"She is registered at the hospital under her real name, isn't she?" Tambu frowned.
"Yes, she is!" Whitey exclaimed. "And her medical records have been transferred from her home planet. That's what I meant in my original report when I said we were following recommended procedures. Your recommended procedures."
"I'm doing it again, aren't I?" Tambu said.
"Yes, you are.'' Whitey was still annoyed. "Do you get this wound up over everything that happens in the fleet?"
"Not everything," Tambu admitted, "but a fair number of things."
"You can't afford that-not with eight ships under you. If you can't keep some distance between yourself and the minor hassles of running a ship, it'll tear you apart in no time."
"But if I don't keep track of what's going on-" Tambu began, then broke off.
A small red light had begun to blink insistently on his command console accompanied by a soft chime.
"I'll have to sign off now, Whitey," he explained hurriedly, "I've got a 'blinker' emergency coming in."
"What's up?"
"I don't know. It's from the Dreamer."
"Puck's ship?" Whitey exclaimed. "He hasn't been in command for a month yet. What kind of trouble can he have gotten into that quick?"
"That's what I'm about to find out," Tambu announced grimly, reaching for the cutoff switch.
"Well, sometime when you get a few minutes, give me a call so we can talk about other things than business." Whitey called desperately. "We never just talk anymore."
"Right," Tambu agreed absently, "I'll do that. Tambu out."
He was hitting buttons as he spoke, switching the communications relays to accept the Dreamer's transmission. Whitey's face faded, to be replaced immediately by Puck's worried features.
"Tambu here," he announced, forcing a calm tone into his voice. "What's the problem, Puck?"
"I'm-I'm not sure it's a problem," Puck stammered in return.
"Well, then, why don't you just tell me why you put in a priority call?" Tambu suggested patiently.
"We've got a pirate ship here. It came up out of nowhere and caught us with our sails out."
"How big a ship?"
"About twice our size. And armed to the teeth. If it opened fire, we wouldn't have a chance."
"Then I'd say you have a problem," Tambu announced grimly. "I take it from your comments that so far it hasn't fired on you?"
"That's right. It's just sitting out there watching us. We've got its captain on the horn, and he says he wants to talk to you." "To me? About what?"
"He won't say, but he says if you aren't on board our ship, we should relay his transmission to you." "All right, patch him through." "Will do," Puck acknowledged. "Should we try to get our sails in while you're talking?"
"Negative. If he wants to talk, let's hear what he has to say before you try anything. Monitor the conversation, though, and keep your weapons manned. If you hear me say my name-the one I was using when we first met-open fire and try to knock him out before he returns fire."
"Got it," Puck nodded vigorously. "Oh, Tambu, one more thing you should know. The captain says his name is Blackjack. I think he's the same one you met back on Trepec."
"I see. Very well, patch him through." There was a few moments' pause. Then Puck's face faded and was replaced by the impatient countenance of Blackjack. Tambu watched in silence for several moments as the man fidgeted. "You wanted to speak with me?" he said at last. Blackjack started, then squinted at the screen as his hands went to the control dials.
"Excuse me," he apologized hastily. "There must be an equipment malfunction. I'm not receiving a picture. If I had known you were standing by-"
"It is not an equipment malfunction," Tambu interrupted. "For security reasons, my picture is never transmitted."
"Oh," Blackjack blinked. "Of course. A very sound policy."
Tambu smiled in wry amusement. As incredible as it seemed, Blackjack hadn't recognized his voice. The difference between the swaggering bully he had met on Trepe and the servile figure on the screen was ludicrous.
"You said you wanted to speak with me?" he asked levelly. "My time is limited."
Blackjack licked his lips nervously. "Well, sir, we've heard that you're forming a peacekeeping force and were accepting members who were... that is, regardless of their past records."
"That is correct. And in answer to your unasked question, some of our crews have been pirates in the past."
Blackjack smiled. "Good, because we'd like to join up. I mean, we'd like to become a part of your force, if that's possible."
Tambu raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was a turn of events he hadn't anticipated.
"I know this is irregular," Blackjack continued hastily, misinterpreting the silence. "But if you could just supply us with a few details as to what you're expecting-"
"Why?" Tambu interrupted.
Anger flashed momentarily in Blackjack's eyes, and his posture stiffened. Then he regained his smile.
"I know it's an annoyance, but it's been hard getting a line on your operations. We figured maybe if we went right to the source-"
"I meant why do you want to join. I was under the impression you had a lucrative business of your own going."
"You've heard of me?" Blackjack seemed both surprised and flattered.
"We have our sources," Tambu countered, smiling to himself. "It was my belief that you were a diehard loner. I fully expected that if our courses crossed, that you'd be taken dead or not at all. As such, I'm quite curious about your sudden change of heart."
"Well, the business has never been all that stable, and it's been getting rougher lately. You should know that You're one of the reasons things have been going bad."
"We have had some modest success."
"It was shaky enough when things were one-on-one and every ship for itself. But now that we're up against ships working together in teams or packs-well, let's say the odds are getting pretty high against us."
"Have you thought of quitting?" Tambu suggested.
"We talked it over, the crew and me, but none of us were wild about finding work planetside, and cargo hauling seems awfully dull after the life we've been living."
"Besides, it doesn't pay as well," Tambu observed dryly.
"Exactly. Well, anyway, we decided to go with the old saying...you know, 'if you can't lick 'em, join 'em. 'So here we are. What do you say?"
"It still sounds like a rather abrupt change of face to me. I'm surprised your crew isn't more averse to changing sides this way."
Blackjack shrugged. "Cops or robbers, the game's the same on both sides of the fence. The big difference is that playing it your way, we can mix with polite company."
"Well, we haven't exactly been swamped with invitations to society balls," Tambu countered. "And I'd like to think there are a few differences between the cops and the robbers. The main one that comes to mind is discipline. If you join the fleet, you play by my rules. You'll be allowed to run your ship your way, but the final decisions are mine. No solo jaunts or independent action."
"I know that. That's the price we pay for joining a group. Between you and me, though, in a lot of ways, it's a plus, not a minus. I don't mind at all passing the buck on some of the rougher decisions."
"Exactly what are you expecting to get out of this?"
"You don't buy the 'noble cause' bit, eh?" Blackjack grimaced.
"Let's say I have limited faith in it. I think the best business relationships exist when both sides benefit from the arrangement. If you join, I get another ship complete with a trained crew. Now what are you seeing that you'll get out of this?"
"Support. Both military and financial. Not only do we have allies we can call on if we get our ass in a sling, by sharing profits and losses, we stabilize our cash flow."