“Not everything,” Tambu admitted, “but a fair number of things.”
“You can’t afford that-not with eight ships under you. If you can’t keep some distance between yourself and the minor hassles of running a ship, it’ll tear you apart in no time.”
“But if I don’t keep track of what’s going on-” Tambu began, then broke off.
A small red light had begun to blink insistently on his command console accompanied by a soft chime.
“I’ll have to sign off now, Whitey,” he explained hurriedly, “I’ve got a ‘blinker’ emergency coming in.”
“What’s up?”
“I don’t know. It’s from the Dreamer.”
“Puck’s ship?” Whitey exclaimed. “He hasn’t been in command for a month yet. What kind of trouble can he have gotten into that quick?”
“That’s what I’m about to find out,” Tambu announced grimly, reaching for the cutoff switch.
“Well, sometime when you get a few minutes, give me a call so we can talk about other things than business.” Whitey called desperately. “We never just talk anymore.”
“Right,” Tambu agreed absently, “I’ll do that. Tambu out.”
He was hitting buttons as he spoke, switching the communications relays to accept the Dreamer’s transmission. Whitey’s face faded, to be replaced immediately by Puck’s worried features.
“Tambu here,” he announced, forcing a calm tone into his voice. “What’s the problem, Puck?”
“I’m-I’m not sure it’s a problem,” Puck stammered in return.
“Well, then, why don’t you just tell me why you put in a priority call?” Tambu suggested patiently.
“We’ve got a pirate ship here. It came up out of nowhere and caught us with our sails out.”