair gleefully. This was better than he had hoped. A.C.'s abrupt negativism was setting the assembly against her. That meant they would be that much more receptive to a positive proposal.

  "Grow up, people!" A.C. was shouting at her decriers. "Can't you accept the facts? Didn't the boss spell it out for you last year? The captains have no power at all--we're paper dragons. Tambu calls the shots, and his word is final. All we do is provide background noise. He lets us get together and talk and argue so we'll think we've got a say in what's going on, but it doesn't really matter. He gives the orders and that's that."

  She turned to face the front of the room, and for a moment Tambu had the uncomfortable feeling she could see him through the screen.

  "Don't get me wrong, boss. I'm not complaining. I think you're doing a terrific job of running the show. You're fair, you're careful, and you have a better feel for what's going on in the fleet than any five or ten or twenty of us put together. Now, I don't pretend I agree wholeheartedly with all your decisions, particularly when they're shoved down my throat. In the long run, though, I've got to admit you've been right. If I didn't feel that way, I wouldn't still be with you-and neither would anyone else in this room. You're the boss, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

  Tambu writhed before this display of loyalty. Without knowing it, A.C. had voiced a strong argument against his retirement. It stood as a grim warning of what he could expect when he made his announcement.

  "I hate to interrupt, A.C.," Ramona said, "but you're supposed to be giving your views on the proposal on the floor."