"That's true," Erickson admitted. "I guess it's just a matter of ego-defense."

"Ego-defense? I don't believe I understand your point."

"Well, when an ordinary Joe looks at a celebrity, there's always one question in the back of his mind: 'What has he got that I don't?' If he lets himself view the celebrity as just another person, it means he must see himself as inferior. Since most people strive to see themselves as above average, they reject the thought that an ordinary person can achieve that much more success given the same materials to work with. As a result, rather than accept an inferior self-image, they are more comfortable projecting the celebrity into superhuman status. The view then is: Tm above average, but they're special! I don't have to compare myself with them because they're another species completely.' As I said, it's self-defense-or rather ego-defense."

"An interesting concept," Tambu commented after a moment's pause. "While I've observed the phenomenon, that is one interpretation I had never considered. Perhaps we can discuss it further later, if I have any extra time left at the end of our interview."

"I somehow doubt that." Erickson smiled. "Just what we've covered so far has raised so many questions in my mind that I'm sure the interview will last as long as time allows."

"In that case, we should probably proceed," Tambu said. "What questions do you have so far?"

"One question I've been asking in various ways since the beginning of the interview still sticks in my mind.

You've answered it indirectly with your narrative,.but I'd still like a simple 'yes or no' response. When you began organizing your force, did you think you were doing the right thing? Did you see your force as the good guys?"

"The simple answer is 'yes'!" Tambu replied. "The actual answer is far more complex. I was hoping you could see that by now."

"The complexity escapes me. It seems a very straightforward question."

"It becomes complex when I add that what we were doing was right in my own mind, not just at the beginning, but to this very day. However, I am aware that I do not have an exclusive patent on truth. What's right in my mind is not necessarily right in the minds of others. From there it's a matter of who you believe or which philosophy you embrace."

"But facts are facts," the reporter argued impatiently.

"Very well," Tambu sighed. "The facts are that we were successful. We waged war against the pirates infesting the trade and made enough of a dent in their numbers that their activity all but ceased. That is a fact which can be confirmed through your own newspaper's files. By examining our record you can see we were a law-enforcing group."

"Enforcing whose law?" Erickson jibed. "Yours?"

"You're defeating your own arguments, Mr. Erickson. You're attempting to interpret the facts. The factual response to your question, however, is that yes, we were enforcing my laws. There were no interstellar laws until I formulated them with my fleet. To judge beyond that requires interpretation. Was I bringing law and order to the previously lawless starlanes? Or was I an opportunistic bandit taking advantage of that lawless state?"

"I'm beginning to see your point," the reporter admitted hesitantly. "But what happened next? What happened once you gained the upper hand over the pirates?"

"Then," Tambu reminisced, "we began to encounter the same problem which has confronted peacetime armies since the dawn of time."

"There's no sign of them at the other two inhabited planets in this system either. We've checked with instruments and confirmed with firsthand investigation. They aren't here."

Tambu slouched in his chair studying the angry face of the Candy Cane's captain on the viewscreen before him. He was as concerned over the mental state of the captain as he was about the unfortunate turn of events being reported.

"Have you checked planetside?"

"On all three planets," the captain confirmed. "There hasn't been a ship in this system in weeks. With your permission, I'd like to find the lying bastard who sold us this information and get our money back-with interest!"

Tambu grimaced at the suggestion, confident the captain could not see his expression. He had several unconfirmed reports on the captain of the Candy Cane, all regarding unnecessary brutality. The last thing he wanted to do was to give the man carte blanche to lean on one of their informants.

"Have you checked the uninhabited planets?" he asked, stalling for time.

The expression of anger on the captain's face gave way to one of uneasiness.

"We've run an instrument check, but not a firsthand confirmation," he admitted. "I figured if the Chameleon was putting in for R and R and supplies they'd be at one of the inhabited planets. I mean, there's no point in giving your crew shore leave on a hunk of barren rock. Shall I go ahead and check out the other planets?"

Tambu had reached his decision as the captain spoke.

"No, that won't be necessary. I want you to hold firm at that system for a while, though. Wait at least a week and see if our target pops up. He might just be running late."

The captain grimaced, then remembered that Tambu could still see him and rearranged his features into a forced smile.

"Hold position for a week," he repeated. "Affirmative."

"For the record," Tambu said casually, "What are you figuring as your modus operandi for that week?"

It was an unfair question. The captain had just gotten his orders, and it was obvious he couldn't have a set plan of action in mind yet. Still, Tambu expected his captains to be able to be able to think on their feet. Besides, he hadn't liked the way the captain reacted when receiving his orders.

"Urn..." the captain began, licking his lips nervously, "we'll leave a crewman at each spaceport on the three inhabited planets, then take up position close enough to the furthest uninhabited planet that it will screen our position. If the target ship shows up, our watchers can contact us by closed communicator and we'll move in."

Tambu let the captain suffer in silence for a full minute before he answered.

"That plan seems adequate. How do you intend to select which crewmen are to serve as watchers?"

"On the merit system," the captain replied promptly, his confidence apparently bolstered by the acceptance of his plan. "An all-expense-paid week planetside is a pretty nice plum. I figure it should go to my pest performers."

"That also means your best performers will be off-ship when you take on the target vessel," Tambu commented pointedly.

The captain's face fell at the admonishment, but Tambu continued.

"It's good to hear that. I wish more of my captains had that kind of faith in their crews instead of letting a few key crewmembers handle all the dirty work."

"I-Thank you, sir," the captain gulped.

"One suggestion, though," Tambu drawled, smiling at the captain's discomfort. "You might choose one of the watchers by random draw, then rig it so one of your newer crewmembers wins. Send someone with a bit of experience along to be sure he stays out of trouble, but make it clear it's the new man's assignment. Also, I think you should put all the watchers on a budget just to make sure they don't get carried away with their spending. They're there to do a job, not to go on a binge."

"Yes, sir."

"And announce to the crew that if you nail the target, there will be a week's shore leave at a planet of your choice."

"Yes, sir. Thank you." The captain was smiling now.

"Tambu out."

Tambu didn't smile as he clicked off the viewscreen. He took no pleasure or pride in dealing with situations such as this. They were all too commonplace now, more the rule than the exception.