She turned to face the front of the room, and for a moment Tambu had the uncomfortable feeling she could see him through the screen.
“Don’t get me wrong, boss. I’m not complaining. I think you’re doing a terrific job of running the show. You’re fair, you’re careful, and you have a better feel for what’s going on in the fleet than any five or ten or twenty of us put together. Now, I don’t pretend I agree wholeheartedly with all your decisions, particularly when they’re shoved down my throat. In the long run, though, I’ve got to admit you’ve been right. If I didn’t feel that way, I wouldn’t still be with you-and neither would anyone else in this room. You’re the boss, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Tambu writhed before this display of loyalty. Without knowing it, A.C. had voiced a strong argument against his retirement. It stood as a grim warning of what he could expect when he made his announcement.
“I hate to interrupt, A.C.,” Ramona said, “but you’re supposed to be giving your views on the proposal on the floor.”
“You want my views?” A.C. snarled. “I’ll give you my views. I think a Council of Captains would be a waste of time. I think these meetings are a waste of time, and a Council would only compound it. I think we should quit wasting our time and let Tambu get on with his business of running the fleet.”
She sat down to a rising tide of protests. Clearly her speech was not popular with the other captains.
“I’d like to reply to that, if I might,” Tambu interjected his voice through the din.