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."
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."
"You want my views?" A.C. snarled. "I'll give you my views. I think a Council of Captains would be a waste of time. I think these meetings are a waste of time, and a Council would only compound it. I think we should quit wasting our time and let Tambu get on with his business of running the fleet."
She sat down to a rising tide of protests. Clearly her speech was not popular with the other captains.
"I'd like to reply to that, if I might," Tambu interjected his voice through the din.
"I'm sorry, boss," Ramona apologized, "there are a couple of speakers ahead of you. Remember, it was your rule!"
A ripple of laughter greeted this, mixed with a few catcalls. But Tambu was not upset. Things were still going according to plan. Ramona had agreed that he should try to interrupt after the first speaker, only to be blocked by the discussion leader. It provided a bit of comic relief, while at the same time setting a precedent for later discussions. Top man or not, Tambu was not to be allowed to interrupt at will. More important, the discussion leader could stop him without fear of repercussions.
"Jelly?" Ramona was saying. "Would you care to speak next?"
Tambu frowned slightly as the old man rose to his feet. He wouldn't have chosen Jelly to speak next. The aging captain was still sharp enough mentally, not to mention highly respected, but he tended to be deathly slow when speaking. The pace of the meeting was bound to suffer with Jelly's speaking so early. Still, he was Ramona's choice, and Tambu was going to have to get used to things being handled differently during these discussions.
"I must take exception to Captain A.C.'s comments," Jelly was saying. "These meetings serve several functions, one of which is to force the captains to hear each other. When we do, we find that our views and opinions are shared by many others, and it becomes unnecessary for each of us to speak. This avoids repetition, and saves Tambu the trouble of hearing the same suggestion or complaint forty or fifty times."
He paused to clear his throat, coughing slightly.
"Excuse me. As to the Captains' Council," he continued, "this is also something which could potentially save us considerable time. If for example, a problem-"
He broke off suddenly, coughing hard and clutching at his chair for support.
Tambu bolted upright, staring at the screen as the room dissolved into chaos. He reached for his mike--but before he could speak, the viewscreen went blank.
He froze, blinking at the screen in disbelief. This was impossible! Communications equipment simply didn't break down. In the years of the fleet's existence, there had never been a failure of communications gear-on any ship.
Moving quickly, Tambu punched out a familiar combination of buttons and a view of immediate space filled with the ships of the fleet sprang to life on the screen. That gave him some assurance. At least the problem wasn't with his gear. Something must be malfunctioning with the equipment on the Scorpion. Strange that it should happen just as there was a disruption in the meeting... or was it a coincidence?
Tambu frowned, trying to reconstruct the scene in his mind. Had Jelly been the only one coughing? He had a flashing impression of people moving away from Jelly during the commotion-not towards him, as would be the normal reflex.
Shaking the thought from his mind, Tambu made a few adjustments to his controls and tried the Scorpion again.
"Calling the Scorpion.! This is Tambu. Come in, Scorpion."
To his relief, the response was almost immediate. The display, however, was not of the captains' meeting. Instead, there was a bearded man on the screen with a tangle of dark, unkempt, shoulder-length hair. Tambu noted several features in the cabin behind the man, and realized he was in Egor's private quarters.
"Scorpion here, sir," the man announced. "We've been expecting your call."
Tambu did not recognize the man immediately and there was something in his tone which hinted of disrespect. But the situation was too pressing to prolong the conversation.
"If you're expecting my call," he snapped, "then you probably know what's going wrong. Assign someone to repair the viewscreen in the meeting room immediately. Tell Captain Egor to declare a recess until the screen is functioning. Then have him report to me."
"There's nothing wrong with the viewscreen in the meeting room," the man informed him tensely. "We deliberately overrode the transmission."
A flash of anger shot through Tambu.
"We?" he barked. "Who is 'we,' and by what authority do you-"
"We are the crew of the Scorpion," the man interrupted. "And it is my pleasure to inform you that we've just taken control of the ship."