"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 opinion, 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."