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The Ethical Engineer

Page 8

by Harry Harrison

because he grunted and dug through the contents of thebasket. His masked face stared at them and Jason could feel the impactof the unseen watching eyes. The club pointed again.

  "Where you come from? That you ship that burn, sink?"

  "That was our ship. We come from far away."

  "From other side of ocean?" This was apparently the largest distancethe slaver could imagine.

  "From the other side of the ocean, correct." Jason was in no mood todeliver a lecture on astronomy. "When do we eat?"

  "You a rich man in your country, got a ship, got shoes. Now I got yourshoes. You a slave here. My slave. You both my slaves."

  "I'm your slave, I'm your slave," Jason said resignedly. "But evenslaves have to eat. Where's the food?"

  Ch'aka grubbed around in the basket until he found a tiny and witheredroot which he broke in half and threw onto the sand in front of Jason.

  "Work hard you get more."

  Jason picked up the pieces and brushed away as much of the dirt as hecould. He handed one to Mikah and took a tentative bite out of theother one: it was gritty with sand and tasted like slightly rancidwax. It took a distinct effort to eat the repulsive thing but he did.Without a doubt it was food, no matter how unwholesome, and would dountil something better came along.

  "What did you talk about?" Mikah asked, grinding his own portionbetween his teeth.

  "Just swapping lies. He thinks we're his slaves and I agreed. But it'sjust temporary--" Jason added as anger colored Mikah's face and hestarted to climb to his feet. Jason pulled him back down. "This is astrange planet, you're injured, we have no food or water, and no ideaat all how to survive in this place. The only thing we can do to stayalive is to go along with what Old Ugly there says. If he wants tocall us slaves, fine--we're slaves."

  "Better to die free than to live in chains!"

  "Will you stop the nonsense. Better to live in chains and learn how toget rid of them. That way you end up alive-free rather than dead-free,a much more attractive state. Now shut up and eat. We can't doanything until you are out of the walking wounded class."

  * * * * *

  For the rest of the day the line of walkers plodded across the sandand in addition to helping Mikah, Jason found two of the _krenoj_, theedible roots. They stopped before dusk and dropped gratefully to thesand. When the food was divided they received a slightly largerportion, as evidence perhaps of Jason's attention to the work. Bothmen were exhausted and fell asleep as soon as it was dark.

  During the following morning they had their first break from thewalking routine. Their foodsearching always paralleled the unseen sea,and one slave walked the crest of the dunes that hid the water fromsight. He must have seen something of interest because he leaped downfrom the mound and waved both arms wildly. Ch'aka ran heavily to thedunes and talked with the scout, then booted the man from hispresence.

  Jason watched with growing interest as he unwrapped the bulky packageslung from his back and disclosed an efficient looking crossbow,cocking it by winding on a built-in crank. This complicated and deadlypiece of machinery seemed very much out of place with the primitiveslave-holding society, and Jason wished that he could get a betterlook at the device. Ch'aka fumbled a quarrel from another pouch andfitted it to the bow. The slaves sat silently on the sand while theirmaster stalked along the base of the dunes, then wormed his way overthem and out of sight, creeping silently on his stomach. A few minuteslater there was a scream of pain from behind the dunes and all theslaves jumped to their feet and raced to see. Jason left Mikah wherehe lay and was in the first rank of observers that broke over thehillocks and onto the shore.

  They stopped at the usual distance and shouted compliments about thequality of the shot and what a mighty hunter Ch'aka was. Jason had toadmit there was a certain truth in the claims. A large, furredamphibian lay at the water's edge, the fletched end of the crossbowbolt projecting from its thick neck and a thin stream of blood runningdown to mix with the surging waves.

  "Meat! Meat today!"

  "Ch'aka kills the _rosmaro_! Ch'aka is wonderful!"

  "Hail, Ch'aka, great provider," Jason shouted to get into the swing ofthings. "When do we eat?"

  The master ignored his slaves, sitting heavily on the dune until heregained his breath after the stalk. Then after cocking the crossbowagain he stalked over to the beast and with his knife cut out thequarrel, notching it against the bowstring still dripping with blood.

  "Get wood for fire," he commanded. "You, Opisweni, you use the knife."

  Shuffling backwards Ch'aka sat down on a hillock and pointed thecrossbow at the slave who approached the kill. Ch'aka had left hisknife in the animal and Opisweni pulled it free and began tomethodically flay and butcher the beast. All the time he worked hecarefully kept his back turned to Ch'aka and the aimed bow.

  "A trusting soul, our slave-driver," Jason mumbled to himself as hejoined the others in searching the shore for driftwood. Ch'aka had allthe weapons as well as a constant fear of assassination. If Opiswenitried to use the knife for anything other than the intended piece ofwork, he would get the crossbow quarrel in the back of his head. Veryefficient.

  Enough driftwood was found to make a sizable fire, and when Jasonreturned with his contribution the _rosmaro_ had been hacked intolarge chunks. Ch'aka kicked his slaves away from the heap of wood andproduced a small device from another of his sacks. Interested, Jasonpushed as close as he dared, into the front rank of the watchingcircle. Though he had never seen one of them before, the operation ofthe firemaker was obvious to him. A spring-loaded arm drove a fragmentof stone against a piece of steel, sparks flew out and were caught ina cup of tinder, where Ch'aka blew on them until they burst intoflame.

  Where had the firelighter and the crossbow come from? They wereevidence of a higher level of culture than that possessed by theseslave-holding nomads. This was the first bit of evidence that Jasonhad seen that there might be more to the cultural life of this planetthan they had seen since their landing. Later, while they were gorgingthemselves on the seared meat, he drew Mikah aside and pointed thisout.

  "There's hope yet. These illiterate thugs never manufactured thatcrossbow or firelighter. We must find out where they came from and seeabout getting there ourselves. I had a quick look at the quarrel whenCh'aka pulled it out, and I'll swear that it was turned from steel."

  "This has significance?" Mikah asked, puzzled.

  "It means an industrial society, and possible interstellar contact."

  "Then we must ask Ch'aka where he obtained them and leave at once.There will be authorities, we will contact them, explain thesituation, obtain transportation to Cassylia. I will not place youunder arrest again until that time."

  "How considerate of you," Jason said, lifting one eyebrow. Mikah wasabsolutely impossible, and Jason probed at his moral armor to see ifthere were any weak spots. "Won't you feel guilty about bringing meback to get killed? After all we are companions in trouble--and I didsave your life."

  Ijale]

  "I will grieve, Jason. I can see that though you are evil you are notcompletely evil, and given the right training could be fitted for auseful place in society. But my personal grief must not be allowed toalter events: you forget that you committed a crime and must pay thepenalty."

  Ch'aka belched cavernously inside his shell-helmet and howled at hisslaves.

  "Enough eating, you pigs. You get fat. Wrap the meat and carry it, wehave light yet to look for _krenoj_. Move!"

  * * * * *

  Once more the line was formed and began its slow pace across thedesert. More of the edible roots were found, and once they stoppedbriefly to fill the water bags at a spring that bubbled up out of thesand. The sun dropped towards the horizon and what little warmth itpossessed was absorbed by a bank of clouds. Jason looked around andshivered--then noticed the line of dots moving on the horizon. Henudged Mikah who still leaned heavily on him.

  "Looks like company coming. I wonder where they
fit into theprogram?"

  Pain had blurred Mikah's attention and he took no notice and,surprisingly enough, neither did any of the other slaves nor Ch'aka.The dots expanded and became another row of marchers, apparentlyabsorbed in the same task as Jason's group. They plodded forward,making a slow examination of the sand, followed behind by the solitaryfigure of their master. The two lines slowly approached each other,paralleling the shore.

  Near the dunes was a crude mound of stones and the line of walkingslaves stopped as soon as they reached it, dropping with satisfiedgrunts onto the sand. The cairn was obviously a border marker andCh'aka walked to it and rested his foot on one of the stones, watchingwhile the other

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