The Ethical Engineer

by Harry Harrison

this, but the terrified slaves did nothave the solace of his philosophy so struggled on, thinking that theywere fighting for their lives. When Jason's turn came he did notsubmit meekly, in spite of his beliefs, and managed to bite somefingers and kick one man in the stomach before they sat on him, heldhis nose and poured a measure of the burning liquid down his throat.It hurt and he was dizzy, and he tried to will himself to throw up,but this was the last thing that he remembered.

  VII

  "Drink some more of this," the voice said, and cold water splashed onJason's face and some of it trickled down his throat making him cough.Something hard was pressing into his back and his wrists hurt. Memoryseeped back slowly, the fight, the capture and the potion that hadbeen forced upon him. When he opened his eyes he saw a flickeringyellow lamp overhead, hung from a chain. He blinked at it and tried togather enough energy to sit up. A familiar face swam in front of thelight and Jason squinted his eyes at it and groaned.

  "Is that you Mikah--or are you just part of a nightmare?"

  "There is no escape from justice, Jason. It is I, and I have somegrave questions to put to you."

  Jason groaned again. "You're real all right. Even in a nightmare Iwouldn't dare dream up any lines like that. But before the questions,how about telling me a thing or two about the local setup, you shouldknow something since you have been a slave of the D'zertanoj longerthan I have." Jason realized that the pain in his wrists came fromheavy iron shackles. A chain passed through them and was stapled to athick wooden bar on which his head had been resting. "Why thechains--and what is the local hospitality like?"

  Mikah resisted the invitation to impart any vital information andreturned irresistibly to his own topic.

  "When I saw you last you were a slave of Ch'aka, and tonight you werebrought in with the other slaves of Ch'aka and chained to the barwhile you were unconscious. There was an empty place next to mine andI told them I would tend you if they placed you there, and they did.Now there is something I must know. Before they stripped you I sawthat you were wearing the armor and helmet of Ch'aka. Where is theman--what happened to him?"

  "Me Ch'aka," Jason rasped, and burst out coughing from the dryness in histhroat. He took a long drink of water from the bowl. "You sound veryvindictive, Mikah you old fraud. Where is all the turn-the-other-cheekstuff now? Don't tell me you could possibly hate the man just because hehit you on the head, fractured your skull and sold you down the river as aslave reject? In case you have been brooding over this injustice you cannow be cheered because the evil Ch'aka is no more. He is buried in thetrackless wastes and after all the applicants were sifted out I got thejob."

  "You killed him?"

  "In a word--yes. And don't think that it was easy since he had all theadvantages and I possessed only my native ingenuity, which luckilyproved to be enough. It was touch and go for a while because when Itried to assassinate him in his sleep--"

  "You _what_?" Mikah Samon hissed.

  "Got to him at night. You don't think anyone in his right mind wouldtackle a monster like that face-to-face do you? Though it ended upthat way, since he had some neat gadgets for keeping track of peoplein the dark. Briefly, we fought, I won, I became Ch'aka, though myreign was neither long nor noble. I followed you as far as the desertwhere I was neatly trapped by a shrewd old bird name of Edipon whodemoted me back to the ranks and took away all my slaves as well. Nowthat's my story. So tell me yours, where we are, what goes on here?"

  "Assassin! Slave holder!" Mikah reared back, as far as he could underthe restraint of the chain, and pointed the finger of judgment atJason. "Two more charges must be added to your role of infamy. Isicken myself, Jason, that I could ever have felt sympathy for you andtried to help you. I will still help you, but only to stay alive sothat you may be taken back to Cassylia for trial and execution."

  "I like that example of fair and impartial justice--trial _and_execution." Jason coughed again and drained the bowl of water. "Didn'tyou ever hear of presumed innocence until proven guilty? It onlyhappens to be the mainstay of all jurisprudence. And how could youpossibly justify trying me on Cassylia for actions that occurred onthis planet--that aren't crimes here? That's like taking a cannibalaway from his tribe and executing him for anthropophagy."

  "What would be wrong with that? The eating of human flesh is a crimeso loathsome I shudder to think of it. Of course a man who does thatmust be executed."

  "If he slips in the back door and eats one of your relatives, youcertainly have grounds for action. But not if he joins the rest of hisjolly tribe for a good roast of enemy. Don't you see the obvious pointhere--that human conduct can only be judged in relation to itsenvironment? Conduct is relative. The cannibal in his society is justas moral as the churchgoer in yours."

  "Blasphemer! A crime is a crime! There are moral laws that stand aboveall human society."

  "Oh no there are not, that's just the point where your medievalmorality breaks down. All laws and ideas are historical and relative,not absolute. They are relevant to their particular time and place andtaken out of context they lose their importance. Within the context ofthis grubby society I acted in a most straightforward and honestmanner. I attempted to assassinate my master--which is the only way anambitious boy can get ahead in this hard world, and which wasundoubtedly the way Ch'aka himself got the job in the first place.Assassination didn't work but combat did, and the results were thesame. Once in power I took good care of my slaves, though of coursethey didn't appreciate it since they didn't want good care, they onlywanted my job, that being the law of the land. The only thing I reallydid wrong was to not live up to my obligations as a slave holder andkeep them marching up and down the beaches forever. Instead I camelooking for you and was trapped and broken back to slavery where Ibelong for pulling such a stupid trick."

  The door crashed open and harsh sunlight streamed into the windowlessbuilding. "On your feet slaves!" a D'zertano shouted in through theopening.

  A chorus of shufflings and groans broke out as the men stirred tolife. Jason could see now that he was one of twenty slaves shackled tothe long bar, apparently the entire trunk of a good-sized tree. Theman chained at the far end seemed to be a leader of sorts because hecursed and goaded the others to life. When they were all standing hesnapped his commands in a hectoring tone of voice.

  "Come on, come on, first come best food. And don't forget your bowls,put them away so they can't drop out, remember nothing to eat or drinkall day unless you have a bowl. And let's work together today,everyone pull his weight, that's the only way to do it. That goes forall you men, specially you new men. Give them a day's work here andthey give you a day's food...."

  "Oh shut up!" someone shouted.

  "... And you can't complain about that," the strawboss whined on,unperturbed. "Now altogether ... _one_ ... bend down and get yourhands around the bar, get a good grip and ... _two_ ... lift it clearof the ground, that's the way. And ... _three_ ... stand up and outthe door we go."

  They shuffled out into the sunlight and the cold wind of dawn bitthrough his Pyrran coverall and the remnants of Ch'aka's leathertrappings that Jason had been allowed to keep. His captors had tornoff the claw-studded feet but not bothered the wrappings underneath,so they hadn't found his boots. This was the only bright spot on anotherwise unlimited vista of blackest gloom. Jason tried to bethankful for small blessings, but only shivered some more. As soon aspossible this situation had to be changed since he had already servedhis term as slave on this backwoods planet and was cut out for betterthings.

  On order the slaves lined up against the walls of the yard. Presentingtheir bowls like scruffy penitents they accepted dippers of lukewarmsoup from another slave who pushed along a wheeled tub of the stuff:he was chained to the tub. Jason's appetite vanished when he tastedthe sludge. It was _krenoj_ soup, and the desert tubers tasted evenworse--he hadn't thought it was possible--when served up in a broth.But survival was more important than fastidiousness, so he gulped theevil stuff down.

  * * *
* *

  Breakfast over they marched out the gate into another compound andfascinated interest displaced all of Jason's concerns. In the centerof the yard was a large capstan into which the first group of slaveswere already fitting the end of their bar. Jason's group, and the twoothers, shuffled into position and seated their bars, making a fourspoked wheel out of the capstan. An overseer shouted and the slavesgroaned and threw their weight against the bars until they shudderedand began to turn, then trudging slowly they kept the wheel moving.Once this slogging labor was under way Jason turned his attention tothe crude mechanism that they were powering.

  A vertical shaft from the capstan turned a creaking wooden wheel thatset a series of leather belts into motion. Some of them vanishedthrough openings into a large stone building, while the strongeststrap of all turned the rocker arm of what could only be acounterbalanced pump. This all seemed like a highly inefficient way togo about pumping water since there certainly must be natural springsand lakes somewhere around. The pungent smell that filled the yard washauntingly familiar, and Jason had just reached the conclusion thatwater couldn't be the object of their labors when a throaty gurglingcame from the standpipe of the pump and a thick black stream bubbledout.

  "Petroleum--of course!" Jason enthused out loud, then bent hisattentions to pushing when the overseer gave him an ugly look andcracked his whip menacingly.

  This was the secret of the D'zertanoj, and the source of their power.Mountains were visible nearby, and hills, towering above thesurrounding walls. The captured slaves had been drugged so they wouldnot even know in which direction they had been brought to this hiddensite, or how long the trip was. Here in this guarded valley theylabored to pump the crude oil that their masters used to power theirbig desert wagons. Or did they use crude oil for this? The petroleumwas gurgling out in a solid stream now, and running down an opentrough that vanished through the wall into the same building as theturning belts. And what barbaric devilishness went on in there? Athick chimney crowned the building and produced clouds of black smoke,while from the various openings in the wall came a tremendous stenchthat threatened to lift the top off his head.

  At the same moment that he realized what was going on in the buildinga guarded door was opened and Edipon came out, blowing his sizablenose in a scrap of rag. The creaking wheel turned and when itsrotation brought Jason around again he called out to him.

  "Hey, Edipon, come over here. I want to talk to you. I'm the formerCh'aka, in case you don't recognize me out of uniform."

  Edipon gave him one look, then turned away dabbing at his nose. It wasobvious that slaves held no interest for him, no matter what theirposition had been before their fall. The slave-driver ran over with aroar, raising his whip, while the slow rotation of the wheel carriedJason away. He shouted back over his shoulder.

  "Listen to me--I know a lot and can help you." Only a turned back foran answer and the whip was already whistling down. It was time for thehard sell. "You had better hear me--because I know that _what comesout first is best_. Yeow!" This last was involuntary as the whiplanded.

  Jason's words were without meaning to the slaves as well as theoverseer who was raising his whip for another blow, but their impacton Edipon was as dramatic as if he had stepped on a hot coal. Heshuddered to a halt and wheeled about, and even at this distance Jasoncould see that a sickly gray tone had replaced his normal brownedcolor of his skin.

  "_Stop the wheel!_" he shouted.

  * * * * *

  This unexpected command drew the startled attention of everyone. Thegape-mouthed overseer lowered his whip while the slaves stumbled andhalted and the wheel groaned to a stop. In the sudden silence Edipon'ssteps echoed loudly as he ran to Jason, halting a hand's breadth away,his lips drawn back from his teeth with tension as if he were preparedto bite.

  "What was that you said?" He hurled the words at Jason while hisfingers half-plucked a knife from his belt.

  Jason smiled, looking and acting calmer than he felt. His barb hadgone home, but unless he proceeded carefully so would Edipon'sknife--into his stomach. This was obviously a very sensitive topic.

  "You heard what I said--and I don't think you want me to repeat it infront of all these strangers. I know what happens here because I comefrom a place far away where we do this kind of thing all the time. Ican help you. I can show you how to get more of the best, and how tomake your _caroj_ work better. Just try me. Only unchain me from thisbar first and let's get to some place private where we can have a nicechat."

  Edipon's thoughts were obvious. He chewed his lip and looked hotly atJason, fingering the edge of his knife. Jason only returned a smile ofpure innocence and tapped his fingers happily on the bar, just markingtime while he waited to be released. Yet in spite of the cold therewas a rivulet of sweat trickling down his spine. He was gamblingeverything on Edipon's intelligence, that the man's curiosity wouldovercome the immediate desire to silence the slave who knew so muchabout things so secret, hoping that he would remember that slavescould always be killed, and that it wouldn't hurt to ask a fewquestions first. Curiosity won and the knife dropped back into thesheath while Jason let his breath out in a relieved sigh. It had beenentirely too close, even for a professional gambler; his own life onthe board was a little higher stakes than he enjoyed playing for.

  "Release him from the bar and bring him to me," Edipon ordered, thenstrode agitatedly away. The other slaves watched wide-eyed as theblacksmith was rushed out, and with much confusion and shouted ordersJason's chain was cut from the bar where it joined the heavy staple.

  "What are you doing?" Mikah asked, and one of the guards backhandedhim to the ground. Jason just smiled and touched his finger to hislips as his chain was released and they led him away. He was free frombondage and he would stay that way if he could convince Edipon that hewould be better off in some capacity other than dumb labor.

  * * * * *

  The room they led him to contained the first touches of decoration orself-indulgence that he had seen on this planet. The furniture wascarefully constructed, with an occasional bit of carving to brightenit, and there was a woven cover on the bed. Edipon stood by a table,tapping his fingers nervously on the dark polished surface. "Lock himup," he ordered the guards, and Jason was secured to a sturdy ringboltthat projected from the wall. As soon as the guards were gone he stoodbefore Jason and drew his knife. "Tell me what you know or I will killyou at once."

  "My past is an open book to you, Edipon. I come from a land where weknow all the secrets of nature--"

  "What is the name of this land? Are you a spy from Appsala?"

  "I couldn't very well be one since I have never heard of the place."Jason pulled at his lower lip, wondering just how intelligent Ediponwas, and just how frank he could be with him. This was no time to gettangled up in lies about planetary geography: it might be best to tryhim on a small dose of the truth. "If I told you I came from anotherplanet, another world in the sky up among the stars, would you believeme?"

  "Perhaps. There are many old legends that our forefathers came from aworld beyond the sky, but I have always dismissed this as religiousdrivel, fit only for women."

  "In this case the girls happen to be right. Your planet was settled bymen whose ships crossed the emptiness of space as your _caroj_ passover the desert. Your people have forgotten about that and lost thescience and knowledge you once had, but in other worlds the knowledgeis still held."

  "Madness!"

  "Not at all, it is science, though many times confused as being thesame thing. I'll prove my point. You know that I could never have beeninside your mysterious building out there, and I imagine you can besure no one has told me its secrets. Yet I'll bet you that I candescribe fairly accurately what is in there--not from seeing themachinery, but from knowing what must be done to oil in order to getthe products you need. Do you want to hear?"

  "Proceed," Edipon said, sitting on a corner of the table and balancingthe knife
loosely in his palm.

  "I don't know what you call it, the device, but in the trade it is apot still used for fractional distillation. Your crude oil runs into atank of some kind, and you pipe it from there to a retort, some bigvessel that you can seal airtight. Once it is closed you light a fireunder the thing and try to get all the oil to an even temperature. Agas rises from the oil and you take it off through a pipe and run itthrough a condenser, probably more pipe with water running over it.Then you put a bucket under the open end of the pipe and out of itdrips the juice that you burn in your _caroj_ to make them move."

  Edipon's eyes opened wider and wider while Jason talked until theystuck out of his head like boiled eggs. "Demon!" he screeched andtottered towards Jason with the knife extended. "You couldn't haveseen, not through stone walls, yet only my family have seen, noothers--I'll swear to that!"

  "Keep cool, Edipon, I told you that we have been doing this stuff foryears in my country." He balanced on one foot, ready for a kick at theknife in case the old man's nerves did not settle down. "I'm not outto steal your secrets, in fact they are pretty small potatoes where Icome from since every farmer has a still for cooking up his own mashand saving on taxes. I'll bet I can even put in some improvements foryou, sight unseen. How do you monitor the temperature on your cookingbrew? Do you have thermometers?"

  "What are thermometers?" Edipon asked, forgetting the knife for themoment, drawn on by the joys of a technical discussion.

  "That's what I thought. I can see where your bootleg joyjuice is goingto take a big jump in quality, if you have anyone here who can do somesimple glassblowing. Though it might be easier to rig up a coiledbi-metallic strip. You're trying to boil off your various fractions,and unless you keep an even and controlled temperature you are goingto have a mixed brew. The thing you want for your engines are the mostvolatile fractions, the liquids that boil off first like gasoline andbenzene. After that you raise the temperature and collect kerosene foryour lamps and so forth right on down the line until you have a nicemass of tar left to pave your roads with. How does that sound to you?"

  * * * * *

  Edipon had forced himself into calmness, though a jumping muscle inhis cheek betrayed his inner tension. "What you have described is thetruth, though you were wrong on some small things. But I am notinterested in your thermometer nor in improving our water-of-power, ithas been good enough for my family for generations and it is goodenough for me...."

  "I bet you think that line is original?"

  "... There is something that you might be able to do that would bringyou rich rewards. We can be generous when needs be. You have seen our_caroj_ and ridden on one, and seen me go into the shrine to intercedewith the sacred powers to make us move. Can you tell me what powermoves the _caroj_?"

  "I hope this is the final exam, Edipon, because you are stretching mypowers of extrapolation. Stripping away all the _shrines_ and _sacredpowers_ I would say that you go into the engine room to do a piece ofwork with very little praying involved. There could be a number ofways of moving those barns, but let's think of the simplest. This istop of the head now, so no penalties if I miss any of the fine points.

  "Internal combustion is out, I doubt if you have the technology tohandle it, plus the fact there was a lot to do about the water tankand it took you almost an hour to get under way. That sounds like youwere getting up a head of steam--the safety valve! I forgot aboutthat. So it is steam. You go in, lock the door of course, then open acouple of valves until the fuel drips into the firebox, then you lightit. Maybe you have a pressure gauge, or maybe you just wait until thesafety valve pops to tell you if you have a head of steam. Which canbe dangerous since a sticking valve could blow the whole works rightover the mountain.

  "Once you have the steam you crack a valve to let it into thecylinders and get the thing moving. After that you just enjoy thetrip, of course making sure the water is feeding to your boiler allright, that your pressure stays up, your fire is hot enough, all yourbearings are lubricated and the rest...."

  Jason looked on astounded as Edipon did a little jig around the room,holding his robe up above his bony knees. Bouncing with excitement hejabbed his knife into the table top and rushed over to Jason andgrabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him until his chain rattled.

  "Do you know what you have done?" he asked. "Do you know what you havesaid?"

  "I know well enough. Does this mean that I have passed the exam? Was Iright?"

  "I don't know if you are right or not. I have never seen the inside ofone of the Appsalan devil-boxes." He danced around the room again."You know more about their ... what do you call it, _engine_ ... thanI do. I have only spent my life tending them and cursing the peopleof Appsala who keep the secret from us. But you will reveal it to us!We will build our own engines and if they want water-of-power theywill have to pay dearly for it."

  "Would you mind being a little bit clearer," Jason pleaded. "I havenever heard anything so confused in my entire life."

  "I will show you, man from a far world, and you will reveal theAppsalan secrets to us. I see the dawn of a new day for Putl'koarriving." He opened the door and shouted for the guards, and for hisson, Narsisi, who arrived as they were unlocking Jason who recognizedhim as the same droop-eyed and sleepy looking D'zertano who had beenhelping Edipon to drive their ungainly vehicle.

  "Seize this chain my son and keep your club ready to kill this slaveif he makes any attempt to escape. Otherwise do not harm him, for heis very valuable. Come."

  He tugged on the chain, but Jason only dug his heels in and did notmove. They looked at him, astonished.

  "Just a few things before we go. The man who is to bring the new dayto Putl'ko is not a slave, let us get that straight before thisoperation goes any further. We'll work out something with chains orguards so I can't escape, but the slavery thing is out."

  "But--you are not one of us, therefore you must be a slave."

  "I've just added a third category to your social order. Employee.Though reluctant, I am still an employee, skilled labor, and I intendto be treated that way. Figure it out for yourself. Kill a slave andwhat do you lose? Very little if there is another slave in the pensthat can push in the same place. But kill me and what do you get?Brains on your club--and they do you no good at all there."

  "Say, Dad, does he mean I can't kill him?" Narsisi looked puzzled aswell as sleepy.

  "No, he doesn't mean that. He means if we kill him there is no one elsethat can do the work he is to do for us. I can understand him and I do notlike it. There are only slaves and slavers, anything else is against thenatural order. But he has us trapped between _satano_ and the sand-stormso we must allow him some freedoms. Bring the slave now ... I mean theemployee ... and we will see if he can do the things he has promised. Ifhe does not, _I_ will have the pleasure of killing him because I do notlike his revolutionary ideas."

  * * * * *

  They marched single file to a locked and guarded building with immensedoors, which were pulled open to reveal the massive forms of seven_caroj_.

  "Look at them," Edipon hissed and tugged at his nose. "The finest andmost beautiful of constructions, striking fear into our enemies'hearts, carrying us fleetly across the sands, bearing on their backsimmense loads and only three of the things are able to move."

  "Engine trouble?" Jason asked lightly.

  Edipon grumbled, cursed and fumed under his breath and led the way toan inner courtyard where stood four immense black boxes painted withdeath-heads, splintered bones, fountains of blood and cabalisticsymbols all of a sinister appearance.

  "Those swine in Appsala take our water-of-power and give nothing inreturn. Oh yes, they let us use their engines, but after running for afew months the cursed things stop and will not go again, then we mustbring them back to the city to exchange for a new one, and pay againand again."

  "A nice racket," Jason said, looking at the sealed covering on theengines. "Why don't you just crack
into them and fix them yourself,they can't be very complex."

  "That is death!" Edipon gasped, and both D'zertanoj recoiled from theboxes at the thought. "We have tried that, in my father's father'sday, since we are not superstitious like the slaves and know thatthese are man-made not god-made. However the tricky serpents ofAppsala hide their secrets with immense cunning. If any attempt ismade to break the covering horrible death leaks out and fills the air.Men who breathe the air die, and even those who are solely touched byit develop immense blisters and die in pain. The man of Appsalalaughed when this happened to our people and after that raised theprice even higher."

  Jason circled one of the boxes, examining it with interest, trailingNarsisi behind him at the end of the chain. The thing was higher thanhis head and almost twice as long. A heavy shaft emerged throughopenings on opposite sides, probably the power takeoff for the wheels.Through an opening in the side he could see inset handles and twosmall colored disks, and above this were three funnel-shaped openingsshaped and painted like mouths. By standing on tiptoe Jason looked ontop but there was only a flanged, sooty opening that must be forattachment of a smokestack. There was only one more opening, asmallish one in the rear, and no other controls on the garishcontainer.

  "I'm beginning to get the picture, but you will have to tell me howyou work the controls."

  "Death before that," Narsisi shouted. "Only my family--"

  "Will you shut up!" Jason shouted right back. "Remember? You're notallowed to browbeat the help anymore. There are no secrets here. Notonly that, but I probably know more about this thing than you do justby looking at it. Oil, water and fuel go in these three openings, youpoke a light in somewhere, probably in that smoky hole under thecontrols, open one of those valves for fuel supply, another one is tomake the engine go slower and faster, and the third is for your waterfeed. The disks are indicators of some kind." Narsisi paled andstepped back. "So keep the trap shut while I talk to your dad."

  "It is as you