Ramona awoke alone in Tambu's bed. She groped for his warmth for a few moments, then sleepily burrowed back into her pillow, assuming that he was in the bathroom. Poised on the brink of unconsciousness, her mind registered a small noise on the far side of the cabin. She snuck a lazy peek through her lashes, then blinked her eyes fully open.
The cabin was bathed in a ghostly light, illuminated by the starfield on the console's viewscreen. Silhouetted by the light, Tambu sat naked at the console, staring at the screen.
Ramona frowned as her mind struggled to analyze what she was seeing. This was highly unusual. Occasionally their sleep would be interrupted by a late-night call from a distraught captain, but then Tambu would deal with them in abrupt, terse tones, and return immediately to bed. He slept and loved seldom enough that when he did, he clung to it with an almost savage intensity. He was constantly either engaged in activity or sleeping. Sitting up quietly at night was something new for him.
"What is it, love?" Ramona called, stretching sleepily.
The figure at the console made no move to respond or to acknowledge her question.
"Tambu? Hey!"
Concerned now, she crawled to the foot of the bed and rose, moving to his side.
"Tambu?" she asked again, touching his shoulder lightly.
He turned his head and focused on her as if seeing her for the first time. "Oh! Sorry, love. Did I wake you?"
"What is it?" she pressed, ignoring his question. "Is something wrong?"
"Not really," he shrugged. "I just made a decision, is all. A hard decision."
"A decision? What is it? You haven't said anything about a major decision in the works."
"Believe it or not, I don't tell you everything," he smiled weakly. "No. This is a personal decision, one I've been thinking about for some time now."
"If you're going to tell me, tell me. Otherwise, let's go back to bed."
"Didn't mean to be melodramatic," he apologized. "It's just that it's been a rough decision to make. I didn't want to-I'm doing it again."
He ran a hand through his hair, then raised his gaze to look her squarely in the eye.
"You see, I've decided to retire. I'm going to step down as head of the fleet."
Ramona stared at him, started to speak, then sank down in a chair shaking her head.
"I-I'm sorry, love," she managed at last. "You caught me off guard. This is kind of sudden."
"Not for me," Tambu proclaimed grimly. "It's been on my mind for a long time now."
"Then you're serious?" Ramona asked incredulously, still trying to deal with his statement in her own mind. "You're really going to retire?"
He nodded slowly.
"I've got to. I've been seesawing back and forth for years, but now I don't even think I've got a choice anymore."
There was something in the tone of his voice--something new. Her shock at his decision was swept aside by a wave of concern for his well-being.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she offered gently.
For several moments he didn't respond; then he turned back to her with a sigh..
"I suppose I should. A lot of people are going to be asking a lot of questions when I make my decision public. I might as well get some practice explaining in advance."
He lapsed into silence again, frowning and pursing his lips. Ramona waited patiently.
"You know, it's funny," he said at last with a nervous smile. "I've been thinking about this so long, I could go through the problem in my sleep, but now that I've got to verbalize it, I don't know where to start."
"I'm not going anywhere," Ramona soothed, drawing her legs up under her. "Take your time and start anywhere."
"Well," he sighed. "For openers, look at this."
He extended a hand at chest height, fingers spread loosely.
Ramona peered at it, but saw nothing unusual. She shot a cautious glance at him and found him frowning at his hand.
"That's funny," he mused to himself. "A while ago, it was shaking like a leaf. I couldn't stop it."
"I know," Ramona nodded.
"I've seen it before," she explained. "When you were sleeping. Sometimes you'd lie there shaking all over. I always thought it was fatigue from pushing yourself so hard. You know how sometimes I nag you about getting more sleep? Well, that's why. I get really worried about you."
"I get worried about me, too," Tambu acknowledged. "But it goes a lot deeper than fatigue. It's the main reason I'm quitting."
He paused again. Ramona waited.
"I'm tired, love," he said softly. "Not just physically, get-some-sleep tired, I mean tired all the way through. I'm tired of making decisions, tired of giving orders, tired of speaking out, tired of not speaking out... tired of being Tambu."
"I'd say you've got a problem," Ramona observed with mock judiciousness. "I mean, when Tambu gets tired of being Tambu, where does that leave the fleet?"
"I'll let you in on a deep, dark secret, Ramona," Tambu announced wearily. "Perhaps the most closely guarded secret in the fleet."
He looked over both shoulders with melodramatic suspicion, then leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
"You see, I'm not Tambu."
"Really?" Ramona gasped, mimicking his manner. "Well, while I am shocked and horrified, I must compliment you sir, on your excellent impersonation. You look, talk, walk, drink and make love just like him. I never would have guessed if you hadn't revealed yourself."
"I'm serious," he replied with no trace of levity. "I'm not Tambu."
Ramona studied him thoughtfully for a moment.
"Okay, I'll play your game. If you aren't Tambu, who are you?"
"I'm a space bum," he announced. "A space bum who had an idea to get himself and his friends out of a bad situation. Part of the idea-a very small part-was to take on an assumed name: Tambu. By itself, the new name created no problems. But them something happened. The space bum and his friends-and a few new friends-decided to build a mythical figure around the name Tambu. You remember, love. You were there at the time."
Ramona nodded dumbly.
"It was ridiculously easy to do," he continued. "We've been conditioned by literature, Tri-D adventures, and other entertainment forms to recognize a heroic figure. All we had to do was provide a few high points and hide any contradictory information, and people would complete the picture themselves. They would see Tambu as a powerful, omnipresent, charismatic leader they could trust and follow. He must be! Otherwise, why is everybody else following him?"
Ramona dropped her eyes and gnawed on her lip. She looked up again as Tambu laid a gentle hand on her arm.
"Don't feel bad, love," he chided. "You didn't force me into anything I didn't want to do. It was a con game, and one I went along with willingly. Why not? It was fun. It was kind of like having the lead in a play, and I played my role to the hilt."
He leaned back again, his expression becoming more serious.
"The trouble is, the play never ended," he said in a low voice. "We never had the curtain call, when the players came out onstage and said 'Hey, look! We're just actors. What you've seen is just make-believe made momentarily plausible by master illusionists.' Because we've never clarified our position, the audience has accepted the illusion as reality, and by that acceptance made it reality."
"Slow up a little, love," Ramona said, shaking her head. "You lost me on that last curve."
"Let me try it from a slightly different angle. Any actor or con artist-or even a salesman-will tell you that to be successful, you have to believe what you're doing. Well, to be Tambu, I had to project myself into that character. I kept asking myself, 'What would a powerful person do in this situation?' 'What would a charismatic leader say to that problem?' I did that for years, until Tambu became more familiar to me than my own character. I got so I could do Tambu without thinking, purely by reflex. Do you see what I'm saying? I became Tambu, but Tambu isn't me!"
"I see your point," Ramona acknowledged. "But couldn't you also say Tambu is just another phase of your own development? I mean, I don't think you've done anything as Tambu that you would have been morally against in your earlier life. In a lot of ways, he's simply a projection of yourself."
"I don't know anymore," Tambu sighed. "And that's why I feel I've got to get out. Lately I find myself saying and doing things as Tambu that go completely against my grain. If I keep going, I'm afraid I'll lose myself to him completely."
"What things went against the grain? Just to satisfy my curiosity."
"Little things, mostly. But things that bother me. Remember the last captains' meeting? When Egor told us about Whitey getting killed. Part of me-the original me-wanted to get sick when I heard that. I wanted to walk away from the screen and hide for a couple of days-cry, get drunk, anything to ease the pain I felt. I mean, in a lot of ways, Whitey was like the sister I never had. She was patient, critical, supportive-more than a friend to me in every way. When I found out she was dead, and how she died, it hit me hard. So what did I do? I gave her a one-line eulogy and then told everyone her death didn't matter. That wasn't me talking, that was Tambu. Our opinions and reactions differed, and his won."
"But you were trying to make a point," Ramona argued. "An important point about not fighting the Defense Alliance. Not only was the news of Whitey's death distracting, it could have undermined your arguments by raising emotions against the Alliance. You should take that into consideration."
"Should I?" Tambu smiled. "You know that original me I keep talking about? You know what he felt about the whole matter? He was with the captains! He wanted to go out there and smash the bastards in the Alliance and anyone else who dared to take up arms against us. That's what he wanted, but Tambu wouldn't allow it, just like he wouldn't let the captains go off half-cocked. That's the rest of my problem. I can't ease off on Tambu, let him develop into what I was originally. The fleet needs Tambu-a cold mind with an eye for the overview. If I let the original me-the one I'm fighting to save-take over the fleet, it would be disastrous. I've got to make the choice: either stay with the fleet as Tambu, or save myself and leave."
"Your concern for the fleet is touching," Ramona drawled sarcastically. "What happens to the fleet if you retire? You'll be leaving a lot of friends holding the bag."
"What friends?" Tambu challenged. "With the exception of you, I don't have any friends left in the fleet. Puck, Whitey, even Blackjack, whom I never really liked, all of them are gone. Everyone else knows me as an authoritative voice on a blank viewscreen."
"There's Egor," Ramona reminded him.
Tambu thought for a moment, then sighed.
"I suppose you're right," he admitted. "Egor and I are still friends, even though we haven't gotten along too well lately. I still cover for him, and he still tries to be captain for me. It must be friendship. There's no other reason for it."
"But everyone else can go hang-if you'll pardon the pun. You must be a different person. That doesn't sound like Tambu at all."
Tambu slumped back in his chair, his eyes downcast, but his hands balled into tight fists.
"You're wrong, Ramona," he said quietly. "I do care what happens to the fleet. That's my problem. If I didn't care, I could just take a shuttle down at the next planet, and never look back. I do care, though, so I've been racking my brain trying to think of a way to have my cake and eat it, too. I want to be able to save myself for myself, and at the same time ensure the fleet's continued survival."
"That's a pretty tall order," Ramona said. "I don't see any way you could do it."
"I've figured a way," Tambu said quietly. "If I hadn't, I wouldn't be retiring. The fleet means a lot to me. I wouldn't sell it down the river just to save myself."
"That sounds more like the Tambu I know," Ramona said eagerly. "What's the plan? I'm all ears."
"Well... not all ears," Tambu smiled, leaning forward to caress her lightly.
"Stop that!" She slapped his hand. "You'll get me all distracted, and I want to hear this master plan of yours."
"See what I mean about my job getting in the way of my personal life?" Tambu signed in mock dejection.
"Are you going to tell me the plan or not?"
"Well, I got the idea from an item on the agenda for the next captains' meeting," Tambu began.
"Swell! I haven't seen a copy of the agenda yet."
"I know. I haven't distributed them yet."
"Tell me the plan!"
Tambu yawned. "As I was saying before I was interrupted, there is an item on the agenda calling for the formation of a Captains Council. The general idea is to select a dozen or so captains, each of whom will meet with small groups of ships throughout the year. Then, at the yearly meeting, they will represent the ships in the policy arguments with me. It's an attempt to avoid mob scenes like last year's meeting when there were too many captains, all trying to talk at once on every subject."
"Will the other captains be allowed to attend, too?" Ramona asked.
"I don't know. Hopefully, there would be enough trust in the Council that it wouldn't be necessary for the other captains to sit in. It wouldn't surprise me, though, if they insisted on attending for the first few years until that trust was built."
"What has this got to do with your plan?" Ramona pressed.
"Isn't it obvious?" Tambu blinked. "That Council could take over as the governing body of the fleet after I'm gone."
"Do you think the fleet will go along with that?" Ramona asked. "I mean, everybody's used to having one person at the top. I'm not sure they'll like switching over to rule by committee."
"I think the fleet would be better off with a council calling the shots. If you put all the weight on one person, there's too much chance that he'll fold-or worse, abuse the power. If they really want one person at the controls, though, I suppose they could choose one or let the Council choose one."
"Anyone specific in mind?" Ramona asked.
"If I had to name my successor or make a recommendation," Tambu frowned, "I'd have to go with A.C. She's shrewd as well as intelligent, and gutsy enough for three people."
"She also has a temper that won't quit," Ramona observed dryly.
"Nobody will be ideal. I'm hoping that the added responsibility would calm her down."
"There is one person who's ideal," Ramona suggested.
"Who's that?"
"You," Ramona said bluntly. "Face it, love, you invented the job and defined its range and parameters. No matter who gets picked, nobody's going to be better at being Tambu than Tambu."
" But I've told you how I feel about that,'' he protested.
"Yes, you have," Ramona retorted. "Now let me tell you how the fleet will feel. The captains will feel betrayed, abandoned, and shat upon. They're in the fleet because they believe in you and you believe in what you're doing. How do you think they'll feel when you try to take that away from them? I say 'try,' because I'm not sure they'll let you step down."
"How will they stop me--kill me?" Tambu laughed sardonically. "That's what it would take, and either way, they won't have Tambu at the controls anymore. No, hopefully they'll realize that if I'm not working willingly, I'll be no good to them at all."
"That's if they're thinking logically, which they don't always do," Ramona retorted. "At the very least, a lot of people are going to try to talk you out of it."
"I know. One of the things I don't know yet is how and when I'm going to make the announcement-if at all. It'll blow things wide open if I do it at the captains' meeting. Ideally, I'd like to wait until the Council idea has been passed and the members chosen, then tell them in a private meeting. That would give me some time to work with them, train them, and help organize the new structure before I left. I'll just have to wait and see what the temperature of the water is like at the meeting before I make up my mind on that. Maybe it would be easier to just establish the structure and then disappear-you know, missing in action. They can't argue with me if they can't find me."
"Well, I can't see any way you can make a popular move," Ramona said. "If you let the captains in on your decision, they'll turn on you like a pack of animals."
"So what's new?" Tambu smiled. "I've gotten used to it over the last couple years. You know, Ramona, lately
I've taken to seeing the captains as opponents rather than allies. They're a force to be dealt with-and they scare me more than the Defense Alliance ever could. If the Alliance starts getting frisky, I've got the fleet to fight them with. If the captains get upset, though, it's just me and them. No one's going to intercede in my behalf."
Ramona was silent for a few moments.
At last she sighed, "If that's how you see things, it's probably just as well if you step down. One question, though. You've already made it clear you don't think I could step into your position and run the fleet. What do you think my chances would be of getting a spot on the Council?"
"You?" Tambu blinked. "But you... I'm sorry. I've been so busy talking about myself, I haven't said anything about my other plans. I was hoping you'd come with me when I left."
Ramona gnawed her lip for a moment.
"Thanks for the invitation," she said finally. "Listening to you talk, I wasn't sure I'd be welcome. Now, at least, I know I've got a choice."
"But will you come with me?"
"I-I don't know," Ramona admitted. "So much of what I love in you is tied into the fleet. I mean, I love Tambu-and what you've been telling me is you're not Tambu, that you're someone else. I don't know that other person. I'm not sure if I'd love you more or hate you."
"I had counted on your coming along," Tambu said softly.
"Would it change your decision if I said I wouldn't go with you?" Ramona asked.
Tambu looked at her for a long moment, then lowered his eyes and shook his head.
"Then I'll have to think about it," Ramona sighed. "Come back to bed now. I'll give you my answer before you leave the fleet."