Tambu

by Robert Asprin

  "Maybe twelve," Pepe answered.

  "Your reports say ten. And how many now?"

  "Fifteen," Pepe admitted.

  "So at least, in your case, your business has increased-not decreased-with the appearance of the Alliance," Tambu observed.

  Pepe flushed.

  "You told me to speak for the fleet, not my ship," he argued.

  "Quite right." Tambu smiled. "Continue."

  "What is truly bad," Pepe explained, his voice rising, "is the unhappiness in our crews. For many years now we tell them, 'Practice with your guns... be ready to fight.' Now, for the first time we have someone to fight, and we tell them, 'Run away... don't fight.' Our crews... don't know what to think anymore. They are con-fused. Are they fighters or runners, eh? We can't keep telling them to be both."

  Scattered applause and murmured approval swept the room as Pepe sat down. Tambu pursed his lips and frowned as he watched, then leaned towards the mike.

  "Thank you, Pepe. Before we go much further with the discussion, however, we should define our terms. What is this Defense Alliance we're all so concerned about? While most of you know some of the facts, allow me to take a few moments to summarize the information which has come to me, so that we're all on even footing."

  There were loud groans and the sound of people shifting in their chairs impatiently, but Tambu ignored them. Despite his awkward speaking form, Pepe had been a little too good at stating the fleet's complaints. Tambu wanted to slow the pace of the meeting before it got out of control.

  He began in his best lecturer's monotone; "The Defense Alliance is a collection of some forty ships fielded by the planets with the intent of forming an interstellar peacekeeping force. In this, they are not unlike our own force."

  There were mutters of disagreement.

  "There are numerous differences, however, which separate the two fleets," he added hastily. "The most obvious is the chain of command on board an individual ship. As you know, many of our ships joined the fleet with crews intact from their previous engagements. The captain and crew are used to working together, and any replacements are selected by the captain."

  The crowd was fidgeting, obviously bored by the oration.

  "In contrast," Tambu continued, "the Defense Alliance is composed of ships and crews donated by the various planets, and their captains are appointed by the Alliance's High Command-a group which functions independently of any specific planet."

  He paused to emphasize his next point.

  "This means that the captain and crew of an Alliance ship do not share a common origin, nor do they necessarily agree on methodologies, custom, or tactics. I personally feel this is a major flaw in their organizational logic."

  There were more interested faces listening now.

  "To emphasize this for a moment, consider how the ships are run. Within our fleet, each ship and ship's captain has autonomy as long as their actions do not go against established policies and guidelines. The High Council of the Defense Alliance, on the other hand, has laid down a strict set of rules as well as a code of conduct which every ship, captain, and crewmember must obey to the letter. Having seen copies of their rules, I can only say that if I tried to get this assembly to abide by them, there would be an armed revolt. The only way the High Council can realistically expect adherence to their rules is if they've crewed their ships with saints and angels."

  Laughter greeted this speech, and Tambu began to relax slightly.

  "For the rest of it, they are not dissimilar to us. They finance their fleet with taxes from member planets, taxes which do not vary greatly from the monies paid us by our subscribers. Also, in their effort to form an impartial force, the ships each severed commitments with their planets of origin. As a result, like our fleet, the Defense Alliance answers only to itself-not to any planet or system."

  Tambu reviewed his captains on the screen and found them to be calmer and more settled than when he had begun speaking.

  "Now that we all understand what we're talking about, let's continue the discussion. Cowboy? Do you have anything to add to what Pepe has already said?"

  Tambu had expected that Cowboy would be caught off-balance and would have to flounder while trying to remember Pepe's comments. Instead, the lank Captain surged immediately to his feet and launched into his comments.

  "What the Boss sez sums up what we all know," he declared. "We can whip the tar out of them Alliance ships, so what are we running fer? While we're all together for the meeting, Ah think we should take a little extra time and do us some hunting. Ah don't know what the bag limit is on angels an' saints, but Ah bet we could fill it in no time atall!"

  Tambu gritted his teeth and rubbed his forehead while the crowd cheered Cowboy. So much for slowing down the pace of the meeting.

  "If I understand your logic, Cowboy," he commented dryly after the noise had died down, "you feel that since we can attack and destroy the Alliance fleet, it automatically follows that we should. Is that correct?"

  "Well... yeah," Cowboy stammered. "Ah guess that's what Ah'm sayin'."

  "I see." Tambu smiled. "Then why stop with the Defense Alliance? The fleet's strong enough to totally destroy any planet or system in the universe. After we're done with the Alliance fleet, why not start attacking the planets one by one? We can do it, so why shouldn't we?"

  "Yer pokin' fun at me," Cowbody declared, drawing himself proudly erect. "We're supposed to be protectin' the planets, not attackin' them. That's our job."

  "Forgive me," Tambu apologized sarcastically. "My mind must be slipping. I wrote the contract we use with the planets, but obviously I've forgotten an important part of that agreement. Could you refresh my memory? Just what part of that agreement says that chasing and destroying the Defense Alliance is part of our job?"

  Cowboy dropped his eyes uncomfortably.

  "We're-we're supposed to fight against pirates," he murmured lamely.

  "Are you saying the Alliance is actually a band of pirates?" Tambu pressed mercilessly. "No one's reported this to me before. That changes everything. Tell me, though, which merchant ships have they attacked? I'll need that information for my records."

  Cowboy shook his head silently, not looking up.

  "I see," Tambu said at last. "Thank you for your comments, Cowboy. Ratso? Do you have anything to add to the discussion?"

  He was careful to use Ramona's fleet name, but her response caught him totally unaware.

  "I yield the floor to Captain Egor," she announced without rising.

  A murmur of surprise ran through the assemblage. Egor had never spoken before at a captains' meeting.

  "Very well," Tambu managed, recovering himself. "Egor?"

  The big man rose slowly to his feet and surveyed the room carefully before he spoke. Tambu tried to read the expression on his old friend's face, but found he could not. The only thing he could say for certain was that Egor looked older.

  "I'm not as good a talker as most of you," Egor began hesitantly, "but there's something I've got to tell you about. Something that affects all of us in this room."

  He paused for a moment, frowning as if trying to choose his next words.

  "Most of you know Whitey," he said at last. "She was captain of the Raven before Pepe. She's an old friend of mine, and I kept in touch with her after she left the fleet and settled on Elei. I've found out... well, she's dead."

  There was a moment of stunned silence. Then everyone tried to talk at once. Pepe was on his feet, his face pale and drawn, trying to say something to Egor, but his words were lost in the clamor.

  Despite his own shock at hearing the news, Tambu's mind was churning with suspicion. Why hadn't Egor informed him of this sooner? More important, why had he chosen now to make his announcement?

  Egor was holding his hands up now, motioning for quiet. Slowly, the other conversations subsided as the captains turned to listen.

  "What is particularly important," he continued, "is not the fact that Whitey's dead, but rather how
she died. The Defense Alliance killed her. One of the Alliance ships visited Elei, and someone told its crew that Whitey used to be with our fleet. They went to her home, dragged her out in the street, and hung her. There was no formal arrest by the Elei authorities, no trial, nothing! Just a lynch mob--a Defense Alliance lynch mob!"

  Tambu frowned at the ugly sounds coming from the assembled captains, but Egor wasn't finished yet.

  "How do I know?" he called in answer to one of the many questions shouted from the group. "I'll tell you how I know. The Scorpion was there! We were there at Elei!"

  His words stilled the rising babble like a bucket of water tossed on a fire. All eyes were on him as he turned to stare at the viewscreen.

  "The Scorpion was orbiting Elei when the Alliance ship arrived," he announced coldly. "Under orders, we withdrew rather than put up a fight. When we returned later, we found out about Whitey."

  Tambu bowed his head as the icy rage in Egor's words washed over him. It was obvious that Egor blamed Tambu personally for Whitey's death.

  Egor continued, "Unfortunately, my crew heard about it first when they went planetside. I had to exert every bit of discipline and authority at my command to keep them from retaliating against Elei for what the Alliance had done. What's more, I've blocked them from meeting or communicating with the crews from any other ship. It wasn't a popular thing to do, but I felt it was necessary to keep the story from spreading through the fleet before we could discuss it here at the meeting.''

  Egor faced the other captains, inadvertently turning his back on the viewscreen.

  "Well, we're at the meeting now," he growled, "and the question I want to put before the assembled captains is: what are we going to do about it? How long are we going to let the Defense Alliance push us around before we push back?"

  A chorus of angry shouts answered his challenge. Tambu gritted his teeth. Egor was showing an unsuspected talent as a rabble rouser. The captains were teetering on the brink of an emotional commitment the fleet could ill afford. Tambu would have to move now if he was to maintain control of the meeting.

  "Order!" he barked. "Order, or I'll adjourn the meeting right now! Order!"

  Grudgingly, the captains complied. One by one, they returned to their seats, but their faces were tense and expectant as they stared at the viewscreen. Tambu knew they were barely holding their emotions in check. He considered his words carefully.

  "Egor," he said after the noise had subsided, "I can only say that I share your grief-as I'm sure all the captains do. Whitey was liked and respected by all who knew her, as a captain and a friend." He paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

  "However," he added in a harsher tone, "I must also say as the chairman of this meeting that what you say has no bearing at all on the subject under discussion."

  Heads snapped up, but he pressed on.

  "Whitey was no longer with our fleet, and therefore outside our sphere of protection. I personally offered to establish her in a location where her past would be unknown, but she refused. She chose instead to live among people who knew her as a fleet captain. She knew the risk, but make her decision anyway. The fact that she lost her personal gamble should have no bearing on the policies or decision of the fleet."

  The room was staring at him out of the viewscreen, but no one seemed to be in violent disagreement.

  "As such," Tambu concluded, "if you're finished-"

  "I'm not finished!" Egor cried.

  "Very well," Tambu sighed. "Continue."

  "Since you only want to talk about the fleet," Egor glared, "we will forget about Whitey. Fine. Let's talk about the Scorpion and ships like her who are supposed to follow your orders. We were driven away from Elei by an Alliance ship without firing so much as one shot--following your orders. Speaking for myself, my crew, and the rest of the fleet, I want to know why. I can accept not chasing Alliance ships, but why do we have to run?"

  Tambu asked, "When you left Elei, were there other planets unpatrolled by ships of either fleet?"

  "Of course," Egor nodded. "With so many planets and so few ships, there are always unpatrolled planets."

  "Then I'll ask you a question of my own. You ask, 'Why run?' I ask you, 'Why fight?' To protect the planet? The Alliance won't attack them. To protect yourself? They never fired a shot at you. To keep the revenues of the planet? Why bother when there are so many other planets that can replace it?"

  Tambu leaned back and sighed.

  "What it boils down to, Egor, is that you want to fight because of your pride. You don't want to back down to anyone, anywhere, anytime. That's pride. Now I ask you: do you think it's right to risk not just your life, but your ship and the lives of your crew in a fight that could have been avoided? How much is your pride worth to you?"

  Egor flushed and sat down, still angry, but unable to reply.

  "Thank you, captain. Now, if we could hear from-"

  "I smell a rat!"

  There was no mistaking the diminutive figure standing on a chair in the middle of the assemblage.

  "I never thought I'd see you climb on a chair to avoid a rat," Tambu observed attempting a joke. "Sit down, A.C."

  "I have something to ask," she called back defiantly.

  "I said I would not tolerate any outbursts or interruptions, and I meant it! Now sit down!"

  A.C. hesitated, then dropped back into her seat.

  "Thank you. Now then, Jelly? Would you like to say something at this time?"

  The old man half-rose.

  "I'd rather yield the floor to Ms. A.C.," he announced.

  A titter ran through the group, and Tambu knew he was outmaneuvered.

  "Very well," he said politely, trying to salvage his dignity. "A.C.? I believe you had some comments?"

  "I have an observation and a question. The observation is that we're being flimflammed! Flimflammed, bamboozled, and hustled! What's more, the one doing the hustling is none other than our own beloved chairman!"

  She leveled an accusing finger at the viewscreen, and the assemblage turned to stare.

  "No offense, boss," she called. "But I've sat through a lot of these meetings, and I know your style. If this is a free discussion, then I'm Mickey Mouse. You're playing divide-and-conquer games with the meeting, and it's about time you admitted it. By controlling who speaks and in what order, you're choosing what arguments you want to hear and when. Then, after forbidding anyone else to interrupt, you use your position as chair to interrupt as often as you want with questions or observations. You're taking our arguments one at a time and carving them up. That's not your normal style, but that's what you're doing."

  She paused for breath.

  "Go on," Tambu encouraged, amused despite himself at the accuracy of her statements.

  "Well, I've been sitting here trying to figure out why you're doing this, and I can come up with only one answer: Your mind's already made up on the subject of the Defense Alliance. What's more, you don't think that your decision is going to be particularly popular with the captains, so instead of just coming out and speaking your mind, you've set up this cat-and-mouse game. It's my guess you're hoping you can talk us around to where we come up with your idea and think we did it ourselves."

  She paused, licked her lips, and continued, her shoulders drooping slightly.

  "I don't know. I may be entirely wrong about this, but it's the only thing that fits what's going on. If I'm wrong, I apologize."

  Her head came up and her eyes bored out of the viewscreen at him.

  "But if I'm right, I think I can speak for all of us when I say could you knock off the bullshit and tell us what you're thinking? You can save everyone a lot of time and emotional stress by just being honest with us. We might not like it, but it beats being treated like children."

  She dropped back into her seat, and Tambu winced as the room stared at the viewscreen, waiting for his answer.

  "Thank you, A.C.," he said slowly. "And I really mean that. All I can say is that you're absolut
ely right."

  The captains shifted uneasily and muttered to each other as he continued.

  "There are two points of clarification before I share my thoughts with you. First, though I was manipulating the discussion, I was not being close-minded. If a point had been raised from the floor that had escaped my earlier studies on the situation, I would have given it my full consideration. Second, knowing my decision would be unpopular and therefore require considerable explanation, I was trying to bundle that explanation in a choreographed discussion rather than simply lecturing and dictating. Now, I can only apologize to the captains. Whatever my intentions, my methods in dealing with you were less than honest, and therefore in clear violation of my own principles and the spirit of these meetings. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

  He paused for a moment. There was dead silence in the room as the captains waited.

  "As to my position on the Defense Alliance, I have given the matter considerable thought and attention. Like all questions, it involves both logic and emotion, and unfortunately my final solution is also logical and emotional.

  "As to the logic, I have tried to strip the problem down to the bare essentials. We have always considered ourselves a peacekeeping force. While we will fight to defend our ships or our crews, a peaceful person outside our fleet has nothing to fear from us. The charges and criticisms of us we have attributed to misinterpretation, misinformation, or outright lies.

  "The Defense Alliance is also a peacekeeping force. While we seem to be their primary targets, I am sure they would not hesitate to attack a pirate if they chanced upon one. In short, they are in the same business we are-except they aren't as good at it as we are. I'm not talking about fighting here, even though I believe we could beat them man-for-man and ship-for-ship. I'm talking about the day-to-day drudgery once the romanticism wears off. They're all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, planning to beat us at a game we've been playing for ten years. I don't think they can do it."

  He paused for emphasis, scanning the rapt faces in the viewscreen.

  "I'm basing my orders-my entire strategy-on that belief. They can't do it. They're going to run into every problem, every financial hassle, every planetside hassle that we did, and I don't think they'll be able to take it! I