"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!"
INTERVIEW V
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."
"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?"