CHAPTER EIGHT

"Coffee, love?" Ramona asked, poking her head into Tambu's cabin.

"Thanks, I could use a break."

"We finally found our problem." Ramona gave him a steaming cup and curled up in a nearby chair. "It took three rounds of check-inspections, but we found it."

"Where was it?" Tambu asked curiously.

"There was a flaw in one of the circuit boards in the Emergency Life Support Override System. It took only three minutes to replace-once we found it. Could have been nasty if we hadn't caught it, though."

Tambu frowned.

"Isn't that a sealed system? When was it last inspected?"

"Two years ago," Ramona recited. "During its scheduled preventative maintenance cycle."

"Then the problem's been with us that long?" Tambu winced.

"No," Ramona insisted firmly. "It's a recent development."

"You seem awfully sure of that."

"I am, for two reasons. First, it was triple-checked during that inspection. I know the crewmembers whose initials were on the seal. They aren't the kind who would fake an inspection or miss a defect that obvious."

"And the other reason?"

"The other reason is the tapping started only recently."

"I thought so." Tambu smiled. "You know, sometimes I wonder if superstitions would survive if we didn't force feed them."

"Now, look," Ramona flared, "I'm not saying I believe in all the superstitions that we keep in space, but the tapping on the outer hull of a ship as a warning of impending disaster is fairly well documented."

"By searching until something wrong is found?" Tambu teased. "In any network of circuits and machinery as complex as a ship, at any given point in time, a close inspection would reveal something wrong. Are you trying to say you honestly believe that if we had inspected that system, say, a week ago, that we wouldn't have found the flaw?"

Ramona glared. "All I know is that on five separate occasions I've been on board a ship when the tapping was heard. Each time a pending malfunction was found. That's enough to convince me to stop everything and run a check-inspection if we hear it again. Wouldn't you?"

"Sure I would," Tambu acknowledged. "But even though I keep the superstitions right along with everybody else, there's part of my mind that reminds me that what I'm doing is silly. You'd think man would have outgrown such childishness, but instead we find technology and superstition advancing hand in hand down the starlanes. I just find it a bit ironic is all."

"Well, I don't think we'll ever get away from it," Ramona grumbled, still annoyed at his teasing. "Let's face it. Our crewmembers aren't the brightest representatives mankind can muster. A lot of them don't have much education other than what they've picked up on shipboard. That means they learn the superstitions right along with everything else."

"Right," Tambu nodded. "Oh well, I'm glad we're under way again. If that's the biggest hassle on this ship, it's the shining star of the fleet."

"Speaking of shipboard hassles," Ramona said, "has there been any more word about the crewman who died on board the Scorpion?"

"As a matter of fact, the investigation's closed. The final ruling is suicide."

"Suicide?" Ramona frowned. "Any report as to the reason?"

"Space-depression." Tambu shrugged. "Egor says the guy was a borderline basket case when he signed on. Probably joined out of a death wish and decided to do it himself when he found out how slow things really are working for the fleet."

"Egor?" Ramona echoed. "You let Egor investigate it himself?"

"I didn't let him do it," Tambu protested. "He did it on his own initiative. Wouldn't you if it happened on your ship?"

"Aren't you going to conduct your own investigation as a check?"

"What for?" Tambu countered. "I have no reason to doubt Egor's conclusions. I thought you were the one who was always after me to delegate more and quit trying to run everything personally."

"Maybe I shouldn't say this," Ramona hesitated, pursing her lips, "but there have been a lot of rumors of discontent on the Scorpion."

"You're right, you shouldn't say it," Tambu commented grimly. "There are problems on the Scorpion. Egor has" reported them to me himself, and the last thing he needs right now are a lot of rumormongers fanning the flames."

"In that case, maybe I'd better take my rumors and leave."

"Hey, hey!" Tambu soothed, holding up a hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lean on you. Look, I know you're trying to help... and I appreciate it. It's just that I'm a bit on edge. I really hate wading through all this."

He gestured toward the table behind him.

"The yearly financial statements?" Ramona raised her eyebrows, her anger mollified by her curiosity. "I thought you enjoyed playing with numbers, love."

"There's a limit! Nine boxes of paper and data tapes is a bit much, even for me."

"Why don't you just review the summaries?" she suggested.

"These are the summaries. The support data behind them would fill several cargo holds."

"Well, it should solve your leisure-time problem," Ramona joked. "Seriously, though, why do you bother? I mean, just the fact that everyone has to submit yearly reports to you should serve as a deterrent against embezzlement without your having to review them all."

"Don't bet on it." Tambu sighed. "Sooner or later, people would figure it out if I just filed their reports. Sometimes... wait. Here, let me read this to you."

He fished around on the table for a specific sheet of paper, found it, held it aloft, and read:

"If you have gotten this far in our report, we will buy you a case of your favorite whiskey. Simply call so we know what brand to buy."

"Really?" Ramona laughed. "Are you going to collect?"

"I sure am," Tambu grinned. "And on the other eight notes like it I've found buried in other reports. I also get to send about a dozen terse reprimands to references to my parentage or sexual preferences."

"What are you going to do with all that liquor?" Ramona asked. "You don't drink anything but wine."

"Another year like this last one, and I'll be ready for the hard stuff. But, I can't actually accept the shipments. If nothing else, it would show which ship I was on. Instead, I'll have each donor send it off to a different ship, with a note that the ship's crew is to enjoy the gift with my compliments."

"Sounds like a good deal. Any chance my ship can get in on that?"

"I'll have to check my lists," he retorted with mock severity. "You know I won't play favorites. Just because you successfully seduced me doesn't mean you should expect special privileges."

"I stand duly chastised." She hung her head dramatically.

"Getting back to the original question, jokers like these would be able to tell in no time flat if I wasn't reading their reports."

"Which would be an open invitation to gimmick the books," Ramona acknowledged.

"Even if I trusted everyone implicitly, which I don't, but even if I did, I'd still take the time to review the reports. There's a lot of information here once you learn to read between the lines."

"Such as what?"

"Well," Tambu squinted, "I can tell how often they conduct target practice, what the condition of their ship is, the state of the crew's morale-"

"Wait a minute. You lost me. How can you tell all that from just looking at numbers?"

"By studying various expense items. For example, if a ship is spending less than half the amount on maintenance and parts as other ships the same size and age, I can make an educated guess that its condition is less than excellent."

"And crew morale?"

"If a captain is paying his crew low wages and is spending little or nothing on employee luxuries, they will be noticeably less happy than a well-paid crew on a ship with a new lounge and game room."