Tambu Page 2

  "I must admit you've succeeded there," the reporter smiled, shaking his head ruefully. "So you ran away to space. Then what?"

  "I worked tramp freighters for several years. I had a friend... a close friend. He was several years older than I, and gentle as a kitten for all his strength. We worked several ships together, and probably would still be doing just that except for the mutiny."

  "The mutiny?" Erickson's attention focused on the story possibilities.

  "Not in the sense you're imagining. There was no organized revolt, no dark conspiracy. It just happened. Unfortunately, I can't give you the details without seriously breaching security... both my own and the forces'."

  "Couldn't you omit specific details and change the names?" the reporter pleaded.

  "Possibly... Actually, the important event was not the mutiny, but the decision we reached shortly thereafter."

  CHAPTER ONE

  The plump, red-faced man filled the small captain's cabin with his indignant anger, barely leaving room for his adversary seated behind the desk. This was not unusual. He was Dobbs of Dobbs Electronics, a man who fought his way to the top and who wasn't about to let anyone forget it-not his relatives, not his employees, and definitely not the captain of some second-rate tramp freighter.

  His noisy indignation was his trademark, as was his presence for this transaction. Other business owners would sometimes relax and enjoy their success, delegating menial tasks to their subordinates, but Dobbs was cut from different cloth. He had been there for the unloading, riding the cargo shuttle from the ship to the spaceport planetside and back again. He had personally delivered the payment for the shipment. Therefore it was only natural that he would feel obligated to personally handle this last detail.

  None of the proceedings had met with his approval, but this last oversight was a particular annoyance. He was in the wrong and he knew it, but that knowledge only increased his bitterness. More than anything, Dobbs hated to be wrong. Never one to hide his feelings, particularly his anger, Dobbs let his displeasure show. It showed in his stiff bearing and tight lips, in his ruddy complexion, and in the abrupt way he slammed the attach‚ case down on the desk.

  "There it is." he announced flatly. "The balance of payment. I believe you said fifteen thousand was the difference between the original purchase price and the price you're asking now?"

  "That's not entirely correct," the man seated behind the desk said. "It constitutes the difference in currency exchange between the time of purchase and the time of delivery."

  "Semantics," the visitor countered. "It's still costing my company fifteen thousand more than we planned."

  "As you will." The man at the desk sighed. "Would you care to have a seat while I count it?"

  "I'd rather stand."

  The seated man had been reaching for the attach‚ case, but at his visitor's rebuke he hesitated, then sat back in his chair frowning slightly.

  "Mr. Dobbs... it is Dobbs isn't it? Of Dobbs Electronics?"

  The visitor nodded stiffly, annoyed there had been any doubt as to his identity. He had been dealing with this man off and on for three days now.

  "You seem both upset and determined to express your annoyance by being rude. I find both positions difficult to understand."

  Dobbs started to protest, but the man at the desk continued.

  "First of all, when you ordered your materials Cash On Delivery, you accepted the risk of currency-exchange fluctuations. That is standard in any contract of that kind, but it's still good business. If you paid in advance and our ship was attacked and taken by pirates, you'd be out the full cost of the shipment. As it is, you have to pay only for goods delivered, even though occasionally you have to pay a premium."

  "Occasionally!" Dobbs snorted. "It seems like every time..."

  "And even if I felt the system was unfair, which I don't," the man at the desk continued, "this ship is only the means of delivery. We don't make the rules. We only shuttle materials from point A to point B and collect the money, as instructed. In theory, we shouldn't have allowed your men to unload your cargo until we had collected our payment in full."

  The man was leaning forward now, his eyes burning with a sudden intensity.

  "In short, Mister Dobbs, I feel we've treated you fairly decently through this entire affair. If you have a complaint, I suggest you write a letter. In the meantime, isn't it about time you came down off your high horse and started acting like a human being?"

  Dobbs started to retort angrily, then caught himself, reconsidered, and relaxed, exhaling a long breath. Like most bullies, he would give ground when confronted by a will of equal or greater strength.

  "I guess I have been making a bit of a jackass out of myself, haven't I?" he admitted ruefully.

  "You have." The seated man opened the attach‚ case and began counting.

  Dobbs responded by sinking into the offered chair and leaning forward, his elbows resting lightly in his knees. He had discovered in the past that people were more receptive when approached at eye level.

  "I guess I forgot that the captain of a freighter is a businessman same as me." he confided. "You know, as much as we've seen each other these past couple days, I've never gotten around to asking your name. It's Blutman, isn't it? Ulnar Blutman?"

  "No, it's Eisner, Dwight Eisner. I'm the First Officer. Captain Blutman doesn't like to handle the business end of things, so I take care of it for him."

  "Isn't that a little strange?" Dobbs frowned. Usually..."

  "Mr. Dobbs," Eisner sighed, "if you had treated Ulnar Blutman the way you treated me, I guarantee he would have broken your nose and dumped your goods out the nearest airlock. He is, at best, an unpleasant man."

  "I see," Dobbs commented, taken slightly aback. "Say, are you taking cargo on before you ship out? Maybe I can put together a shipment for you. You know, to make up for the way I've acted."

  "That won't be necessary. We already have a sizable load to pick up at our next stop."

  He set the case aside abruptly.

  "The count tallies. Just a moment and I'll transfer it into our safe and you can have your case back."

  "Keep it." Dobbs waved. "Consider it a present. How much have you taken in this run, anyway?"

  "Nearly a quarter of a million. A little less than average, but it's not bad."

  "Quarter of a million?" In cash?" Dobbs was visibly impressed. "That's a lot of money!"

  "I just wish it was mine." Eisner laughed. "Unfortunately, there are a lot of people waiting at the other end of the run to get their share. Our piece is ridiculously small considering the risks we take, but if we up our prices too much, the companies will buy their own ships and we'll be out of business."

  "I suppose. Well, I've got to get going now. Watch out for pirates, and if you're ever back this way, look me up. I'll buy you a drink."

  "I'll remember that." Eisner smiled, rising to shake the man's hand. "But don't even mention pirates. It's bad luck."

  Dobbs laughed and departed, heading for the shuttlecraft standing by to take him back to the planet's surface.

  Eisner sank back into his chair. For long moments he stared thoughtfully at the wall, then he turned his attention to the attach‚ case on the desk, running his hands softly over the leather finish.

  His reverie was interrupted by a lanky youth who burst through the door like an exploding bomb.

  "How did it go?" he demanded excitedly. "Is everything all right?"

  Eisner smiled tolerantly. Nikki always seemed to be going in eight directions at once, even under normal circumstances.

  "It went fine, Nikki," he said reassuringly. "The nice man gave me an attach‚ case."

  "He what?" the boy blinked.

  "... and the extra fifteen thousand." Eisner concluded, opening the case dramatically.

  "You did it!" Nikki exclaimed. "God, you've got guts, Dwight. I never would have had the nerve to go for the extra. I was afraid he'd get suspicious."

  "The man was trying to
pull a fast one. He would have been more suspicious if we hadn't called him on it."

  "I know, but-"

  "Look, Nikki, it's just like I told you. If we just conduct ourselves as if the captain were still alive, no one will suspect a thing. This way, we've got the ship and a quarter of a million."

  "But didn't he say anything?"

  "As a matter of fact, he did." Eisner smiled. "He warned us to watch out for pirates."

  "He did?"

  Simultaneously, the two burst into laughter, whatever tension they had pent up finding release in the absurdity of the situation.

  "Did I miss something?"

  The interruption came from the middle-aged black woman who had started to enter the cabin, only to stop short at the laughter within.

  "No, not really, Roz." Eisner assured her. "Did Dobbs get off okay?"

  "No trouble at all." Rosalyn sank into a chair. "He seemed a lot politer on the way out than on the way in."

  "We had a talk. I explained a few facts of life to him, and he pulled in his horns a bit."

  "That's nice," Roz grimaced. "Since you're in an explaining mood, maybe you wouldn't mind explaining a few things to me-like what do we do next?"

  "We already know that," Nikki protested. "Now that we're pirates, we do whatever pirates do."

  "Technically, we're mutineers," Eisner corrected. "We aren't pirates until we actually attack another ship. But Roz is right; we still have several options open to us at this point."

  "We've been through those already," Nikki grumbled.

  "If you don't mind, Nikki," Roz interrupted, "I'd like to go over them again. I'm not too wild about the choice we've made so far."

  Eisner began hastily, before a fight could start. "First of all, we could continue business as normal. We could return to our home port, report that the captain died of natural causes in space, and run the freight business ourselves. Of course, that would mean we'd have to give the money we've collected to the proper people."

  Nikki snorted derisively, but Roz silenced him with a glare.

  "Second," Eisner continued, "we could sell the ship, divide the money among us, and either go our separate ways or set up another business. The main problem with that being that you need ownership papers to sell a ship, and as soon as we touched down planetside, someone's bound to get very curious about where we got our money."

  He paused, but the other two remained silent.

  "Finally, we can play the cards fate seems to have dealt us. We can turn pirate and become one more ship gone bad, preying on the helpless and defenseless."

  "You don't have to be so graphic on that last point," Rosalyn mumbled, half to herself.

  "Of course I have to, Roz." Eisner insisted. "That's what anyone else would say about us. That's what we'll say about ourselves sooner or later. We'd better learn to live with it now while we still have other options. Later it will be too late to change our minds."

  "You missed an option, my friend."

  They all turned to face the massive figure framed in the doorway.

  "You could all turn me in to the nearest authorities and pocket a hefty reward. They still pay pretty good for murderers."

  "Abuzar, that isn't even an option," Roz scolded. "We've told you a hundred times, Blutman was an animal. If you hadn't lost your temper and killed him, one of us would have. We aren't going to turn you in for that."

  "But I was the one who killed him," the big man insisted. "And now, because of me, the rest of you are going to become pirates. You can't make me believe that's what you really want to do, Roz."

  "I can live with it." Rosalyn winced, turning away. "It won't be the first time I've earned a living doing something I didn't like."

  "Not so fast!"

  Eisner had been leaning back, his brows knitted.

  "There's another option here, one we haven't considered before." His voice was tense with excitement. "It hadn't even occurred to me until Abuzar mentioned rewards."

  "What is it?" Roz asked.

  "None of us are too wild about becoming pirates.

  Well, what if instead of becoming pirates, we hunt pirates? Besides what we get for salvage rights, there are bound to be businessmen who'll pay us if we can make a dent in the number of shipments and ships lost to pirates."

  "Now you're talking!" Nikki exclaimed with the same enthusiasm with which he had accepted the idea of becoming a pirate.

  "Pirates shoot back," Abuzar pointed out bluntly.

  "But they're used to fighting freighters with little or no armament," Eisner countered. "If we're armed better than they are, with better sensors than normal so that we can see them before they know we're in the area, they're in trouble."

  "Maybe." Abuzar conceded reluctantly. "But equip-ment like that could cost a small fortune."

  "We've got a small fortune," Eisner shot back. "The first thing we'll have to do is find out what armaments and sensor equipment are available, and how much they cost."

  "That's assuming we agree to take that option," Roz interrupted. "I seem to recall a few other choices."

  There was an uncomfortable moment of silence. Then Dwight sighed.

  "You're right, Roz. I guess the time has come when we have to make our final decision about the future. Anything after this is a commitment, and we shouldn't move unless everyone's in agreement. Speaking for myself, I'm willing to try being either a pirate or a pirate hunter, with preference toward the latter."

  "I'm with you, Dwight." Nikki chimed in.

  "I've got no choice." Abuzar shrugged. "Eventually someone will learn what I've done, and I'll be a hunted man. It's easier to run in space than on a planet."

  "Well, Roz?" Eisner asked. "How about you? Are you with us, or do you want to shuttle down to planet-side? We'll buy out your share of the ship if you want."

  Roz chewed her lip thoughtfully for a few moments before she replied.

  "Tell you what," she said at last. "You can count me in with two conditions."

  "What conditions?" Eisner prompted.

  "First, that we unanimously agree here and now that Dwight runs the show. That he becomes our captain officially."

  "Why?" Abuzar asked suspiciously.

  "Come on, Abuzar. You know as well as I do that there has to be one man at the top. Eventually we're going to be in situations where one person has to give the orders and make the decisions. I figure we should decide who that's going to be now, instead of arguing it out in the middle of a crisis. Dwight's been running things since Blutman died and doing a pretty good job of it. Nikki's too reckless, and even you don't trust your temper. I couldn't do it, and wouldn't want to if I could. To my thinking, that makes Dwight number one. If we can't agree on something as basic as that, we should call it quits right now."

  "I don't think I'm all that reckless," Nikki grumbled. "But I've got no objections to Dwight running things."

  "Abuzar?"

  "If we need a captain, I guess Dwight's the logical choice."

  "Okay, that's that." Roz nodded. "How about you, Dwight?"

  "I guess I never thought about it. I'm like Abuzar. I didn't really think a chain of command was necessary for four people."

  "But will you serve as captain?" Roz pressed.

  "Before I agree, what was the other condition to your staying with us, Rosalyn?"

  "Oh, that." Roz grimaced. "It's nothing really. Your agreeing to be captain was the big one. My second point was that I think we should all take new names."

  "Oh, come on, Roz!" Abuzar exploded.

  "Hold on a minute, Abuzar," Eisner said. "Why do you think that's necessary, Roz?"

  "I don't know about you other space bums, but I've still got family out there. I'm not too wild about dragging their name into the crazy things I'm going to be doing, and I sure don't want some pirate tracking them down to get back at me. Besides, up until now we've all got pretty clean records. On the off chance that someday we want to quit what we're doing and go back to leading normal lives, it wouldn
't hurt to have a 'clean' name to go back to. Whether the rest of you want to go along with this or not, I'm going to use a different name for my new career. From now on, I want the rest of you to get used to calling me 'Whitey.' "

  "Whitey?" Eisner raised his eyebrows.

  "That's right." She grinned. "All my life I've wanted someone to call me that. I guess this is as good a time as any to get it going."

  "Whitey." Eisner repeated, shaking his head. "All right, what do you two think about the whole idea?"

  "Puck" Nikki said thoughtfully.

  "What was that again?" Eisner frowned.

  "I said Tuck,' " Nikki repeated. "That's what my dad always called me. It's the name of some cutesy-poo character in an old play. I always hated that name, but I like the idea of a feared pirate hunter called Tuck.' "

  "It fits you," Roz teased.

  "It's no worse than 'Whitey,' " Nikki said.

  "How about you, Abuzar?" Eisner asked.

  "The only man who ever beat me in a fight was a retard they called 'Egor.' He couldn't count on his fingers, but I've never seen anyone fight like that. Yes, you can call me 'Egor.' I'd like that."

  "How about you, Dwight?" Roz asked. "Are you going to get in on this?"

  "Um... Dwight," Nikki said. "If you do, could you pick a name that sounds fearsome and ominous? I mean, you are going to be our captain, and it would help if you had a name that scared people when they heard it."

  "... and 'Dwight' just doesn't do it." Roz agreed. "What do you say, Dwight?"

  "Actually, I'm not very good at names."

  "How about The Skull'?" Nikki suggested hopefully.

  "Be serious," Roz chided.

  "lam serious," Nikki insisted. "His name should-"

  "I think I've got one." Eisner smiled.

  He had been doodling on one of the ship's receipt books, and held it up for the others to see. He had circled the logos: Ulnar Blutman's Moving and Transport.

  "In honor of our departed captain who so generously left us his ship, I'll use the first letters of the old letterhead for my name."