"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.
INTERVIEW VI
"I assume the captains approved your plan?" Erickson asked.
"Unanimously. In hindsight, it wasn't surprising. It was either that or disband."
"So you began offering the services of your fleet to the planets on a retainer basis?" the reporter prompted.
"That is correct. And the key word there is 'offered.' When you stop to think about it, it was a good deal for the planets. We had built, armed, and organized the fleet at our own expense. All we were asking them to do was contribute toward maintaining it."
"Yet you encountered resistance to your offer," Erickson recalled. "Didn't that surprise you?"
"Yes and no. We knew from the onset that not everyone would want to contribute. There's an old medical saying which states 'An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.' The anticipated problem was convincing a healthy patient that he needed an ounce of prevention, however reasonably priced it might be."
"Perhaps they thought they were being asked to pay for a pound of prevention where an ounce would suffice."
"I would believe that if they had haggled about the price," Tambu said pointedly. "However, what we encountered was flat refusal. In essence, the planets wanted to reap the benefits of our work without paying a cent."
"They did pay reward money when you destroyed the pirate ships," the reporter reminded him gently.
"The actual fighting was only a fraction of our work," Tambu argued. "If a pirate chose to run or even avoid a planet completely rather than tangle with our ships, we got nothing even though we had effectively performed a service."
"But in that situation your ship hadn't actually done anything," Erickson countered.
"Are your planetside police paid by the arrest? Part of the value of a uniformed patrolman is as a deterrent. Their job is as much to prevent crimes as it is to solve them."