"Now that's the kind of selfish answer I can relate to. For the first time, Blackjack, I'm starting to believe you."

Blackjack sighed. "Now that that's settled, where do we go from here? Do we have to actually fight with your ship here, or can we just surrender and save wear and tear on everybody?"

"I think we can dispense with that in this case. Instead, why don't you have your ship tag along with the Dreamer for awhile. I'll instruct the captain to fill you in on our procedures and fleet policies. Then we can talk again."

"Fine by me." Blackjack smiled. "Anything else, boss?"

"Yes, start organizing the personnel records for your crew. I'll want to go over them with you next time we talk."

"Why?" Blackjack asked suspiciously. "I thought selection and assignment of the crew was my responsibility."

"It is," Tambu soothed. "I just like to be familiar with the individuals serving under me."

'All right. It might take awhile, though. I was never big on record keeping."

"I'm particularly curious about two of your crew," Tambu commented, unable to resist the jibe. "One of them is a short-haired blonde in her late twenties; the other is a boy in his mid-teens, Spanish-looking. I think you know who I mean."

Blackjack was visibly unsettled by the request.

"You weren't kidding when you said you had your sources, were you?" he said wonderingly.

"No, I wasn't. Tambu out."

He waited until Blackjack's face was gone, then leaned into his console once more.

"Are you still there, Puck?" he asked.

"Didn't miss a word," Puck replied, his features materializing on the screen.

"Good," Tambu nodded. "Try to get invited on board Blackjack's ship-and take a few extra people with you. I want a report from you on their armament and personnel to check against Blackjack's data. Can do?"

"Affirmative, boss."

"Keep me posted, then. Tambu out."

For a few minutes, Tambu leaned back in his chair smiling to himself. He considered calling Whitey, but rejected the thought. The board was clear, and his eyes hurt from staring at the screen for so many hours.

On an impulse, he rose and moved to the door of his cabin, activating the small intercom set into the wall. Hearing no conversation in the adjoining cabin, he depressed the button by the volume knob.

For long moments he waited, knowing that Ramona might not notice the small light glowing on her console even if she were in her cabin.

"Yes, boss?" Her voice came through the intercom at last.

"Can you come in here for a moment? Nothing important. I just want to talk to a live person for a while."

"Sure. Coming through."

He reached down and unlocked his side of the door, and a moment later heard the click as she unlocked her side.

"Care for some wine?" he offered as she entered the cabin. "I opened a half-bottle a couple hours back and haven't gotten around to drinking more than a glass."

"Only if you'll join me," she smiled. "It's silly, but my mother always told me a lady never drinks alone."

"Why not?" he smiled gesturing at the blank call-board. "The fleet seems to be handling its own problems for a change."

He draped himself over a chair and waited while Ramona poured two glasses of wine. Passing one to him, she pulled up another seat and sank into it, curling her legs up under her.

"You seem to be in an exceptionally good mood tonight," she observed, cocking her head to one side. "Good news on the board?"

"Not really," he frowned. "Just no bad news. There was one funny incident, though."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, I just got done talking with Blackjack. You remember I told you about him? The pirate we ran into on Trepec? The one who was going to get even with us?"

"I remember," Ramona nodded, sipping her wine. "What did he want?"

"He wanted to join the fleet, but that's not what tickled me. The funny part was that he didn't recognize me-my voice, that is. I wonder how he'd react if he knew the Tambu he was dealing with in such humble tones was the same man who took his gun away from him in a bar on Trepec?"

"That's it? That was your laugh of the day?"

"Well, I suppose it doesn't sound like much," Tambu admitted, crestfallen. "You would have had to have been there."

"I just don't think it's all that surprising that he didn't recognize you. You've changed a lot, you know."

"How so?"

"I didn't mean that as a criticism. It's just that since you've been coordinating things for several ships instead of one, you've taken on different mannerisms. Your voice has a no-nonsense ring of command to it that wasn't there when we first met."

"I haven't been aware of any changes," he protested.

"You're too close to see it," she pointed out. "But you're taking to command like a duck takes to water. You may have started out playing a role, but now you're it. You're the boss, the chief, the old man. There's a distance between you and everyone else, and it shows in how you talk."

"You mean that now, as we're talking here, I'm putting on airs?" he challenged.

"Not so much now when we're in the same room," Ramona conceded. "But when you're talking to me over the viewscreen, I can feel it. And it isn't putting on airs-it's just a clear knowledge of who orders and who follows."

"You make me sound awfully dictatorial."

"It isn't overt," Ramona insisted. "But there's no doubt in anyone's mind that there's an iron hand in that velvet glove. Nobody ever forgets you've done what no one else even thought of trying-building a united fleet from a bunch of individual ships."

"I'll have to think about that," Tambu sighed thoughtfully. "I thought I was just doing what had to be done to keep the fleet together."

"Did you let Blackjack join?" Ramona asked.

"Tentatively. It may be a mistake. I can't help but wonder how he'll act once he's operating on his own."

"It's my bet he'll be a model captain," Ramona stated. "In case you haven't noticed, the newer the ship, the closer they toe the line. The stronger the fleet gets, the less any individual ship wants to cross you."

"I'd rather have respect and loyalty than fear," Tambu stated flatly.

"You're going to get all three," Ramona insisted. "You're becoming a power, and that tends to polarize people's reactions. Some will love and respect you; others will migrate toward hate and fear."

"That's a bit too much for me in one evening." Tambu rose and stretched. "I'm going to get some sleep while I can. I still maintain I'm just doing my job."

"I'm not so sure it's always going to be that simple," Ramona retorted, uncoiling and starting for the door. "Remember, even now, the only one defining your job is you!"

Erickson took advantage of the recess to inspect the room more closely. His confidence had grown until now he was more relaxed than at the beginning of the interview. Of particular interest to him was the collection of books which adorned the walls.

Much to his surprise, the titles were mostly of an economic or philosophical nature. For some reason, he had been expecting the main thrust of the literature to be military history. Like Tambu, the library was proving to be inconsistent with his preconceived notions.

He was about to take a volume down for closer inspection when Tambu's voice came over the console's speaker once more,

"I'm ready to continue now, Mr. Erickson. Please forgive the interruption."

"It's quite all right," the reporter waved, taking his seat once more. "I must confess, however, that it had somehow never occurred to me that the feared Tambu would occasionally have to go to the bathroom like anyone else."

"It's a common misconception surrounding public figures," Tambu said. "When the average person thinks of an actor, a politician, or an athlete, they always view them within the context of their specialty. The thought that they must occasionally perform some very ordinary tasks such as shining shoes or doing the laundry never enters into the picture."