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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30964-h.zip b/30964-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..27a1820 --- /dev/null +++ b/30964-h.zip diff --git a/30964-h/30964-h.htm b/30964-h/30964-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..29c2a6e --- /dev/null +++ b/30964-h/30964-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5369 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Ethical Engineer, by Harry Harrison + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; background-color: #FFFFFF; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + +.img1 {border:solid 1px; } + + +.p1 { font-size:x-large; font-weight:bold; margin-left:30%; } + +.p2 { margin-left:50%; } + +.p3 { margin-left:55%; } + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; font-size:smaller;} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 15em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-right: 0.25em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ethical Engineer, by Henry Maxwell Dempsey + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Ethical Engineer + +Author: Henry Maxwell Dempsey + +Illustrator: John Schoenherr + +Release Date: January 14, 2010 [EBook #30964] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ETHICAL ENGINEER *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction July and August 1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 369px;"> +<img class="img1" src="images/cover.jpg" width="369" height="498" alt="" title="" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/image_001.jpg" width="500" height="537" alt="" title="" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<h1>THE ETHICAL ENGINEER</h1> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>That mores is strictly a matter of local custom cannot be +denied. But that ethics is pure opinion also...? Maybe there +are times for murder, and theft and slavery....</p></div> + +<p> </p> + +<h2>BY HARRY HARRISON</h2> + +<p> </p> + +<h3>Illustrated by John Schoenherr</h3> +<p> </p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All nature is but art, unknown to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All chance, direction which thou canst not see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All discord, harmony not understood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All partial evil, universal good:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, spite of pride, in erring reasons spite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="p2">Alexander Pope</p> +<p class="p3"><i>Essay on Man</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>Jason dinAlt looked unhappily at the two stretchers as they were +carried by. "Are they at it again?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Brucco nodded, the scowl permanently ingrained now on his hawklike +face. "We have only one thing to be thankful for. That is—so far at +least—they haven't used any weapons on each other."</p> + +<p>Jason looked down unbelievingly at the shredded clothing, crushed +flesh and broken bones. "The absence of weapons doesn't appear to make +much difference when two Pyrrans start fighting. It seems impossible +that this damage could be administered bare-handed."</p> + +<p>"Well it was. Even you should know that much about Pyrrus by now. We +take our fighting very seriously. But they never think how much more +work it makes for me. Now I have to patch these two idiots up and try +to find room for them in the ward." He stalked away, irritated and +annoyed as always. Jason usually laughed at the doctor's irascible +state, but not today.</p> + +<p>Today, and for some days past, he had found himself living with a +persistent feeling of irritation, that had arrived at the same time as +his discovery that it is far easier to fight a war than to administer +a peace. The battle at the perimeter still continued, since the massed +malevolence of the Pyrran life forms were not going to call a truce +simply because the two warring groups of humans had done so. There was +battle on the perimeter and a continual feeling of unrest inside the +city. So far there had been very little traffic between the city +Pyrrans and those living outside the walls, and what contact there had +been usually led to the kind of violence he had just witnessed. The +only minor note of hope in this concert of discord was the fact that +no one had died—as yet—in any of these fearsome hand-to-hand +conflicts. In spite of the apparent deadliness of the encounters all +of the Pyrrans seemed to understand that, despite past hatreds, they +were all really on the same side. A distant rumble from the clouded +sky broke through his thoughts.</p> + +<p>"There is a ship on the radar," Meta said, coming out of the +ground-control office and squinting up at the overcast. "I wonder if +it is that ecology expedition that Brucco arranged—or the cargo ship +from Ondion?"</p> + +<p>"We'll find out in a few minutes," Jason said, happy to forget his +troubles for the moment in frank admiration, since just looking at +Meta was enough to put a golden edge on this gloom-filled day. +Standing there, head back searching the sky, she managed to be +beautiful even in the formless Pyrran coverall. Jason put his arms +around her waist and exacted a great deal of pleasure from kissing the +golden length of her up-stretched throat.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jason ... not now," she said in exasperation. Pyrran minds, by +necessity, run along one track at a time, and at the present moment +she was thinking about the descending spaceship. With a quick motion, +scarcely aware of her action, she pulled his hands from her and pushed +him away, an easy enough thing for a Pyrran girl to do. But in doing +so she half fractured one of his wrists, numbed the other, and knocked +Jason to the ground.</p> + +<p>"Darling ... I'm sorry," she gasped, suddenly realizing what she had +done, bending quickly to help him up.</p> + +<p>"Get away, you lady weight-lifter," he growled, pushing aside the +proffered hand and struggling to his feet. "When are you going to +realize that I'm only human, not made of chrome steel bars like the +rest of your people...." He stifled the rest of his words in disgust, +at himself, his temper, this deadly planet and the cantankerousness of +its citizens that was scratching away at his nerves. He turned and +stamped away, angry at himself for taking out his vile mood on Meta, +but still too annoyed to make peace.</p> + +<p>Meta watched him leave, trying to say something that would end this +foolish quarrel, but unable to. The largest blank in the Pyrran +personality was an almost complete lack of knowledge of human nature, +and her struggle to fill in the gaps—gaps she was only just beginning +to realize existed—was a difficult one. The stronger emotions of hate +and fear were no strangers to her; but for the first time she was +discovering how difficult and complex was this unusual feeling of +love. She let Jason go because she was incapable of any other action. +Of course she could stop him by force, but if she had learned anything +in the past few weeks, it was the discovery that this was one area +where he was very sensitive. There was no doubt that she was far +stronger than he—physically—and he did not like to be reminded about +it. She went back into the ground-control room, almost eager to deal +with the impersonal faces of the dials and scopes, material and +unchanging entities that posed no conflicting problems.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Jason stood at the edge of the field and watched the ship come in for +a landing, his anger forgotten temporarily in the presence of this +break in routine. Perhaps this was the shipful of scientific eggheads +that Brucco was expecting; he hoped so. It would be a pleasant treat +to have a conversation with someone about a topic more universal than +the bore dimensions of guns. With practiced eye he watched the landing +which was a little sloppy, either a new pilot or an old one who didn't +care much. It was a small ship so not many people would be aboard. +Then the spacer turned for a moment, in a landing correction, and he +had a quick glimpse of a serial number and tantalizingly familiar +insignia on its stern—where had he seen that before?</p> + +<p>The ship touched down and the flaring rockets died. There was only the +click of cooling metal from the ship: no one emerged, nor did any of +the Pyrrans seem interested enough in the newcomer to approach it. +That must mean that no one had any business with it, and, of course, +no curiosity either, for this along with imagination was in very short +supply on the war-torn planet. Since no one else was making any moves, +Jason went forward to investigate for himself.</p> + +<p>A stingwing that had escaped the perimeter guards dived towards him +and he blasted it automatically with his gun. The corpse thudded to +the ground and the soil churned around it as the insectile scavengers +fought for the flesh; only bare bones remained by the time he had +taken two paces.</p> + +<p>A muffled whine of motors told him that the lower hatch was opening, +and Jason watched as a hairline crack appeared in the thick metal, +then widened as the heavy door ground outwards. Through the opening he +had a glimpse of a figure muffled in a heavy-duty spacesuit. That must +be Meta's work, she would have contacted the ship by radio while it +was on its way down and explained the standing orders that no +off-worlders were to be allowed out of their ships unless wearing the +heaviest armor. Since the armed truce between the human inhabitants +there had been a lessening of the relentless warfare the Pyrran life +forms waged against the city, but only to a slight degree. Deadly +beasts still abounded, and the air was thick with toxic diseases. A +stranger, unprotected, would be ill in five minutes, dead within +ten—or much sooner if a horndevil or other beast got to him in the +interval.</p> + +<p>Jason felt a justified pride that he could walk this planet under his +own power. The natives, adapted to the deadliness and heavy gravity +since birth, were still his superiors, but he was the only off-worlder +who could stand the dangers of Pyrrus. His gun whined out of his power +holster into his waiting hand as he searched for some target to use +his talents on. An armored piece of nastiness, with a lot of legs, was +crawling into hiding under a rock and he blasted it neatly with a +single shot. The gun snapped back into the holster and he turned to +the open door of the spacer, his morale greatly improved.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Welcome to Pyrrus," he told the ungainly figure that clumped out of +the ship. There was a hefty maser-projector clutched in the armored +gloves and whoever was inside the suit, the face was invisible behind +the thick and tinted faceplate, seemed exceedingly nervous, turning to +look in all directions.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry," Jason said, fighting to keep a tone of smug +satisfaction out of his voice, "I'll take care of things for you. I +don't know what kind of horror stories you may have heard about +Pyrrus—but they're all true. That's a nice looking heat ray you have +there, but I doubt if you could move fast enough to use it."</p> + +<p>The figure lowered the gun and fumbled for a switch on the front of +the space armor, it clicked and a speaker diaphragm rustled.</p> + +<p>"I'm looking for a man called Jason dinAlt. Can you tell me if he is +on this planet or if he has left?"</p> + +<p>It was impossible to tell the speaker's tone from the rasping +diaphragm, and no face was visible that might betray an emotion. This +was the moment when Jason should have shown caution, and have +remembered that there were thousands of policemen scattered across the +galaxy who would heartily enjoy putting him under arrest. Yet he +couldn't imagine any of them going to the trouble of following him +here. And certainly there could be very little danger from a +spacesuited man with a rifle, not to the man who had learned to take +Pyrrus on its own terms, and live.</p> + +<p>"I'm Jason dinAlt," he said. "What do you want me for?"</p> + +<p>"I've come a long way to find you," the speaker rasped. "Now"—the +gloved hand pointed—"what is THAT?"</p> + +<p>Jason's reactions were instantaneous, conditioned to move without +thought. He wheeled, crouched, the gun in his hand and finger +quivering lightly on the trigger, pointed in the indicated direction. +There was nothing unusual to be seen, just an empty field and the +control building at the edge.</p> + +<p>"Whatever are you talking about ..." Jason asked, then stopped as it +became very obvious what the stranger had been talking about. The +large, flanged mouth of the maser-projector ground into the small of +his back. His own gun snapped halfway out of its holster, buzzed +briefly, then slipped back as he realized his position.</p> + +<p>"That's much better," the stranger said. "If you attempt to move, +turn, lower your gun hand or do anything I don't like I'll pull this +trigger and...."</p> + +<p>"I know," Jason sighed, careful to stand with every muscle frozen. +"You will pull the trigger and burn a nice round hole through my +backbone and intestines. But I would just like to know why? Who is it +that is so interested in my worthless old carcass that they were +willing to pay interstellar freight charges to send you and that +oversize toaster all the way here in order to threaten it?"</p> + +<p>Jason was only talking to kill time, since he knew this situation +would not stay static for long, not on Pyrrus. He was completely right +because before he had finished the ground-control door burst open and +Meta ran out, circling to the left. At the same moment Kerk appeared +from behind the building, his Pyrran reflexes absorbing the situation +in an instant and with no perceptible delay he ran in the opposite +direction. Both Pyrrans had their guns ready and closed in with the +merciless precision of trained predators.</p> + +<p>"Tell them to stop," the suit speaker grated at Jason. "I'll shoot you +if they try anything."</p> + +<p>"Hold it!" Jason shouted, and the running Pyrrans stopped instantly. +"Don't come any closer and whatever you do don't shoot." He +half-turned his head and spoke in a quieter voice to the suited figure +behind him. "Now you see where you stand. Lower the gun and get back +into your ship, I guarantee you'll stay alive if you do that at once."</p> + +<p>"Don't try and buff me, dinAlt," the maser barrel pushed harder +against his back. "You are my prisoner and your friends can't save +you. Start walking backwards now—I'll stay right behind you."</p> + +<p>"Look," Jason said calmly, not permitting himself to get angry. "Those +are <i>Pyrrans</i> out there. Either of them could kill you so quickly that +you couldn't possibly have time to pull that trigger. I'm saving your +life—though I don't know why I'm bothering—so be a good boy and get +back into your ship and go home and we'll give you a T for trying."</p> + +<p>"Could I have him, please Kerk?" Meta called out, the deadly +assumption of her remark punctuating Jason's logic. "After all, Jason +means more to me than you. Shall I kill him yet, Jason?"</p> + +<p>"Just shoot his gun hand off, Meta," Kerk told her, in the same +emotionless tone. "I want to know who this is, why he came here, +before he dies."</p> + +<p>"Get back into your ship, you fool," Jason hissed. "You've got only +seconds to live."</p> + +<p>"Start walking backwards," his captor said. "You are under arrest. +I'll count to three, then shoot. One ... two...."</p> + +<p>Jason shuffled a cautious step to the rear and the Pyrran guns snapped +up at the same instant, extended at arm's length. Jason was so close +to the man in the spacesuit that the guns could have been pointed at +him, the eyes sighting carefully over the dark muzzles.</p> + +<p>"Don't shoot!" Jason shouted to his friends.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry," Kerk called back. "We won't hit you."</p> + +<p>"I know that—it's this idiot here that I'm worrying about. You just +can't shoot him for trying to do his job. In fact I'm surprised to +find out that there is one honest cop left on any of the places I've +been."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk so crazy," Meta said with maddening sweetness. "We'll kill +him, Jason. We'll take care of you."</p> + +<p>Anger hit him. "You will NOT take care of me because I can take care +of myself. Either of you kill him and so help me I'll kill you." Jason +shuffled backwards faster now until his legs hit the lower edge of the +hatch. He clambered into it and burst out laughing at the dumfounded +expressions of his friends' faces. The laugh died as something pricked +the back of his neck. The pressure of the gun was gone and he swung +around, surprised to see the floor rushing up towards him, but before +it struck him blackness descended.</p> + +<p>Consciousness returned, accompanied by a thudding headache that made +Jason wince when he moved, and when he opened his eyes the pain of the +light made him screw them shut again. Whatever the drug was that had +knocked him out, it was fast working, and seemed to be oxidized just +as quickly. The headache faded away to a dull throb and he could open +his eyes without feeling that needles were being driven into them. He +was seated in a standard spacechair that had been equipped with wrist +and ankle locks, now well secured. A man sat in the chair next to him, +intent on the spaceship's controls; the ship was in flight and well +into space. The stranger was working the computer, cutting a tape to +control their flight in jump-space.</p> + +<p>Jason took the opportunity to study the man. He seemed to be a little +old for a policeman, though on second thought it was really hard to +tell his age. His hair was gray and cropped as short as a skull cap, +but the wrinkles on his leathery skin seemed to have been caused more +by exposure than advanced years. Tall and firmly erect, he appeared +underweight at first glance, until Jason realized this effect was +caused by the total absence of any excess flesh. It was as though he +had been cooked by the sun and leeched by the rain until only bone, +tendon and muscle were left. When he turned his head the muscles stood +out like cables under the skin of his neck and his hands at the +controls were the browned talons of some bird. A hard finger pressed +the switch that actuated the jump control, and he turned away from the +board to face Jason.</p> + +<p>"I see you are awake. It was a mild drug. I did not enjoy using it, +but it was the safest way."</p> + +<p>When he talked his jaw opened and shut with the seriousness of a bank +vault. The deep-set and cold blue eyes stared fixedly from under dark +brows. Jason stared back just as steadily and chuckled.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you didn't enjoy using the maser-projector either, nor +threatening to cook holes in me. For a cop you seem to be very tender +hearted."</p> + +<p>"I did it only to save your friends. I did not want them to get hurt."</p> + +<p>"Get hurt!" Jason roared with laughter. "Space-cop, don't you have any +idea what Pyrrans are like, or what kind of a setup you were walking +into? Don't you realize that I saved your life—though I really don't +know why. Call me a natural humanitarian. You may have a swollen head +and a ready trigger-finger, but you were so far out of your class that +you just weren't in the race. They could have blasted you into pieces, +then shot the pieces into smaller pieces, while you were still +thinking about pulling the trigger. You should just thank me for being +your savior."</p> + +<p>"So you are a liar as well as a thief," Jason's captor answered with +no change of expression. "You attempt to play on my sympathies to gain +your freedom. Why should I believe this story? I came to arrest you, +threatening to kill you if you didn't submit, and your friends were +there ready to defend you. Why should you attempt to save my life? It +does not make sense." He turned back to the controls to make an +adjustment.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"><span class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"><img src="images/image_002.jpg" width="250" height="555" alt="Mikah Samon" title="" /></span><span class="caption">Mikah Samon</span></div> + +<p>It didn't make sense, Jason agreed completely. Why had he saved this +oaf who meant nothing to him? It was not an easy question to answer, +though it had seemed so right at the time. If only Meta hadn't said +that they would take care of him; he knew they could and was tired of +it. He could take care of himself: he felt the anger rising again at +the remembered words. Was that the only reason he had let this cop +capture him? To show the Pyrrans that he was able to control his own +destiny? Was the human ego such a pitiable thing that it had to keep +reassuring itself of its own independence or lie down on its back and +curl up its toes?</p> + +<p>Apparently it was. At least his was. The years had taught him a +certain insight into his own personality and he realized that his +greedy little subconscious had collected all the cues and signals from +the encounter at the spaceport and goaded him into a line of action +that looked uncomfortably like suicide. The arrival of the stranger, +the threat to himself, the automatic assumption by the Pyrrans that +they would take care of him. Apparently his ego and his subconscious +felt that he had been taken care of too long. They had managed to get +him into this spot from which he could only be extricated by his own +talents, far away from Pyrrus and the pressures that had been weighing +on him so long.</p> + +<p>He took a deep breath and smiled. It wasn't such a bad idea after all. +Stupid in retrospect, but the stupidity could hopefully be kept in the +past. Now he had to prove that there was something other than a death +wish in his subconscious flight from Pyrrus, and he must find a way to +reverse positions with this cop, whoever he was. Which meant that he +had to find out a little more about the man before making any plans.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p>"I'm afraid you have the advantage of me, officer. How about telling +me who you are and showing me a warrant or something under which you +are performing this deed of interstellar justice."</p> + +<p>"I am Mikah Samon. I am returning you to Cassylia for trial and +sentencing."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes," Jason sighed. "I'm not surprised to hear that they are +still interested in finding me. But I should warn you that there is +very little remaining of the three-billion, seventeen-million credits +that I won from your casino."</p> + +<p>"Cassylia doesn't want the money back," Mikah said as he locked the +controls and swung about in his chair. "They don't want you back +either. You are their planetary hero now. When you escaped with your +ill-gotten gains they realized that they would never see the money +again. So they put their propaganda mills to work and you are now +known throughout all the adjoining star systems as 'Jason 3-Billion', +the living proof of the honesty of their dishonest games, and a lure +for all the weak in spirit. You tempt them into gambling for money +instead of working honestly for it."</p> + +<p>"Pardon me for being thick today," Jason said, shaking his head +rapidly to loosen up the stuck synapses. "I'm having a little +difficulty in following you. What kind of a policeman are you to +arrest me for trial after the charges have been dropped?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not a policeman," Mikah said sternly, his long fingers woven +tightly together before him, his eyes wide and penetrating. "I'm a +believer in Truth—nothing more. The corrupt politicians who control +Cassylia have placed you on a pedestal of honor. Honoring you, +another—and if possible—a more corrupt man, and behind your image +they have waxed fat. But I am going to use the Truth to destroy that +image, and when I destroy the image I shall destroy the evil that +produced it."</p> + +<p>"That's a tall order for one man," Jason said calmly—much calmer than +he really felt. "Do you have a cigarette?"</p> + +<p>"There is, of course, no tobacco or spirits on this ship. And I am +more than one man. I have followers. The Truth Party is already a +power to be reckoned with. We have spent much time and energy in +tracking you down, but it was worth it. We have followed your +dishonest trail into the past, to Mahaut's Planet, to the Nebula +Casino on Galipto, through a series of sordid crimes that turns an +honest man's stomach. We have warrants for your arrest from each of +these places, in some cases even the results of trials and your death +sentence."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it doesn't bother your sense of legality that those trials +were all held in my absence," Jason asked. "Or that I have only +fleeced casinos and gamblers—who make their living by fleecing +suckers?"</p> + +<p>Mikah Samon wiped away this consideration with a wave of his hand. +"You have been proven guilty of a number of crimes. No amount of +wriggling on the hook can change that. You should be thankful that +your revolting record will have a good use in the end. It will be the +lever with which we shall topple the grafting government of Cassylia."</p> + +<p>"I'm beginning to be sorry that I stopped Kerk and Meta from shooting +you," Jason said, shaking his head in wonder. "I have a very strong +suspicion that you are going to cause yourself—and a lot of other +people—a good deal of trouble before this thing is over. Look at me +for instance—" he rattled his wrists in their restraining bands. The +servo motors whined a bit as the detector unit came to life and +tightened the grasp of the cuffs, limiting his movement. "A little +while ago I was enjoying my health and freedom and I threw it all away +on the impulse to save your life. I'm going to have to learn to fight +those impulses."</p> + +<p>"If that is supposed to be a plea for mercy, it is sickening," Mikah +said. "I have never taken favors nor do I owe anything to men of your +type. Nor will I ever."</p> + +<p>"<i>Ever</i> like <i>never</i> is a long time," Jason said very quietly. "I wish +I had your serenity of mind about the sure order of things."</p> + +<p>"Your remark shows that there might be hope for you yet. You might be +able to recognise the Truth before you die. I will help you, talk to +you and explain."</p> + +<p>"Better the execution," Jason choked.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> +<p>"Are you going to feed me by hand—or unlock my wrists while I eat?" +Jason asked. Mikah stood over him with the tray, undecided. Jason gave +a light verbal prod, very gently, because whatever else he was, Mikah +was not stupid. "I would prefer you to feed me of course, you'd make +an excellent body servant."</p> + +<p>"You are capable of eating by yourself," Mikah responded instantly, +sliding the tray into the slots of Jason's chair. "But you will have +to do it with only one hand. If you were freed you would only cause +trouble." He touched the control on the back of the chair and the +right wrist lock snapped open. Jason stretched his cramped fingers and +picked up the fork.</p> + +<p>While he ate Jason's eyes were busy. Not obviously, since a gambler's +attention is never obvious, but many things can be seen if you keep +your eyes open and your attention apparently elsewhere. A sudden +glimpse of someone's cards, the slight change of expression that +reveals a player's strength. Item by item his seemingly random gaze +touched the items in the cabin: control console, screens, computer, +chart screen, jump control chart case, bookshelf. Everything was +observed, remembered and considered. Some combination of them would +fit into the plan.</p> + +<p>So far all he had was the beginning and the end of an idea. Beginning: +He was a prisoner in this ship, on his way back to Cassylia. End: He +was not going to remain a prisoner—nor return to Cassylia. Now all +that was missing was the vital middle. It looked impossible at the +moment, but Jason never considered that it couldn't be done. He +operated on the principle that you made your own luck. You kept your +eyes open as things evolved and at the right moment you acted. If you +acted fast enough, that was good luck. If you worried over the +possibilities until the moment had passed, that was bad luck.</p> + +<p>He pushed the empty plate away and stirred sugar into his cup. Mikah +had eaten sparingly and was now starting on his second cup of tea. His +eyes were fixed, unfocused in thought as he drank. He started slightly +when Jason called to him.</p> + +<p>"Since you don't stock cigarettes on this ship—how about letting me +smoke my own? You'll have to dig them out for me since I can't reach +the pocket while I'm chained to this chair."</p> + +<p>"I cannot help you," Mikah said, unmoving. "Tobacco is an irritant, a +drug and a carcinogen. If I gave you a cigarette, I would be giving +you cancer."</p> + +<p>"Don't be a hypocrite!" Jason snapped, inwardly pleased at the +rewarding flush in the other's neck. "They've taken the +cancer-producing agents out of tobacco for centuries now. And even if +they hadn't—how does that affect this situation. You're taking me to +Cassylia to certain death. So why should you concern yourself with the +state of my lungs in the future?"</p> + +<p>"I hadn't considered it that way. It is just that there are certain +rules of life...."</p> + +<p>"Are there?" Jason broke in, keeping the initiative and the advantage. +"Not as many as you like to think. And you people who are always +dreaming up the rules never carry your thinking far enough. You are +against drugs. Which drugs? What about the tannic acid in that tea +you're drinking? Or the caffeine in it? It's loaded with caffeine—a +drug that is both a strong stimulant and a diuretic. That's why you +won't find tea in spacesuit canteens. That's a case of a drug +forbidden for a good reason. Can you justify your cigarette ban the +same way?"</p> + +<p>Mikah started to talk, then thought for a moment. "Perhaps you are +right. I'm tired, and it is not important." He warily took the +cigarette case from Jason's pocket and dropped it onto the tray. Jason +didn't attempt to interfere. Mikah poured himself a third cup of tea +with a slightly apologetic air.</p> + +<p>"You must excuse me, Jason, for attempting to make you conform to my +own standards. When you are in pursuit of the big Truths, you +sometimes let the little Truths slip. I'm not intolerant, but I do +tend to expect everyone else to live up to certain criteria I have set +for myself. Humility is something we should never forget and I thank +you for reminding me of it. The search for Truth is hard."</p> + +<p>"There is no Truth," Jason told him, the anger and insult gone now +from his voice since he wanted to keep his captor involved in the +conversation. Involved enough to forget about the free wrist for a +while. He raised the cup to his lips and let the tea touch his lips +without drinking any. The half-full cup supplied an unconsidered +reason for his free hand.</p> + +<p>"No Truth?" Mikah weighed the thought. "You can't possibly mean that. +The galaxy is filled with Truth, it's the touchstone of Life itself. +It's the thing that separates Mankind from the animals."</p> + +<p>"There is no Truth, no Life, no Mankind. At least not the way you +spell them—with capital letters. They don't exist."</p> + +<p>Mikah's taut skin contracted into a furrow of concentration. "You'll +have to explain yourself," he said. "You're not being clear."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's you who aren't being clear. You're making a reality +where none exists. Truth—with a small <i>T</i> is a description, a +relationship. A way to describe a statement. A semantic tool. But +capital <i>T</i> Truth is an imaginary word, a noise with no meaning. It +pretends to be a noun but it has no referent. It stands for nothing. +It means nothing. When you say 'I believe in Truth' you are really +saying 'I believe in nothing'."</p> + +<p>"You're wrong, you're wrong," Mikah said, leaning forward, stabbing +with his finger. "Truth is a philosophical abstraction, one of the +tools that mankind's mind has used to raise it above the beasts—the +proof that we are not beasts ourselves, but a higher order of +creation. Beasts can be true—but they cannot know Truth. Beasts can +see, but they cannot see Beauty."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Arrgh!" Jason growled. "It's impossible to talk to you, much less +enjoy any comprehensible exchange of ideas. We aren't even speaking +the same language. Aside from who is right and who is wrong, for the +moment, we should go back to basics and at least agree on the meaning +of the terms that we are using. To begin with—can you define the +difference between <i>ethics</i> and <i>ethos</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," Mikah snapped, a glint of pleasure in his eyes at the +thought of a good rousing round of hair-splitting. "Ethics is the +discipline dealing with what it good or bad, or right or wrong—or +with moral duty and obligation. Ethos means the guiding beliefs, +standards or ideals that characterize a group or community."</p> + +<p>"Very good, I can see that you have been spending the long +spaceship-nights with your nose buried in the books. Now make sure the +difference between those two terms is very clear, because it is the +heart of the little communications problem we have here. Ethos is +inextricably linked with a single society and cannot be separated +from it, or it loses all meaning. Do you agree?"</p> + +<p>"Well...."</p> + +<p>"Come, come—you <i>have</i> to agree on the terms of your own definition. +The ethos of a group is just a catch-all term for the ways in which +the members of a group rub against each other. Right?"</p> + +<p>Mikah reluctantly produced a nod of acquiescence.</p> + +<p>"Now that we agree about that we can push on one step further. Ethics, +again by your definition, must deal with any number of societies or +groups. If there are any absolute laws of ethics, they must be so +inclusive that they can be applied to <i>any</i> society. A law of ethics +must be as universal of application as is the law of gravity."</p> + +<p>"I don't follow you...?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't think you would when I got to this point. You people who +prattle about your Universal Laws never really consider the exact +meaning of the term. My knowledge of the history of science is very +vague, but I'm willing to bet that the first Law of Gravity ever +dreamed up stated that things fell at such and such a speed, and +accelerated at such and such a rate. That's not a law, but an +observation that isn't even complete until you add 'on this planet.' +On a planet with a different mass there will be a different +observation. The law of gravity is the formula</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">mM</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">F = ——</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">d<sup>2</sup></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>and this can be used to compute the force of gravity between any two +bodies anywhere. This is a way of expressing fundamental and +unalterable principles that apply in all circumstances. If you are +going to have any real ethical laws they will have to have this same +universality. They will have to work on Cassylia or Pyrrus, or on any +planet or in any society you can find. Which brings us back to you. +What you so grandly call—with capital letters and a flourish of +trumpets—'Laws of Ethics' aren't laws at all, but are simple little +chunks of tribal ethos, aboriginal observations made by a gang of +desert sheepherders to keep order in the house—or tent. These rules +aren't capable of any universal application, even you must see that. +Just think of the different planets that you have been on and the +number of weird and wonderful ways people have of reacting to each +other—then try and visualize ten rules of conduct that would be +applicable in all these societies. An impossible task. Yet I'll bet +that you have ten rules you want me to obey, and if one of them is +wasted on an injunction against saying prayers to carved idols I can +imagine just how universal the other nine are. You aren't being +ethical if you try to apply them wherever you go—you're just finding +a particularly fancy way to commit suicide!"</p> + +<p>"You are being insulting!"</p> + +<p>"I hope so. If I can't reach you in any other way, perhaps insult will +jar you out of your state of moral smugness. How dare you even +consider having me tried for stealing money from the Cassylia casino +when all I was doing was conforming to their own code of ethics! They +run crooked gambling games, so the law under their local ethos must be +that crooked gambling is the norm. So I cheated them, conforming to +their norm. If they have also passed a law that says cheating at +gambling is illegal, the <i>law</i> is unethical, not the cheating. If you +are bringing me back to be tried by that law you are unethical, and I +am the helpless victim of an evil man."</p> + +<p>"Limb of Satan!" Mikah shouted, leaping to his feet and pacing back +and forth before Jason, clasping and unclasping his hands with +agitation. "You seek to confuse me with your semantics and so-called +ethics that are simply opportunism and greed. There is a Higher Law +that cannot be argued—"</p> + +<p>"That is an impossible statement—and I can prove it." Jason pointed +at the books on the wall. "I can prove it with your own books, some of +that light reading on the shelf there. Not the Aquinas—too thick. But +the little volume with <i>Lull</i> on the spine. Is that Ramon Lull's 'The +Booke of the Ordre of Chyualry'?"</p> + +<p>Mikah's eyes widened. "You know the book? You're acquainted with +Lull's writing?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," Jason said, with an offhandedness he did not feel, since +this was the only book in the collection he could remember reading, +the odd title had stuck in his head. "Now let me see it and I shall +prove to you what I mean." There was no way to tell from the unchanged +naturalness of his words that this was the moment he had been working +carefully towards. He sipped the tea. None of his tenseness showing.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Mikah Samon got the book and handed it to him.</p> + +<p>Jason flipped through the pages while he talked. "Yes ... yes, this is +perfect. An almost ideal example of your kind of thinking. Do you like +to read Lull?"</p> + +<p>"Inspirational!" Mikah answered, his eyes shining. "There is beauty in +every line and Truths that we have forgotten in the rush of modern +life. A reconciliation and proof of the interrelationship between the +Mystical and the Concrete. By manipulation of symbols he explains +everything by absolute logic."</p> + +<p>"He proves nothing about nothing," Jason said emphatically. "He plays +word games. He takes a word, gives it an abstract and unreal value, +then proves this value by relating it to other words with the same +sort of nebulous antecedents. His facts aren't facts—just meaningless +sounds. This is the key point, where your universe and mine differ. +You live in this world of meaningless facts that have no existence. My +world contains facts that can be weighed, tested, proven related to +other facts in a logical manner. My facts are unshakeable and +unarguable. They exist."</p> + +<p>"Show me one of your unshakeable facts," Mikah said, his voice calmer +now than Jason's.</p> + +<p>"Over there," Jason said. "The large green book over the console. It +contains facts that even you will agree are true—I'll eat every page +if you don't. Hand it to me." He sounded angry, making overly bold +statements and Mikah fell right into the trap. He handed the volume to +Jason, using both hands since it was very thick, metal bound and +heavy.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_003.jpg" width="600" height="139" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Now listen closely and try and understand, even if it is difficult +for you," Jason said, opening the book. Mikah smiled wryly at this +assumption of his ignorance. "This is a stellar ephemeris, just as +packed with facts as an egg is with meat. In some ways it is a history +of mankind. Now look at the jump screen there on the control console +and you will see what I mean. Do you see the horizontal green line? +Well, that's our course."</p> + +<p>"Since this is my ship and I'm flying it I'm aware of that," Mikah +said. "Get on with your proof."</p> + +<p>"Bear with me," Jason told him. "I'll try and keep it simple. Now the +red dot on the green line is our ship's position. The number above the +screen our next navigational point, the spot where a star's +gravitational field it strong enough to be detected in jump space. The +number is the star's code listing. DB89-046-229. I'll look it up in +the book"—he quickly flipped the pages—"and find its listing. No +name. A row of code symbols though that tell a lot about it. This +little symbol means that there is a planet or planets suitable for man +to live on. Doesn't say if any people are there though."</p> + +<p>"Where does this all lead to?" Mikah interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Patience—you'll see in a moment. Now look, at the screen. The green +dot approaching on the course line is the PMP. Point of Maximum +Proximity. When the red dot and green dot coincide...."</p> + +<p>"Give me that book," Mikah ordered, stepping forward. Aware suddenly +that something was wrong. He was just an instant too late.</p> + +<p>"Here's your proof," Jason said, and hurled the heavy book through the +jump screen into the delicate circuits behind. Before it hit he had +thrown the second book. There was a tinkling crash, a flare of light +and the crackle of shorted circuits.</p> + +<p>The floor gave a tremendous heave as the relays snapped open, dropping +the ship through into normal space.</p> + +<p>Mikah grunted in pain, clubbed to the floor by the suddenness of the +transition. Locked into the chair, Jason fought the heaving of his +stomach and the blackness before his eyes. As Mikah dragged himself to +his feet, Jason took careful aim and sent the tray and dishes hurtling +into the smoking ruin of the jump computer.</p> + +<p>"There's your fact," he said in cheerful triumph. "Your +incontrovertible, gold-plated, uranium-cored fact.</p> + +<p>"We're not going to Cassylia any more!"</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> +<p>"You've killed us both," Mikah said with his face strained and white +but his voice under control.</p> + +<p>"Not quite," Jason told him cheerily. "But I have killed the jump +control so we can't get to another star. However there's nothing wrong +with our space drive, so we can make a landing on one of the +planets—you saw for yourself that there is at least one suitable for +habitation."</p> + +<p>"Where I will fix the jump drive and continue the voyage to Cassylia. +You will have gained nothing."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," Jason answered in his most noncommittal voice, since he did +not have the slightest intention of continuing the trip, no matter +what Mikah Samon thought.</p> + +<p>His captor had reached the same conclusion. "Put your hand back on the +chair arm," he ordered, and locked the cuff into place again. He +stumbled as the drive started and the ship changed direction. "What +was that?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Emergency control. The ship's computer knows that something drastic +is wrong, so it has taken over. You can override it with the manuals, +but don't bother yet. The ship can do a better job than either of us +with its senses and stored data. It will find the planet we're looking +for, plot a course and get us there with the most economy of time and +fuel. When we get into the atmosphere you can take over and look for a +spot to set down."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe a word you say now," Mikah said grimly. "I'm going to +take control and get a call out on the emergency band. Someone will +hear it." As he started forward the ship lurched again and all the +lights went out. In the darkness flames could be seen flickering +inside the controls. There was a hiss of foam and they vanished. With +a weak flicker the emergency lighting circuit came on.</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't have thrown the Ramon Lull book," Jason said. "The ship +can't stomach it any more than I could."</p> + +<p>"You are irreverent and profane," Mikah said through his clenched +teeth, as he went to the controls. "You attempt to kill us both. You +have no respect for your own life or mine. You're a man who deserves +the worst punishment the law allows."</p> + +<p>"I'm a gambler," Jason laughed. "Not at all as bad as you say. I take +chances—but I only take them when the odds are right. You were +carrying me back to certain death. The worst my wrecking the controls +can do is administer the same end. So I took a chance. There is a +bigger risk factor for you of course, but I'm afraid I didn't take +that into consideration. After all, this entire affair is your idea. +You'll just have to take the consequences of your own actions and not +scold me for them."</p> + +<p>"You're perfectly right," Mikah said quietly. "I should have been more +alert. Now will you tell me what to do to save <i>both</i> our lives. None +of the controls work."</p> + +<p>"None! Did you try the emergency override? The big red switch under +the safety housing."</p> + +<p>"I did. It is dead, too."</p> + +<p>Jason slumped back into the seat. It was a moment before he could +speak. "Read one of your books, Mikah," he said at last. "Seek +consolation in your philosophy. There's nothing we can do. It's all up +to the computer now, and whatever is left of the circuits."</p> + +<p>"Can't we help—repair anything?"</p> + +<p>"Are you a ship technician? I'm not. We would probably do more harm +than good."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It took two ship-days of very erratic flight to reach the planet. A +haze of clouds obscured the atmosphere. They approached from the night +side and no details were visible. Or lights.</p> + +<p>"If there were cities we should see their lights—shouldn't we?" Mikah +asked.</p> + +<p>"Not necessarily. Could be storms. Could be enclosed cities. Could be +only ocean in this hemisphere."</p> + +<p>"Or it could be that there are no people down there. Even if the ship +should get us down safely—what will it matter? We will be trapped for +the rest of our lives on this lost planet at the end of the universe."</p> + +<p>"Don't be so cheerful," Jason interrupted. "How about taking off these +cuffs while we go down. It will probably be a rough landing and I'd +like to have some kind of a chance."</p> + +<p>Mikah frowned at him. "Will you give me your word of honor that you +won't try to escape during the landing?"</p> + +<p>"No. And if I gave it—would you believe it? If you let me go, you +take your chances. Let neither of us think it will be any different."</p> + +<p>"I have my duty to do," Mikah said. Jason remained locked in the +chair.</p> + +<p>They were in the atmosphere, the gentle sighing against the hull +quickly climbed the scale to a shrill scream. The drive cut out and +they were in free fall. Air friction heated the outer hull white-hot +and the interior temperature quickly rose in spite of the cooling +unit.</p> + +<p>"What's happening?" Mikah asked. "You seem to know more about this. +Are we through—going to crash?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe. Could be only one of two things. Either the whole works has +folded up—in which case we are going to be scattered in very small +pieces all over the landscape, or the computer is saving itself for +one last effort. I hope that's it. They build computers smart these +days, all sort of problem-solving circuits. The hull and engines are +in good shape—but the controls spotty and unreliable. In a case like +this a good human pilot would let the ship drop as far and fast as it +could before switching on the drive. Then turn it on full—thirteen +gees or more, whatever he figured the passengers could take on the +couches. The hull would take a beating, but who cares. The control +circuits would be used the shortest amount of time in the simplest +manner."</p> + +<p>"Do you think that's what is happening?" Mikah asked, getting into his +acceleration chair.</p> + +<p>"That's what I <i>hope</i> is happening. Going to unlock the cuffs before +you go to bed? It could be a bad landing and we might want to go +places in a hurry."</p> + +<p>Mikah considered, then took out his gun. "I'll unlock you, but I +intend to shoot if you try anything. Once we are down you will be +locked in again."</p> + +<p>"Thanks for small blessings," Jason said, rubbing his wrists.</p> + +<p>Deceleration jumped on them, kicked the air from their lungs in +uncontrollable gasps, sank them deep into the yielding couches. +Mikah's gun was pressed into his chest, too heavy to lift. It made no +difference, Jason could not stand nor move. He hovered on the border +of consciousness, his vision flickering behind a black and red haze.</p> + +<p>Just as suddenly the pressure was gone.</p> + +<p>They were still falling.</p> + +<p>The drive groaned in the stern of the ship and relays chattered. But +it didn't start again. The two men stared at each other, unmoving, for +the unmeasurable unit of time that the ship fell.</p> + +<p>As the ship dropped it turned and hit at an angle. The end came for +Jason in an engulfing wave of thunder, shock and pain. Sudden impact +pushed him against the restraining straps, burst them with the inertia +of his body, hurled him across the control room. His last conscious +thought was to protect his head. He was lifting his arm when he struck +the wall.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>There is a cold that is so chilling it is a pain not a temperature. +Cold that slices into the flesh before it numbs and kills.</p> + +<p>Jason came to with the sound of his own voice crying hoarsely. The +cold was so great it filled the universe. Cold water he realized as he +coughed it from his mouth and nose. Something was around him and it +took an effort to recognize it as Mikah's arm; he was holding Jason's +face above the surface while he swam. A receding blackness in the +water could only have been the ship, giving off bubbles and groans as +it died. The cold water didn't hurt now and Jason was just relaxing +when he felt something solid under his feet.</p> + +<p>"Stand up and walk, curse you," Mikah gasped hoarsely. "I can't ... +carry you ... can't carry myself...."</p> + +<p>They floundered out of the water, side by side, four-legged crawling +beasts that could not stand erect. Everything had an unreality to it +and Jason found it hard to think. He should not stop, that he was sure +of, but what else could he do? There was a flickering in the darkness, +a wavering light coming towards them. Jason could say nothing, but he +heard Mikah cry out for help.</p> + +<p>Nearer came the light, some kind of a flare or torch, held high. Mikah +pulled to his feet as the flame approached.</p> + +<p>It was a nightmare. It wasn't a man but a thing that held the flare. A +thing of angles, sharp corners, fang-faced and horrible. It had a +clubbed extremity it used to strike down Mikah. The tall man fell +wordlessly and the creature turned towards Jason. He had no strength +to fight with, though he struggled to climb to his feet. His fingers +scratched at the frosted sand, but he could not rise, and exhausted +with this last effort he fell forward face down. Unconsciousness +pulled at his brain but he would not submit. The flickering torchlight +came closer and the scuffle of heavy feet in the sand; he could not +have this horror behind him. With the last of his strength he levered +himself over and lay on his back, staring up at the thing that stood +over him, with the darkness of exhaustion filming his eyes.</p> + + +<h2>IV</h2> +<p>It did not kill him at once, but stood staring down at him, and as +the slow seconds ticked by and Jason was still alive he forced himself +to consider this menace that appeared from the blackness.</p> + +<p>"<i>K'e vi stas el...?</i>" the creature said, and for the first time Jason +realized it was human. The meaning of the question picked at the edge +of his exhausted brain, he felt he could almost understand it, though +he had never heard the language before. He tried to answer but there +was only a hoarse gargle from his throat.</p> + +<p>"<i>Ven k'n torcoy—r'pidu!</i>"</p> + +<p>More lights sprang from the darkness inland and with them the sound of +running feet. As they came closer Jason had a clearer look at the man +above him and could understand why he had mistaken him for some +inhuman creature. His limbs were completely wrapped in lengths of +stained leather, his chest and body protected by thick and overlapping +leather plates covered with blood-red designs. Over his head was +fitted the cochlea shaped shell of some animal, spiraling to a point +in front: two small openings had been drilled in it for eye holes. +Great, finger-long teeth had been set in the lower edge of the shell +to heighten the already fearsome appearance. The only thing at all +human about the creature was the matted and filthy beard that trickled +out of the shell below the teeth. There were too many other details +for Jason to absorb so suddenly; something bulky slung behind one +shoulder, dark objects at the waist, a heavy club reached and prodded +Jason in the ribs, but he was too close to unconsciousness to resist.</p> + +<p>A guttural command halted the torch-bearers a full five meters from +the spot where Jason lay. He wondered vaguely why the armored man had +not let them approach closer since the light from their torches barely +reached this far: everything on this planet seemed inexplicable. For a +few moments Jason must have lost consciousness because when he looked +again the torch was stuck in the sand at his side and the armored man +had one of Jason's boots off and was pulling at the other. Jason could +only writhe feebly but not prevent the theft, for some reason he could +not force his body to follow his will. His sense of time seemed to +have altered as well and though every second dragged heavily by events +occurred with startling rapidity.</p> + +<p>The boots were gone now and the man fumbled at Jason's clothes, +stopping every few seconds to glance up at the row of torch-bearers. +The magnetic seals were alien to him, the sharp teeth sewn into the +leather over his knuckles dug into Jason's flesh as he struggled to +open the seals or to tear the resistant metalcloth. He was growling +with impatience when he accidentally touched the release button on the +medikit and it dropped into his hand. The shining gadget seemed to +please him, but when one of the sharp needles slipped through his +thick hand-coverings and stabbed him he howled with rage, throwing the +machine down, and grinding it into a splintered ruin in the sand. The +loss of this irreplaceable device goaded Jason into motion, he sat up +and was trying to reach the medikit when unconsciousness surged over +him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Sometime before dawn the pain in his head drove him reluctantly back +to awareness. There were some foul-smelling hides draped over him that +retained a little of his body heat. He pulled away the stifling fold +that covered his face and stared up at the stars, cold points of light +that glittered in the frigid night. The air was a stimulant and he +sucked deep gasps of it that burned his throat but seemed to clear his +thoughts. For the first time he realized that his disorientation had +been caused by that crack on the head he had received when the ship +crashed; his exploring fingers found a swollen rawness on his skull. +He must have a brain concussion, that would explain his earlier +inability to move or think straight. The cold air was numbing his face +and he willingly pulled the hairy skin back over his head.</p> + +<p>He wondered what had happened to Mikah Samon after the local thug in +the horror outfit had bashed him with the club. This was a messy and +unexpected end for the man after he had managed to survive the crash +of the ship. Jason had no special affection for the under-nourished +zealot, but he did owe him a life. Mikah had saved him after the +crash, only to be murdered himself by this local assassin. Jason made +a mental note to kill the man just as soon as he was physically up to +it, at the same time he was a little astonished at his reflexive +acceptance of the need for this blood-thirsty atonement of a life for +a life. Apparently his long stay on Pyrrus had trodden down his normal +dislike for killing except in self-defense and from what he had seen +so far of this world the Pyrran training would certainly be most +useful. The sky showed gray through a tear in the hide and he pushed +it back to look at the dawn.</p> + +<p>Mikah Samon lay next to him his head projecting from a covering fur. +He hair was matted and caked with dark blood, but he was still +breathing.</p> + +<p>"Harder to kill than I thought," Jason grunted as he levered himself +painfully up onto one elbow and took a good look at this world where +his spaceship sabotage had landed them.</p> + +<p>It was a grim desert, lumped with huddled bodies like the aftermath of +a battle at world's-end. A few of them were stumbling to their feet, +holding their skins around them, the only signs of life in that +immense waste of gritty sand. On one side a ridge of dunes cut off +sight of the sea, but he could hear the dull boom of waves on the +shore. White frost rimed the ground and the chill wind made his eyes +blink and water. On the top of the dunes a remembered figure suddenly +appeared, the armored man, doing something with what appeared to be +lengths of rope; there was metallic tinkling, suddenly cut off. Mikah +Samon groaned and stirred.</p> + +<p>"How do you feel," Jason asked. "Those are two of the finest +blood-shot eyeballs I have ever seen."</p> + +<p>"Where am I?"</p> + +<p>"Now that is a bright and original question—I didn't pick you for the +type who watched historical spaceopera on the TV. I have no idea where +we are—but I can give you a brief synopsis of how we arrived here, if +you are up to it."</p> + +<p>"I remember we swam ashore, then something evil came from the +darkness, like a demon from hell. We fought...."</p> + +<p>"And he bashed in your head, one quick blow and that was about all the +fight there was. I had a better look at your demon, though I was in no +better condition to fight him than you were. He's a man dressed in a +weird outfit out of an addict's nightmare and appears to be the boss +of this crew of rugged campers. Other than that I have little idea of +what is going on—except that he stole my boots and I'm going to get +then back if I have to kill him for them."</p> + +<p>"Do not lust after material things," Mikah intoned seriously. "And do +not talk of killing a man for material gain. You are evil, Jason, +and.... My boots are gone—and my clothes, too!"</p> + +<p>Mikah had thrown back his covering skins and made this startling +discovery. "Belial!" he roared. "Asmodeus, Abaddon, Apollyon and +Baal-zebub!"</p> + +<p>"Very nice," Jason said admiringly, "you really have been studying up +on your demonology. Were you just listing them—or calling on them for +aid?"</p> + +<p>"Silence, blasphemer! I have been robbed!" He rose to his feet and the +wind whistling around his almost-bare body quickly gave his skin a +light touch of blue. "I am going to find the evil creature that did +this and force him to return what is mine."</p> + +<p>Mikah turned to leave but Jason reached out and grabbed his ankle with +a wrestling grip, twisted it and brought the man thudding to the +ground. The fall dazed him and Jason pulled the skins back over the +raw-boned form.</p> + +<p>"We're even," Jason said. "You saved my life last night, just now I +saved yours. You're bare-handed and wounded—while the old man of the +mountain up there is a walking armory, and anyone with the personality +to wear that kind of an outfit will kill you as easily as he picks his +teeth. So take it easy and try to avoid trouble. There's a way out of +this mess—there's a way out of <i>every</i> mess if you look for it—and +I'm going to find it. In fact I'm going to take a walk right now and +start my research. Agreed?"</p> + +<p>A groan was his only answer since Mikah was unconscious again, fresh +blood seeping from his injured scalp. Jason stood and wrapped his +hides about his body as some protection from the wind, tying the loose +ends together. Then he kicked through the sand until he found a smooth +rock that would fit inside his fist with just the end protruding, and +thus armed made his way out through the stirring forms of the +sleepers.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Mikah was conscious again when Jason returned, and the sun was well +above the horizon. The people were all awake now, a shuffling, +scratching herd of about thirty men, women and children. They were +identical in their filth and crude skin wrappings, milling about with +a random motion or sitting blankly on the ground. They showed no +interest at all in the two strangers. Jason handed a tarred leather +cup to Mikah and squatted next to him.</p> + +<p>"Drink that. It's water, the only thing that anyone here had to drink. +I didn't find any food." He still had the stone in his hand and while +he talked he rubbed it on the sand: the end was moist and red and some +long hairs were stuck in it.</p> + +<p>"I took a good look around this camp, and there's very little more +than you can see from here. Just this crowd of broken down types, a +few bundles rolled in hide, and some of them are carrying skin water +bottles. They have a simple me-stronger pecking order so I pecked a +bit and we can drink. Food comes next."</p> + +<p>"Who are they? What are we doing?" Mikah asked, mumbling a little, +obviously still suffering the after-effects of the blow. Jason looked +at the contused skull, and decided not to touch it. The wound had bled +freely and clotted. Washing it off with the highly dubious water would +accomplish little and might add infection to their other troubles.</p> + +<p>"I'm only sure of one thing," Jason said. "They're slaves. I don't +know why they are here, what they are doing or where they are going, +but their status is painfully clear—ours, too. Old Nasty up there on +the hill is the boss. The rest of us are slaves."</p> + +<p>"Slaves!" Mikah snorted, the word penetrating through the pain in his +head. "It is abominable. The slaves must be freed."</p> + +<p>"No lectures please, and try to be realistic—even if it hurts. There +are only two slaves that need freeing here, you and I. These people +seem nicely adjusted to the <i>status quo</i> and I see no reason to change +it. I'm not starting any abolitionist campaigns until I can see my way +clearly out of this mess, and I probably won't start any then either. +This planet has been going on a long time without me, and will +probably keep rolling along once I'm gone."</p> + +<p>"Coward! You must fight for the Truth and the Truth will make you +free."</p> + +<p>"I can hear those capital letters again," Jason groaned. "The only +thing right now that is going to make me free is me. Which may be bad +poetry, but is still the truth. The situation here is rough but not +unbeatable—so listen and learn. The boss, his name is Ch'aka in case +you care, seems to have gone off on a hunt of some kind. He's not far +away and will be back soon, so I'll try and give you the entire setup +quickly.</p> + +<p>"I thought I recognized the language, and I was right. It's a corrupt +form of Esperanto, the language all the Terido worlds speak. This +altered language plus the fact that these people live about one step +above the stone-age culture is pretty sure evidence that they are cut +off from any contact with the rest of the galaxy, though I hope not. +There may be a trading base somewhere on the planet, and if there is +we'll find it later. We have enough other things to worry about right +now, but at least we can speak the language. These people have +contracted and lost a lot of sounds and even introduced a glottal +stop, something that <i>no</i> language needs, but with a little effort the +meaning can still be made out."</p> + +<p>"I do not speak Esperanto."</p> + +<p>"Then learn it. It's easy enough even in this jumbled form. And shut +up and listen. These locals are born and bred slaves and it is all +they know. There is a little squabbling in the ranks with the bigger +ones pushing the work on the weak ones when Ch'aka isn't looking, but +I have that situation well in hand. Ch'aka is our big problem, and we +have to find out a lot more things before we can tackle him. He is +boss, fighter, father, provider and destiny for this mob, and he seems +to know his job. So try to be a good slave for a while...."</p> + +<p>"Slave! I?" Mikah arched his back and tried to rise. Jason pushed him +back to the ground—harder than was necessary.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you—and me, too. That is the only way we are going to survive +in this arrangement. Do what everyone else does, obey orders, and you +stand a good chance of staying alive until we can find a way out of +this tangle."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Mikah's answer was drowned out in a roar from the dunes as Ch'aka +returned. The slaves climbed quickly to their feet, grabbing up their +bundles, and began to form a single widespaced line. Jason helped +Mikah to stand and wrap strips of skin around his feet then supported +most of his weight as they stumbled to a place in the open formation. +Once they were all in position Ch'aka kicked the nearest one and they +began walking slowly forward looking carefully at the ground as they +went. Jason had no idea of the significance of the action, but as long +as he and Mikah weren't bothered it didn't matter: he had enough work +cut out for him just to keep the wounded man on his feet. Somehow +Mikah managed to dredge up enough strength to keep going.</p> + +<p>One of the slaves pointed down and shouted and the line stopped. He +was too far away for Jason to make out the cause of the excitement, +but the man bent over and scratched a hole with a short length of +pointed wood. In a few seconds he dug up something round and not quite +the size of his hand. He raised it over his head and brought the thing +to Ch'aka at a shambling run. The slavemaster took it and bit off a +chunk, and when the man who had found it turned away he gave him a +lusty kick. The line moved forward again.</p> + +<p>Two more of the mysterious objects were found, both of which Ch'aka +ate as well. Only when his immediate hunger was satisfied did he make +any attempt to be the good provider. When the next one was found he +called over a slave and threw the object into a crudely woven basket +he was carrying on his back. After this the basket-toting slave walked +directly in front of Ch'aka who was carefully watchful that every one +of the things that was dug up went into the basket. Jason wondered +what they were—and they were edible, too, an angry rumbling in his +stomach reminded him.</p> + +<p>The slave next in line to Jason shouted and pointed to the sand. Jason +let Mikah sink to a sitting position when they stopped and watched +with interest as the slave attacked the ground with his piece of wood, +scratching around a tiny sprig of green that projected from the desert +sand. His burrowings uncovered a wrinkled gray object from which the +green leaves were growing, a root or tuber of some kind. It appeared +as edible as a piece of stone to Jason, but obviously not to the slave +who drooled heavily and actually had the temerity to sniff the root. +Ch'aka howled with anger at this and when the slave had dropped the +root into the basket with the others he received a kick so strong that +he had to limp back painfully to his position in the line.</p> + +<p>Soon after this Ch'aka called a halt and the tattered slaves huddled +around while he poked through the basket. He called them over one at a +time and gave them one or more of the roots according to some merit +system of his own. The basket was almost empty when he poked his club +at Jason.</p> + +<p>"<i>K'e nam h'vas vi?</i>" he asked.</p> + +<p>"<i>Mia namo estas Jason, mia amiko estas Mikah.</i>"</p> + +<p>Jason answered in correct Esperanto that Ch'aka seemed to understand +well enough, because he grunted and dug through the contents of the +basket. His masked face stared at them and Jason could feel the impact +of the unseen watching eyes. The club pointed again.</p> + +<p>"Where you come from? That you ship that burn, sink?"</p> + +<p>"That was our ship. We come from far away."</p> + +<p>"From other side of ocean?" This was apparently the largest distance +the slaver could imagine.</p> + +<p>"From the other side of the ocean, correct." Jason was in no mood to +deliver a lecture on astronomy. "When do we eat?"</p> + +<p>"You a rich man in your country, got a ship, got shoes. Now I got your +shoes. You a slave here. My slave. You both my slaves."</p> + +<p>"I'm your slave, I'm your slave," Jason said resignedly. "But even +slaves have to eat. Where's the food?"</p> + +<p>Ch'aka grubbed around in the basket until he found a tiny and withered +root which he broke in half and threw onto the sand in front of Jason.</p> + +<p>"Work hard you get more."</p> + +<p>Jason picked up the pieces and brushed away as much of the dirt as he +could. He handed one to Mikah and took a tentative bite out of the +other one: it was gritty with sand and tasted like slightly rancid +wax. 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 do +until something better came along.</p> + +<p>"What did you talk about?" Mikah asked, grinding his own portion +between his teeth.</p> + +<p>"Just swapping lies. He thinks we're his slaves and I agreed. But it's +just temporary—" Jason added as anger colored Mikah's face and he +started to climb to his feet. Jason pulled him back down. "This is a +strange planet, you're injured, we have no food or water, and no idea +at all how to survive in this place. The only thing we can do to stay +alive is to go along with what Old Ugly there says. If he wants to +call us slaves, fine—we're slaves."</p> + +<p>"Better to die free than to live in chains!"</p> + +<p>"Will you stop the nonsense. Better to live in chains and learn how to +get 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 do +anything until you are out of the walking wounded class."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>For the rest of the day the line of walkers plodded across the sand +and in addition to helping Mikah, Jason found two of the <i>krenoj</i>, the +edible roots. They stopped before dusk and dropped gratefully to the +sand. When the food was divided they received a slightly larger +portion, as evidence perhaps of Jason's attention to the work. Both +men were exhausted and fell asleep as soon as it was dark.</p> + +<p>During the following morning they had their first break from the +walking routine. Their foodsearching always paralleled the unseen sea, +and one slave walked the crest of the dunes that hid the water from +sight. He must have seen something of interest because he leaped down +from the mound and waved both arms wildly. Ch'aka ran heavily to the +dunes and talked with the scout, then booted the man from his +presence.</p> + +<p>Jason watched with growing interest as he unwrapped the bulky package +slung from his back and disclosed an efficient looking crossbow, +cocking it by winding on a built-in crank. This complicated and deadly +piece of machinery seemed very much out of place with the primitive +slave-holding society, and Jason wished that he could get a better +look at the device. Ch'aka fumbled a quarrel from another pouch and +fitted it to the bow. The slaves sat silently on the sand while their +master stalked along the base of the dunes, then wormed his way over +them and out of sight, creeping silently on his stomach. A few minutes +later there was a scream of pain from behind the dunes and all the +slaves jumped to their feet and raced to see. Jason left Mikah where +he lay and was in the first rank of observers that broke over the +hillocks and onto the shore.</p> + +<p>They stopped at the usual distance and shouted compliments about the +quality of the shot and what a mighty hunter Ch'aka was. Jason had to +admit there was a certain truth in the claims. A large, furred +amphibian lay at the water's edge, the fletched end of the crossbow +bolt projecting from its thick neck and a thin stream of blood running +down to mix with the surging waves.</p> + +<p>"Meat! Meat today!"</p> + +<p>"Ch'aka kills the <i>rosmaro</i>! Ch'aka is wonderful!"</p> + +<p>"Hail, Ch'aka, great provider," Jason shouted to get into the swing of +things. "When do we eat?"</p> + +<p>The master ignored his slaves, sitting heavily on the dune until he +regained his breath after the stalk. Then after cocking the crossbow +again he stalked over to the beast and with his knife cut out the +quarrel, notching it against the bowstring still dripping with blood.</p> + +<p>"Get wood for fire," he commanded. "You, Opisweni, you use the knife."</p> + +<p>Shuffling backwards Ch'aka sat down on a hillock and pointed the +crossbow at the slave who approached the kill. Ch'aka had left his +knife in the animal and Opisweni pulled it free and began to +methodically flay and butcher the beast. All the time he worked he +carefully kept his back turned to Ch'aka and the aimed bow.</p> + +<p>"A trusting soul, our slave-driver," Jason mumbled to himself as he +joined the others in searching the shore for driftwood. Ch'aka had all +the weapons as well as a constant fear of assassination. If Opisweni +tried to use the knife for anything other than the intended piece of +work, he would get the crossbow quarrel in the back of his head. Very +efficient.</p> + +<p>Enough driftwood was found to make a sizable fire, and when Jason +returned with his contribution the <i>rosmaro</i> had been hacked into +large chunks. Ch'aka kicked his slaves away from the heap of wood and +produced a small device from another of his sacks. Interested, Jason +pushed as close as he dared, into the front rank of the watching +circle. Though he had never seen one of them before, the operation of +the firemaker was obvious to him. A spring-loaded arm drove a fragment +of stone against a piece of steel, sparks flew out and were caught in +a cup of tinder, where Ch'aka blew on them until they burst into +flame.</p> + +<p>Where had the firelighter and the crossbow come from? They were +evidence of a higher level of culture than that possessed by these +slave-holding nomads. This was the first bit of evidence that Jason +had seen that there might be more to the cultural life of this planet +than they had seen since their landing. Later, while they were gorging +themselves on the seared meat, he drew Mikah aside and pointed this +out.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/image_004.jpg" width="500" height="339" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"There's hope yet. These illiterate thugs never manufactured that +crossbow or firelighter. We must find out where they came from and see +about getting there ourselves. I had a quick look at the quarrel when +Ch'aka pulled it out, and I'll swear that it was turned from steel."</p> + +<p>"This has significance?" Mikah asked, puzzled.</p> + +<p>"It means an industrial society, and possible interstellar contact."</p> + +<p>"Then we must ask Ch'aka where he obtained them and leave at once. +There will be authorities, we will contact them, explain the +situation, obtain transportation to Cassylia. I will not place you +under arrest again until that time."</p> + +<p>"How considerate of you," Jason said, lifting one eyebrow. Mikah was +absolutely impossible, and Jason probed at his moral armor to see if +there were any weak spots. "Won't you feel guilty about bringing me +back to get killed? After all we are companions in trouble—and I did +save your life."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image_005.jpg" width="300" height="446" alt="Ijale" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Ijale</span> +</div> + +<p>"I will grieve, Jason. I can see that though you are evil you are not +completely evil, and given the right training could be fitted for a +useful place in society. But my personal grief must not be allowed to +alter events: you forget that you committed a crime and must pay the +penalty."</p> + +<p>Ch'aka belched cavernously inside his shell-helmet and howled at his +slaves.</p> + +<p>"Enough eating, you pigs. You get fat. Wrap the meat and carry it, we +have light yet to look for <i>krenoj</i>. Move!"</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p>Once more the line was formed and began its slow pace across the +desert. More of the edible roots were found, and once they stopped +briefly to fill the water bags at a spring that bubbled up out of the +sand. The sun dropped towards the horizon and what little warmth it +possessed was absorbed by a bank of clouds. Jason looked around and +shivered—then noticed the line of dots moving on the horizon. He +nudged Mikah who still leaned heavily on him.</p> + +<p>"Looks like company coming. I wonder where they fit into the +program?"</p> + +<p>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, apparently +absorbed in the same task as Jason's group. They plodded forward, +making a slow examination of the sand, followed behind by the solitary +figure of their master. The two lines slowly approached each other, +paralleling the shore.</p> + +<p>Near the dunes was a crude mound of stones and the line of walking +slaves stopped as soon as they reached it, dropping with satisfied +grunts onto the sand. The cairn was obviously a border marker and +Ch'aka walked to it and rested his foot on one of the stones, watching +while the other line of slaves approached. They, too, stopped at the +cairn and settled to the ground: both groups stared with dull-eyed +lack of interest and only the slave-masters showed any animation. The +other master stopped a good ten paces before he reached Ch'aka and +waved an evil looking stone hammer over his head.</p> + +<p>"Hate you, Ch'aka!" he roared.</p> + +<p>"Hate you, Fasimba!" boomed back the answer.</p> + +<p>The exchange was as formal as a <i>pas de deux</i> and just about as +warlike. Both men shook their weapons and shouted a few insults, then +settled down to a quiet conversation. Fasimba was garbed in the same +type of hideous and fear-inspiring outfit as Ch'aka, differing only in +unimportant details. Instead of a conch, his head was encased in the +skull of one of the amphibious <i>rosmaroj</i>, brightened up with some +extra tusks and horns. The differences between the two men were all +minor, and mostly a matter of decoration or variation of weapon +design. They were obviously slave masters and equals.</p> + +<p>"Killed a <i>rosmaro</i> today, second time in ten days," Ch'aka said.</p> + +<p>"You got a good piece coast. Plenty <i>rosmaroj</i>. Where the two slaves +you owe me?"</p> + +<p>"I owe you two slaves?"</p> + +<p>"You owe me two slaves, don't play like stupid. I got the iron arrows +for you from the D'zertanoj, one slave you paid with died. You still +owe other one."</p> + +<p>"I got two slaves for you. I got two slaves more I pulled out of the +ocean."</p> + +<p>"You got a good piece coast."</p> + +<p>Ch'aka walked down his line of slaves until he came to the over-bold +one he had half-crippled with a kick the day before. Pulling him to +his feet he booted him towards the other mob.</p> + +<p>"Here's a good one," he said, delivering the goods with a last parting +kick.</p> + +<p>"Look skinny. Not too good."</p> + +<p>"No, all muscles. Works hard. Doesn't eat much."</p> + +<p>"You're a liar!"</p> + +<p>"Hate you, Fasimba!"</p> + +<p>"Hate you, Ch'aka! Where's the other one?"</p> + +<p>"Got a good one. Stranger from the ocean. He can tell you funny +stories, work hard."</p> + +<p>Jason turned in time to avoid the full force of the kick, but it was +still strong enough to knock him sprawling. Before he could get up +Ch'aka had clutched Mikah Samon by the arm and dragged him across the +invisible line to the other group of slaves. Fasimba stalked over to +examine him, prodding him with a spiked toe.</p> + +<p>"Don't look good. Big hole on the head."</p> + +<p>"He works hard," Ch'aka said. "Hole almost healed. He very strong."</p> + +<p>"You give me new one if he dies?" Fasimba asked doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"I'll give you. Hate you, Fasimba!"</p> + +<p>"Hate you, Ch'aka."</p> + +<p>The slave herds were prodded to their feet and moved back the way they +had come, and Jason shouted after Ch'aka.</p> + +<p>"Wait! Don't sell my friend. We work better together, you can get rid +of someone else...."</p> + +<p>The slaves gaped at this sudden outburst and Ch'aka wheeled raising +his club.</p> + +<p>"You shut up. You're a slave. You tell me once more to do what and I +kill you."</p> + +<p>Jason shut up since it was very obvious that this was the only thing +he could do. He had a few qualms about Mikah's possible fate: if he +survived the wound he was certainly not the type to bow to the +inevitabilities of slave-holding life. Yet Jason had done his best to +save him and that was that. Now Jason would think about Jason for a +while.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They made a brief march before dark, apparently just until the other +slaves were out of sight, then stopped for the night. Jason settled +himself into the lee of a mound that broke the force of the wind a bit +and unwrapped a piece of scorched meat he had salvaged from the +earlier feast. It was tough and oily but far superior to the barely +edible <i>krenoj</i> that made up the greater part of the native diet. He +chewed noisily on the bone and watched while one of the other slaves +sidled over towards him.</p> + +<p>"Give me some your meat?" the slave asked in a whining voice, and only +when she talked did Jason realize that this was a girl; all the slaves +were alike in their matted hair and skin wrappings. He ripped off a +chunk of meat.</p> + +<p>"Here. Sit down and eat it. What's your name?" In exchange for his +generosity he intended to get some information from his captive +audience.</p> + +<p>"Ijale." She tore at the meat, held tightly in one fist, while the +index finger of her free hand scratched for enemies in her tangled +hair.</p> + +<p>"Where do you come from? Did you always live here—like this?" How do +you ask a slave if she has always been a slave?</p> + +<p>"Not here. I come from Bul'wajo first, then Fasimba, now I belong to +Ch'aka."</p> + +<p>"What or who is Bul'wajo? Someone like our boss Ch'aka?" She nodded, +gnawing at the meat. "And the D'zertanoj that Fasimba gets his arrows +from—who are they?"</p> + +<p>"You don't know much," she said, finishing the meat and licking the +grease from her fingers.</p> + +<p>"I know enough to have meat when you don't have any—so don't abuse my +hospitality. Who are the D'zertanoj?"</p> + +<p>"Everyone knows who they are." She shrugged with incomprehension and +looked for a soft spot in the sand to sit down. "They live in the +desert. They go around in <i>caroj</i>. They stink. They have many nice +things. One of them gave me my best thing. If I show it to you, you +won't take it?"</p> + +<p>"No, I won't touch it. But I would like to see anything they have +made. Here, here's some more meat. Now let me see your best thing."</p> + +<p>Ijale rooted in her skins for a hidden pocket and dragged out +something that she concealed in her clenched fist. She held it out +proudly and opened it and there was enough light left for Jason to +make out the rough form of a red glass bead.</p> + +<p>"Isn't this so very nice?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Very nice," Jason agreed, and for an instant felt a touch of real +sorrow when he looked at the pathetic bauble. This girl's ancestors +had come to this planet in spaceships with a knowledge of the most +advanced sciences. Cut off, their children had degenerated into this, +barely conscious slaves, who could pride a worthless piece of glass +above all things.</p> + +<p>"I like you. I'll show you my best thing again."</p> + +<p>"I like you, too. Good night."</p> + + +<h2>V</h2> +<p>Ijale stayed near Jason the next day, and took the next station in +line when the endless <i>krenoj</i> hunt began. Whenever it was possible he +questioned her and before noon had extracted all of her meager +knowledge of affairs beyond the barren coastal plain where they lived. +The ocean was a mystery that produced edible animals, fish and an +occasional human corpse. Ships could be seen from time to time +offshore but nothing was known about them. On the other flank the +territory was bounded by desert even more inhospitable than the one in +which they scratched out their existence, a waste of lifeless sand, +habitable only by the D'zertanoj and their mysterious <i>caroj</i>. These +last could be animals—or mechanical transportation of some kind, +either was possible from Ijale's vague description. Ocean, coast and +desert, these made up all of her world and she could conceive of +nothing that might exist beyond.</p> + +<p>Jason knew there was more, the crossbow was proof enough of that, and +he had every intention of finding out where it came from. In order to +do that he was going to have to change his slave status when the +proper time came. He was developing a certain facility in dodging +Ch'aka's heavy boot, the work was never hard and there was ample food. +Being a slave left him with no responsibilities other than obeying +orders and he had ample opportunity to discover what he could about +this planet, so that when he finally did leave he would be as well +prepared as was possible.</p> + +<p>Later in the day another column of marching slaves was sighted in the +distance, on a course paralleling their own, and Jason expected a +repeat performance of the previous day's meeting. He was agreeably +surprised that it was not. The sight of the others threw Ch'aka into +an immediate rage that sent his slaves rushing for safety in all +directions. By leaping into the air, howling with anger and beating +his club against his thick leather armor he managed to work himself +into quite a state before starting off on a slogging run. Jason, +followed close behind him, greatly interested by this new turn of +affairs. Ahead of them the other slaves scattered and from their midst +burst another armed and armored figure. They churned towards each +other at top speed and Jason hoped for a shattering crash when they +met. However they slowed before they hit and began circling each +other, spitting curses.</p> + +<p>"Hate you, M'shika!"</p> + +<p>"Hate you, Ch'aka!"</p> + +<p>The words were the same, but shouted with fierce meaning, with no +touch of formality this time.</p> + +<p>"Kill you, M'shika! You coming again on my part of the ground with +your carrion-meat slaves!"</p> + +<p>"You lie, Ch'aka—this ground mine from way back."</p> + +<p>"I kill you way back!"</p> + +<p>Ch'aka leaped in as he screamed the words and swung a roundhouse blow +with his club that would have broken the other man in two if it had +connected. But M'shika was expecting this and fell back, swinging a +counter-blow with his own club that Ch'aka easily avoided. There +followed a quick exchange of club-work that did little more than fan +the air, until suddenly both men were locked together and the fight +began in earnest. They rolled together on the ground grunting +savagely, tearing at each other. The heavy clubs were of no use this +close and were dropped in favor of knives and knees: Jason could +understand now why Ch'aka had the long tusks strapped to his kneecaps. +It was a no-holds-barred fight and each man was trying as hard as +possible to kill his opponent. The leather armor made this difficult +and the struggle continued, littering the sand with broken off animal +teeth, discarded weapons and other debris. It looked like it would be +called a draw when both men separated for a breather, but they dived +right back in again.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It was Ch'aka who broke the stalemate when he plunged his dagger into +the ground and on the next roll caught the handle in his mouth. +Holding his opponent's arms in both his hands he plunged his head down +and managed to find a weak spot in the other's armor: M'shika howled +and pulled free and when he climbed to his feet blood was running down +his arm and dripping from his fingertips. Ch'aka jumped after him but +the wounded man grabbed up his club in time to ward off the charge. +Stumbling backward he managed to pick up most of his discarded weapons +with his wounded arm and beat a hasty retreat. Ch'aka ran after him a +short way, shouting praise of his own strength and abilities and of +his opponent's cowardice. Jason saw a short, sharp horn from some sea +animal lying in the churned up sand and quickly picked it up before +Ch'aka turned back.</p> + +<p>Once his enemy had been chased out of sight Ch'aka carefully searched +the battleground and scavenged anything of military value. Though +there was still some hours of daylight left he signaled a halt and +distributed the evening ration of <i>krenoj</i>. Jason sat and chewed his +portion reflectively while Ijale leaned against his side, her shoulder +moving rhythmically as she scratched some hidden mite. Lice were +inescapable, they hid in the crevices of the badly cured hides and +emerged with clicking jaws whenever the warmth of human flesh came +near. Jason had his quota of the pests and found his scratching +keeping time with hers. This syncopation of scratch triggered the +anger that had been building within him, slow and unnoticed.</p> + +<p>"I'm serving notice," he said, jumping to his feet. "I'm through with +this slave business. Which way is the nearest spot in the desert where +I can find the D'zertanoj?"</p> + +<p>"Over there, a two-day walk. How are you going to kill Ch'aka?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to kill Ch'aka, I'm just leaving. I've enjoyed his +hospitality and his boot long enough and feel like striking out for +myself."</p> + +<p>"You can't do that," she gasped. "You will be killed."</p> + +<p>"Ch'aka can't very well kill me if I'm not here."</p> + +<p>"Everybody will kill you. That is the law. Runaway slaves are always +killed."</p> + +<p>Jason sat down again and cracked another chunk from his <i>krenoj</i> and +ruminated over it. "You've talked me into staying a while. But I have +no particular desire now to kill Ch'aka, even though he did steal my +boots. And I don't see how killing him will help me any."</p> + +<p>"You are stupid. After you kill Ch'aka you'll be the new Ch'aka. Then +you can do what you want."</p> + +<p>Of course. Now that he had been told, the social setup appeared +obvious. Because he had seen slaves and slave-holders, Jason had held +the mistaken notion that they were different classes of society, when +in reality there was only one class, what might be called the +dog-eat-dog class. He should have been aware of this when he had seen +how careful Ch'aka was to never allow anyone within striking distance +of him, and how he vanished each night to some hidden spot. This was +free enterprise with a vengeance, carried to its absolute extreme with +every man out for himself, every other man's hand turned against him, +and your station in life determined by the strength of your arm and +the speed of your reflexes. Anyone who stayed alone placed himself +outside this society and was therefore an enemy of it and sure to be +killed on sight. All of which added up to the fact that he had to kill +Ch'aka if he wanted to get ahead. He still had no desire to do it, but +he had to.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>That night he watched Ch'aka when he slipped away from the others and +Jason made a careful note of the direction that he took. Of course the +slave master would circle about before he concealed himself, but with +a little luck Jason would find him. And kill him. He had no special +love of midnight assassination, and until landing on this planet had +always believed that killing a sleeping man was a cowardly way to +terminate another's existence. But special conditions demand special +solutions, and he was no match for the heavily armored man in open +combat, therefore the assassin's knife. Or rather sharpened horn. He +managed to doze fitfully until some time after midnight, then slipped +silently from under his skin coverings. Silently he skirted the +sleepers and crept into the darkness between the dunes.</p> + +<p>Finding Ch'aka in the wilderness of the desert night was not easy, yet +Jason persisted. He made careful sweeps in wider and wider arcs, +working his way out from the sleeping slaves. There were gullies and +shadowed ravines and all of them had to be searched with utmost care. +The slave master was sleeping in one of them and would be alert for +any sound. The fact that he had also made special precautions to guard +against assassination was only apparent to Jason after he heard the +bell ring. It was a tiny sound, barely detectable, but he froze +instantly. There was a thin strand pressing against his arm, and when +he drew back carefully the bell sounded again. He cursed silently for +his stupidity, only remembering now about the bells he had heard from +Ch'aka's sleeping site. The slaver must surround himself every night +with a network of string that would sound alarm bells if anyone +attempted to approach in the dark. Slowly and soundlessly Jason drew +back deeper into the gully.</p> + +<p>With a thud of rushing feet Ch'aka appeared, swinging his club around +his head, coming directly towards Jason. Jason rolled desperately +sideways and the club crashed into the ground, then he was up and +running at top speed down the gully. Rocks twisted under his feet and +he knew that if he tripped he was dead, yet he had no choice other +than flight. The heavily armored Ch'aka could not keep up with him and +Jason managed to stay on his feet until the other was left behind. +Ch'aka shouted with rage and hurled curses after him, but he could not +catch him. Jason, panting for breath, vanished into the darkness and +made a slow circle back to the sleeping camp. The noise would have +roused them and he stayed away for an estimated hour, shivering in the +icy predawn, before he slipped back to his waiting skins. The sky was +beginning to gray and he lay awake wondering if he had been +recognized: he didn't think he had.</p> + +<p>As the red sun climbed over the horizon Ch'aka appeared on top of the +dunes, shaking with rage.</p> + +<p>"Who did it?" he screamed. "Who came in night." He stalked among them, +glaring right and left, and no one stirred except to draw away from +his stamping feet. "Who did it?" he shouted again as he came near the +spot where Jason lay.</p> + +<p>Five slaves pointed silently at Jason.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Cursing their betrayal Jason sprang up and ran from the whistling +club. He had the sharpened horn in his hand but knew better than to +try and stand up to Ch'aka in open combat; there had to be another +way. He looked back quickly to see his enemy still following and +narrowly missed tripping over the outstretched leg of a slave. They +were all against him! They were all against each other and no man was +safe from any other man's hand. He ran free of the slaves and +scrambled to the top of a shifting dune, pulling himself up the steep +slope by clutching at the coarse grass on the summit. He turned at the +top and kicked sand into Ch'aka's face, trying to blind him, but had +to run when the slaver swung down his crossbow and notched a steel +quarrel. Ch'aka chased him again, panting heavily.</p> + +<p>Jason was tiring now and he knew this was the best time to launch a +counterattack. The slaves were out of sight and it would be a battle +only between the two of them. Scrambling up a slope of broken rock he +reversed himself suddenly and leaped back down. Ch'aka was taken by +surprise and had his club only half-raised when Jason was upon him, +and he swung wildly. Jason ducked under the blow and used Ch'aka's +momentum to help throw him as he grabbed the club arm and pulled. Face +down the armored man crashed against the stones and Jason was +straddling his back even as he fell, clutching for his chin. He +lacerated his fingers on a jagged tooth necklace then grasped the +man's thick beard and pulled back. For a single long instant, before +he could writhe free and roll over, Ch'aka's head was stretched back, +and in that instant Jason plunged the sharp horn deep into the soft +flesh of the throat. Hot blood burst over his hand and Ch'aka +shuddered horribly under him and died.</p> + +<p>Jason climbed wearily to his feet, suddenly exhausted. He was alone +with his victim. The cold wind swept about them carrying the rustling +grains of sand, chilling the sweat on his body. Sighing once he wiped +his bloody hands on the sand and began to strip the corpse. Thick +straps held the shell helmet over the dead man's head and when he +unknotted them and pulled it away he saw that Ch'aka was well past +middle age. There was some gray in his beard, but his scraggly hair +was completely gray, his face and balding head pallid white from being +concealed under the helmet. It took a long time to get the wrappings +and armor off and retie them over himself, but it was finally done. +Under the skin and claw wrappings on Ch'aka's feet were Jason's boots, +filthy but undamaged, and Jason drew them on happily. When at last, +after scouring it out with sand, he had strapped on the helmet, Ch'aka +was reborn. The corpse on the sand was just another dead slave. Jason +scraped a shallow grave, interred and covered it. Then, slung about +with weapons, bags and crossbow, the club in his hand, he stalked back +to the waiting slaves. As soon as he appeared they scrambled to their +feet and formed a line. Jason saw Ijale looking at him worriedly, +trying to discover who had won the battle.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image_006.jpg" width="300" height="703" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Score one for the visiting team," he called out, and she gave him a +small, frightened smile and turned away. "About face all and head back +the way we came. There is a new day dawning for you slaves. I know you +don't believe this yet, but there are some big changes in store."</p> + +<p>He whistled while he strolled after the line and chewed happily on the +first <i>krenoj</i> that was found.</p> + + +<p class="p1">VI</p> + +<p>That evening they built a fire on the beach and Jason sat with his +back to the safety of the sea. He took his helmet off, the thing was +giving him a headache, and called Ijale over to him.</p> + +<p>"I hear Ch'aka. I obey."</p> + +<p>She ran hurriedly over to him and flopped onto the sand.</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to you," Jason said. "And my name is Jason, not +Ch'aka."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ch'aka," she said, darting a quick glance at his exposed face, +then turning away. He grumbled and pushed the basket of <i>krenoj</i> over +to her.</p> + +<p>"I can see where it is not going to be an easy thing changing this +social setup. Tell me, do you or any of the others ever have any +desire to be free?"</p> + +<p>"What is free?"</p> + +<p>"Well ... I suppose that answers my question. Free is what you are +when you are not a slave, or a slave owner, free to go where you want +and do what you want."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't like that." She shivered. "Who would take care of me? How +could I find any <i>krenoj</i>? It takes many people together to find +<i>krenoj</i>, one alone would starve."</p> + +<p>"If you are free, you can combine with other free people and look for +<i>krenoj</i> together."</p> + +<p>"That is stupid. Whoever found would eat and not share unless a master +made him. I like to eat."</p> + +<p>Jason rasped his sprouting beard. "We all like to eat, but that +doesn't mean we have to be slaves. But I can see that unless there are +some radical changes in this environment I am not going to have much +luck in freeing anyone, and I had better take all the precautions of a +Ch'aka to see that I can stay alive."</p> + +<p>He picked up his club and stalked off into the darkness, silently +circling the camp until he found a good-sized knoll with smooth sides. +Working by touch he pulled the little pegs from their bag and planted +them in rows, carefully laying the leather strings in their forked +tops. The ends of the strings were fastened to delicately balanced +steel bells that tinkled at the slightest touch. Thus protected he lay +down in the center of his warning spiderweb and spent a restless +night, half awake, waiting tensely for the bells to ring.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>In the morning the march continued and they came to the barrier cairn, +and when the slaves stopped Jason urged them past it. They did this +happily, looking forward to witnessing a good fight for possession of +the violated territory. Their hopes were justified when later in the +day the other row of slaves was seen far off to the right, and a +figure detached itself and ran towards them.</p> + +<p>"Hate you, Ch'aka!" Fasimba shouted as he ran up, only this time he +meant what he said. "Coming on my ground, I kill you!"</p> + +<p>"Not yet," Jason called out. "And hate you, Fasimba, sorry I forgot +the formalities. I don't want any of your land and the old treaty or +whatever it is still holds. I just want to talk to you."</p> + +<p>Fasimba stopped, but kept his stone hammer ready, very suspicious. +"You got new voice, Ch'aka."</p> + +<p>"I got new Ch'aka, old Ch'aka now pushing up the daisies. I want to +trade back a slave from you and then we'll go."</p> + +<p>"Ch'aka fight hard. You must be good fighter Ch'aka." He shook his +hammer angrily. "Not as good as me, Ch'aka!"</p> + +<p>"You're the tops, Fasimba, nine slaves out of ten want you for a +master. Look, can't we get to the point, then I'll get my mob out of +here." He looked at the row of approaching slaves, trying to pick out +Mikah. "I want back the slave who had the hole in his head. I'll give +you two slaves in trade, your choice. What do you say to that?"</p> + +<p>"Good trade, Ch'aka. You pick one of mine, take the best, I'll take +two of yours. But hole-in-head gone. Too much trouble. Talk all the +time. I got sore foot from kicking him. Got rid of him."</p> + +<p>"Did you kill him?"</p> + +<p>"Don't waste slave. Traded him to the D'zertanoj. Got arrows. You want +arrows?"</p> + +<p>"Not this time, Fasimba, but thanks for the information." He rooted +around in a pouch and pulled out a <i>krenoj</i>. "Here, have something to +eat."</p> + +<p>"Where you get poisoned <i>krenoj</i>?" Fasimba asked with interest. "I +could use a poisoned <i>krenoj</i>."</p> + +<p>"This isn't poisoned, it's perfectly edible, or at least as edible as +these things ever are."</p> + +<p>Fasimba laughed. "You pretty funny, Ch'aka. I give you one arrow for +poisoned <i>krenoj</i>."</p> + +<p>"You're on," Jason said throwing the <i>krenoj</i> to the ground between +them. "But I tell you it is perfectly good."</p> + +<p>"That's what I tell man I give it to. I got good use for a poisoned +<i>krenoj</i>." He threw an arrow into the sand away from them and grabbed +up the vegetable as he left.</p> + +<p>When Jason picked up the arrow it bent, and he saw that it was rusted +almost completely in two and that the break had been craftily covered +by clay. "That's all right," he called after the retreating slaver, +"just wait until your friend eats the <i>krenoj</i>."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The march continued, first back to the boundary cairn with the +suspicious Fasimba dogging their steps. Only after Jason and his band +had passed the border did the others return to their normal foraging. +Then began the long walk to the borders of the inland desert. Since +they had to search for <i>krenoj</i> as they went it took them the better +part of three days to reach their destination. Jason merely started +the line in the correct direction, but as soon as he was out of sight +of the sea he had only a rough idea of the correct course, however he +did not confide his ignorance to the slaves and they marched steadily +on, along what was obviously a well-known route to them. Along the way +they collected and consumed a good number of <i>krenoj</i>, found two wells +from which they refilled the skin bags, and pointed out a huddled +animal sitting by a hole that Jason, to their un-voiced disgust, +managed to miss completely with a bolt from the crossbow.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the third day Jason saw a line of demarcation on the +flattened horizon and before the midday meal they came to a sea of +billowing, bluish-gray sand. The ending of what he had been accustomed +to thinking of as the desert was startling. Beneath their feet were +yellow sand and gravel, while occasional shrubs managed a sickly +existence as did some grass and the life-giving <i>krenoj</i>. Animals as +well as men lived here and, ruthless though survival was, they were at +least alive. In the wastes ahead no life was possible or visible, +though there seemed to be no doubt that the D'zertanoj lived there. +This must mean that though it looked unlimited—as Ijale believed it +to be—there were probably arable lands on the other side. Mountains +as well, if they weren't just clouds, since a line of gray peaks could +just be made out on the distant horizon.</p> + +<p>"Where do we find the D'zertanoj?" he asked the nearest slave who +merely scowled and looked away. Jason was having a problem with +discipline. The slaves would not do a thing he asked unless he kicked +them. Their conditioning had been so thorough that an order +unaccompanied by a kick just wasn't an order and his continued +reluctance to impose the physical coercion with the spoken command was +just being taken as a sign of weakness. Already some of the burlier +slaves were licking their lips and sizing him up. His efforts to +improve the life of the slaves were being blocked completely by the +slaves themselves. With a mumbled curse at the continued obduracy of +the human race Jason sank the toe of his boot into the man.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image_007.jpg" width="300" height="489" alt="Edipon" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Edipon</span> +</div> + +<p>"Find them there by big rock," was the immediate response.</p> + +<p>There was a dark spot at the desert's edge in the indicated direction +and when they approached Jason saw that it was an outcropping of rock +that had been built up with a wall of bricks or boulders to a uniform +height. A good number of men could be concealed behind that wall and +he was not going to risk his precious slaves or even more precious +skin anywhere near it. At his shout the line halted and settled to the +sand while he stalked a few meters in front, settling his club in his +hand and suspiciously examined the structure.</p> + +<p>That there were unseen watchers was proven when a man appeared from +around the corner and walked slowly towards Jason. He was dressed in +loose-fitting robes and carried a basket on one arm, and when he had +reached a point roughly halfway between Jason and the rock he had just +quitted he halted and sat crosslegged in the sand, the basket at his +side. Jason looked carefully in all directions and decided the +position was safe enough. There were no places of concealment where +armed men might have hidden and he had no fear of the single man. Club +ready he walked out and stopped a full three paces from the other.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p>"Welcome, Ch'aka," the man said. "I was afraid we wouldn't be seeing +you again after that little ... difficulty we had."</p> + +<p>He remained seated while he talked, stroking the few strands of his +scraggly beard. His head was shaven smooth and as sunburned and +leathery brown as the rest of his face, the most prominent feature of +which was the magnificent prow of a nose that terminated in flaring +nostrils and was used as sturdy support for a pair of handmade +sunglasses. They appeared to be carved completely of bone and fit +tightly to the face, their flat, solid fronts were cut with thin +transverse slashes. This eye protection, the things could only have +been for weak eyes, and the network of wrinkles indicated the man was +quite old and would present no danger to Jason.</p> + +<p>"I want something," Jason said, in straightforward, Ch'akaish manner.</p> + +<p>"A new voice and a new Ch'aka—I bid you welcome. The old one was a +dog and I hope he died in great pain when you killed him. Now sit +friend Ch'aka and drink with me." He carefully opened the basket and +removed a stone crock and two crockery mugs.</p> + +<p>"Where you get poison drink?" Jason asked, remembering his local +manners. This <i>D'zertano</i> was a smart one and had been able to tell +instantly from Jason's voice that there had been a change in slaves. +"And what your name?"</p> + +<p>"Edipon," the ancient said as, uninsulted, he put the drinking +apparatus back into the basket. "What is it that you want—within +reason that is? We always need slaves and we are always willing to +trade."</p> + +<p>"I want slave you got. I trade you two for one."</p> + +<p>The seated man smiled coldly from behind the shelter of his nose. "It +is not necessary to talk as ungrammatically as the coastal barbarians, +since I can tell by your accent that you are a man of education. What +slave is it that you want?"</p> + +<p>"The one that you just received from Fasimba. He belongs to me." Jason +abandoned his linguistic ruse and put himself even more on guard, +taking a quick look around at the empty sands. This dried up old bird +was a lot brighter than he looked and he would have to stay on guard.</p> + +<p>"Is that all you want?" Edipon asked.</p> + +<p>"All I can think of at this moment. You produce this slave and perhaps +we can talk more business."</p> + +<p>"I have an even better idea than that."</p> + +<p>Edipon's laugh had very dirty overtones and Jason sprang back when the +oldster put two fingers into his mouth and whistled shrilly between +them. There was the rustle of shifting sand and Jason wheeled to see +men apparently climbing out of the empty desert, pushing back wooden +covers over which the sand had been smoothed. There were six of them, +with shields and clubs, and Jason cursed his stupidity at meeting +Edipon on a spot of the other's choosing. He swung his club behind him +but the oldster was already scampering for the safety of the rock. +Jason howled in anger and ran at the nearest man who was still only +halfway out of his hiding place. The man took Jason's blow on his +upraised shield and was toppled back into the pit by the force of it. +Jason ran on but another was ahead of him, swinging his own war club +in readiness. There was no way around so Jason ran into him at full +speed with all of his pendant teeth and horns gnashing and clattering. +The man fell back under the attack and Jason split his shield with his +club, and would have done further damage except that the other men +arrived at that moment and he had to face them.</p> + +<p>It was a brief and wicked battle, with Jason giving just a little more +than he received. Two of the attackers were down and a third holding +his cracked head when the weight of numbers carried Jason to the +ground. He called to his slaves for aid, then cursed them when they +only remained seated, while his arms were pinioned with rope and his +weapons stripped from his body. One of the victors waved to the slaves +who now stood and docilely marched into the desert. Jason was dragged, +snarling with rage, in the same direction.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>There was a wide opening in the desert-facing side of the wall and +once through it Jason's anger instantly vanished. Here was one of the +<i>caroj</i> that Ijale had told him about: there could be no doubt of it. +He could now understand how, to her uneducated eye, there could exist +an uncertainty as to whether the thing was an animal or not. The +vehicle was a good ten meters long, shaped roughly like a boat, and +bore on the front a large and obviously false animal head covered with +fur and resplendent with rows of carved teeth and glistening crystal +eyes. There were hide coverings and not-too realistic legs hanging +about the thing, surely not enough camouflage to fool a sophisticated +six-year old.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_008.jpg" width="600" height="278" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>This sort of disguise might be good enough to take in the ignorant +savages, but the same civilized child would recognize this as a +vehicle as soon as he saw the six large wheels below. They were cut +with deep treads and made from some resilient looking substance. No +motive power was visible, but Jason almost hooted with joy at the +prominent stink of burnt fuel. This crude looking contrivance had some +artificial source of power, which might be the product of a local +industrial revolution or have been purchased from off-world traders. +Either possibility offered the chance of eventual escape from this +nameless planet.</p> + +<p>The slaves, some of them cringing with terror of the unknown, were +kicked up the gangplank and into the <i>caroj</i>. Four of the huskies who +had subdued and bound Jason carried him up and dumped him onto the +deck where he lay quietly and examined what could be seen of the +desert-vehicle's mechanism. A post projected from the front of the +deck and one of the men fitted what could only have been a tiller +handle over the squared top of it. If this monolithic apparatus +steered with the front pair of wheels it must be driven with the rear, +so Jason flopped around on the deck until he could look towards the +stern. A cabin, the width of the deck, was situated here, windowless +and with a single inset door fitted with a grand selection of locks +and bolts. Any doubt that this was the engine room was displaced by +the black metal smokestack that rose up through the cabin roof.</p> + +<p>"We are leaving," Edipon screeched and waved his thin arms in the air. +"Bring in the entranceway. Narsisi stand forward to indicate the way +to the <i>caroj</i>. Now—all pray as I go into the shrine to induce the +sacred powers to move us towards Putl'ko." He started towards the +cabin, then stopped to point to one of the club bearers. "Erebo you +lazy sod, did you remember to fill the watercup of the gods this time, +because they grow thirsty?"</p> + +<p>"I filled it, I filled it," Erebo muttered, chewing on a looted +<i>krenoj</i>.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Preparations made, Edipon went into the recessed doorway and pulled a +concealing curtain over it. There was much clanking and rattling as +the locks and bolts were opened and he let himself inside. Within a +few minutes a black cloud of greasy smoke rolled out of the smokestack +and was whipped away by the wind. Almost an hour passed before the +sacred powers were ready to move, and they announced their willingness +to proceed by screaming and blowing their white breath up in the air. +Four of the slaves screamed counterpoint and fainted, while the rest +looked as if they would be happier off dead. Jason had had some +experience with primitive machines before so the safety valve on the +boiler came as no great surprise. He was also prepared when the +vehicle shuddered and began to move slowly out into the desert. From +the amount of smoke and the quantity of steam escaping from under the +stern he didn't think the engine was very efficient, but primitive as +it was it moved the <i>caroj</i> and its load of passengers across the sand +at a creeping yet steady pace.</p> + +<p>There were more screams from the slaves, and a few tried to leap over +the side but were clubbed down. The robe-wrapped D'zertanoj were +firmly working their way through the ranks of the captives, pouring +ladlefuls of dark liquid down their throats. The first ones to receive +it were already slumped unconscious or dead, though the chances were +better that they were unconscious since there was no reason for their +captors to kill them after going to such lengths to get them in the +first place. Jason believed this, but the terrified slaves did not +have the solace of his philosophy so struggled on, thinking that they +were fighting for their lives. When Jason's turn came he did not +submit meekly, in spite of his beliefs, and managed to bite some +fingers and kick one man in the stomach before they sat on him, held +his 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.</p> + + +<h2>VII</h2> +<p>"Drink some more of this," the voice said, and cold water splashed on +Jason's face and some of it trickled down his throat making him cough. +Something hard was pressing into his back and his wrists hurt. Memory +seeped back slowly, the fight, the capture and the potion that had +been forced upon him. When he opened his eyes he saw a flickering +yellow lamp overhead, hung from a chain. He blinked at it and tried to +gather enough energy to sit up. A familiar face swam in front of the +light and Jason squinted his eyes at it and groaned.</p> + +<p>"Is that you Mikah—or are you just part of a nightmare?"</p> + +<p>"There is no escape from justice, Jason. It is I, and I have some +grave questions to put to you."</p> + +<p>Jason groaned again. "You're real all right. Even in a nightmare I +wouldn'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 should +know something since you have been a slave of the D'zertanoj longer +than I have." Jason realized that the pain in his wrists came from +heavy iron shackles. A chain passed through them and was stapled to a +thick wooden bar on which his head had been resting. "Why the +chains—and what is the local hospitality like?"</p> + +<p>Mikah resisted the invitation to impart any vital information and +returned irresistibly to his own topic.</p> + +<p>"When I saw you last you were a slave of Ch'aka, and tonight you were +brought in with the other slaves of Ch'aka and chained to the bar +while you were unconscious. There was an empty place next to mine and +I 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 saw +that you were wearing the armor and helmet of Ch'aka. Where is the +man—what happened to him?"</p> + +<p>"Me Ch'aka," Jason rasped, and burst out coughing from the dryness in his +throat. He took a long drink of water from the bowl. "You sound very +vindictive, Mikah you old fraud. Where is all the turn-the-other-cheek +stuff now? Don't tell me you could possibly hate the man just because he +hit you on the head, fractured your skull and sold you down the river as a +slave reject? In case you have been brooding over this injustice you can +now be cheered because the evil Ch'aka is no more. He is buried in the +trackless wastes and after all the applicants were sifted out I got the +job."</p> + +<p>"You killed him?"</p> + +<p>"In a word—yes. And don't think that it was easy since he had all the +advantages and I possessed only my native ingenuity, which luckily +proved to be enough. It was touch and go for a while because when I +tried to assassinate him in his sleep—"</p> + +<p>"You <i>what</i>?" Mikah Samon hissed.</p> + +<p>"Got to him at night. You don't think anyone in his right mind would +tackle a monster like that face-to-face do you? Though it ended up +that way, since he had some neat gadgets for keeping track of people +in the dark. Briefly, we fought, I won, I became Ch'aka, though my +reign was neither long nor noble. I followed you as far as the desert +where I was neatly trapped by a shrewd old bird name of Edipon who +demoted me back to the ranks and took away all my slaves as well. Now +that's my story. So tell me yours, where we are, what goes on here?"</p> + +<p>"Assassin! Slave holder!" Mikah reared back, as far as he could under +the restraint of the chain, and pointed the finger of judgment at +Jason. "Two more charges must be added to your role of infamy. I +sicken myself, Jason, that I could ever have felt sympathy for you and +tried to help you. I will still help you, but only to stay alive so +that you may be taken back to Cassylia for trial and execution."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_009.jpg" width="600" height="373" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"I like that example of fair and impartial justice—trial <i>and</i> +execution." Jason coughed again and drained the bowl of water. "Didn't +you ever hear of presumed innocence until proven guilty? It only +happens to be the mainstay of all jurisprudence. And how could you +possibly justify trying me on Cassylia for actions that occurred on +this planet—that aren't crimes here? That's like taking a cannibal +away from his tribe and executing him for anthropophagy."</p> + +<p>"What would be wrong with that? The eating of human flesh is a crime +so loathsome I shudder to think of it. Of course a man who does that +must be executed."</p> + +<p>"If he slips in the back door and eats one of your relatives, you +certainly have grounds for action. But not if he joins the rest of his +jolly tribe for a good roast of enemy. Don't you see the obvious point +here—that human conduct can only be judged in relation to its +environment? Conduct is relative. The cannibal in his society is just +as moral as the churchgoer in yours."</p> + +<p>"Blasphemer! A crime is a crime! There are moral laws that stand above +all human society."</p> + +<p>"Oh no there are not, that's just the point where your medieval +morality breaks down. All laws and ideas are historical and relative, +not absolute. They are relevant to their particular time and place and +taken out of context they lose their importance. Within the context of +this grubby society I acted in a most straightforward and honest +manner. I attempted to assassinate my master—which is the only way an +ambitious boy can get ahead in this hard world, and which was +undoubtedly the way Ch'aka himself got the job in the first place. +Assassination didn't work but combat did, and the results were the +same. Once in power I took good care of my slaves, though of course +they didn't appreciate it since they didn't want good care, they only +wanted my job, that being the law of the land. The only thing I really +did wrong was to not live up to my obligations as a slave holder and +keep them marching up and down the beaches forever. Instead I came +looking for you and was trapped and broken back to slavery where I +belong for pulling such a stupid trick."</p> + +<p>The door crashed open and harsh sunlight streamed into the windowless +building. "On your feet slaves!" a D'zertano shouted in through the +opening.</p> + +<p>A chorus of shufflings and groans broke out as the men stirred to +life. Jason could see now that he was one of twenty slaves shackled to +the long bar, apparently the entire trunk of a good-sized tree. The +man chained at the far end seemed to be a leader of sorts because he +cursed and goaded the others to life. When they were all standing he +snapped his commands in a hectoring tone of voice.</p> + +<p>"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 drink +all 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 for +all you men, specially you new men. Give them a day's work here and +they give you a day's food...."</p> + +<p>"Oh shut up!" someone shouted.</p> + +<p>"... And you can't complain about that," the strawboss whined on, +unperturbed. "Now altogether ... <i>one</i> ... bend down and get your +hands around the bar, get a good grip and ... <i>two</i> ... lift it clear +of the ground, that's the way. And ... <i>three</i> ... stand up and out +the door we go."</p> + +<p>They shuffled out into the sunlight and the cold wind of dawn bit +through his Pyrran coverall and the remnants of Ch'aka's leather +trappings that Jason had been allowed to keep. His captors had torn +off the claw-studded feet but not bothered the wrappings underneath, +so they hadn't found his boots. This was the only bright spot on an +otherwise unlimited vista of blackest gloom. Jason tried to be +thankful for small blessings, but only shivered some more. As soon as +possible this situation had to be changed since he had already served +his term as slave on this backwoods planet and was cut out for better +things.</p> + +<p>On order the slaves lined up against the walls of the yard. Presenting +their bowls like scruffy penitents they accepted dippers of lukewarm +soup from another slave who pushed along a wheeled tub of the stuff: +he was chained to the tub. Jason's appetite vanished when he tasted +the sludge. It was <i>krenoj</i> soup, and the desert tubers tasted even +worse—he hadn't thought it was possible—when served up in a broth. +But survival was more important than fastidiousness, so he gulped the +evil stuff down.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Breakfast over they marched out the gate into another compound and +fascinated interest displaced all of Jason's concerns. In the center +of the yard was a large capstan into which the first group of slaves +were already fitting the end of their bar. Jason's group, and the two +others, shuffled into position and seated their bars, making a four +spoked wheel out of the capstan. An overseer shouted and the slaves +groaned and threw their weight against the bars until they shuddered +and began to turn, then trudging slowly they kept the wheel moving. +Once this slogging labor was under way Jason turned his attention to +the crude mechanism that they were powering.</p> + +<p>A vertical shaft from the capstan turned a creaking wooden wheel that +set a series of leather belts into motion. Some of them vanished +through openings into a large stone building, while the strongest +strap of all turned the rocker arm of what could only be a +counterbalanced pump. This all seemed like a highly inefficient way to +go about pumping water since there certainly must be natural springs +and lakes somewhere around. The pungent smell that filled the yard was +hauntingly familiar, and Jason had just reached the conclusion that +water couldn't be the object of their labors when a throaty gurgling +came from the standpipe of the pump and a thick black stream bubbled +out.</p> + +<p>"Petroleum—of course!" Jason enthused out loud, then bent his +attentions to pushing when the overseer gave him an ugly look and +cracked his whip menacingly.</p> + +<p>This was the secret of the D'zertanoj, and the source of their power. +Mountains were visible nearby, and hills, towering above the +surrounding walls. The captured slaves had been drugged so they would +not even know in which direction they had been brought to this hidden +site, or how long the trip was. Here in this guarded valley they +labored to pump the crude oil that their masters used to power their +big desert wagons. Or did they use crude oil for this? The petroleum +was gurgling out in a solid stream now, and running down an open +trough that vanished through the wall into the same building as the +turning belts. And what barbaric devilishness went on in there? A +thick chimney crowned the building and produced clouds of black smoke, +while from the various openings in the wall came a tremendous stench +that threatened to lift the top off his head.</p> + +<p>At the same moment that he realized what was going on in the building +a guarded door was opened and Edipon came out, blowing his sizable +nose in a scrap of rag. The creaking wheel turned and when its +rotation brought Jason around again he called out to him.</p> + +<p>"Hey, Edipon, come over here. I want to talk to you. I'm the former +Ch'aka, in case you don't recognize me out of uniform."</p> + +<p>Edipon gave him one look, then turned away dabbing at his nose. It was +obvious that slaves held no interest for him, no matter what their +position had been before their fall. The slave-driver ran over with a +roar, raising his whip, while the slow rotation of the wheel carried +Jason away. He shouted back over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me—I know a lot and can help you." Only a turned back for +an answer and the whip was already whistling down. It was time for the +hard sell. "You had better hear me—because I know that <i>what comes +out first is best</i>. Yeow!" This last was involuntary as the whip +landed.</p> + +<p>Jason's words were without meaning to the slaves as well as the +overseer who was raising his whip for another blow, but their impact +on Edipon was as dramatic as if he had stepped on a hot coal. He +shuddered to a halt and wheeled about, and even at this distance Jason +could see that a sickly gray tone had replaced his normal browned +color of his skin.</p> + +<p>"<i>Stop the wheel!</i>" he shouted.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>This unexpected command drew the startled attention of everyone. The +gape-mouthed overseer lowered his whip while the slaves stumbled and +halted and the wheel groaned to a stop. In the sudden silence Edipon's +steps 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 prepared +to bite.</p> + +<p>"What was that you said?" He hurled the words at Jason while his +fingers half-plucked a knife from his belt.</p> + +<p>Jason smiled, looking and acting calmer than he felt. His barb had +gone home, but unless he proceeded carefully so would Edipon's +knife—into his stomach. This was obviously a very sensitive topic.</p> + +<p>"You heard what I said—and I don't think you want me to repeat it in +front of all these strangers. I know what happens here because I come +from a place far away where we do this kind of thing all the time. I +can help you. I can show you how to get more of the best, and how to +make your <i>caroj</i> work better. Just try me. Only unchain me from this +bar first and let's get to some place private where we can have a nice +chat."</p> + +<p>Edipon's thoughts were obvious. He chewed his lip and looked hotly at +Jason, fingering the edge of his knife. Jason only returned a smile of +pure innocence and tapped his fingers happily on the bar, just marking +time while he waited to be released. Yet in spite of the cold there +was a rivulet of sweat trickling down his spine. He was gambling +everything on Edipon's intelligence, that the man's curiosity would +overcome the immediate desire to silence the slave who knew so much +about things so secret, hoping that he would remember that slaves +could always be killed, and that it wouldn't hurt to ask a few +questions first. Curiosity won and the knife dropped back into the +sheath while Jason let his breath out in a relieved sigh. It had been +entirely too close, even for a professional gambler; his own life on +the board was a little higher stakes than he enjoyed playing for.</p> + +<p>"Release him from the bar and bring him to me," Edipon ordered, then +strode agitatedly away. The other slaves watched wide-eyed as the +blacksmith was rushed out, and with much confusion and shouted orders +Jason's chain was cut from the bar where it joined the heavy staple.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?" Mikah asked, and one of the guards backhanded +him to the ground. Jason just smiled and touched his finger to his +lips as his chain was released and they led him away. He was free from +bondage and he would stay that way if he could convince Edipon that he +would be better off in some capacity other than dumb labor.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The room they led him to contained the first touches of decoration or +self-indulgence that he had seen on this planet. The furniture was +carefully constructed, with an occasional bit of carving to brighten +it, and there was a woven cover on the bed. Edipon stood by a table, +tapping his fingers nervously on the dark polished surface. "Lock him +up," he ordered the guards, and Jason was secured to a sturdy ringbolt +that projected from the wall. As soon as the guards were gone he stood +before Jason and drew his knife. "Tell me what you know or I will kill +you at once."</p> + +<p>"My past is an open book to you, Edipon. I come from a land where we +know all the secrets of nature—"</p> + +<p>"What is the name of this land? Are you a spy from Appsala?"</p> + +<p>"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 Edipon +was, and just how frank he could be with him. This was no time to get +tangled up in lies about planetary geography: it might be best to try +him on a small dose of the truth. "If I told you I came from another +planet, another world in the sky up among the stars, would you believe +me?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. There are many old legends that our forefathers came from a +world beyond the sky, but I have always dismissed this as religious +drivel, fit only for women."</p> + +<p>"In this case the girls happen to be right. Your planet was settled by +men whose ships crossed the emptiness of space as your <i>caroj</i> pass +over the desert. Your people have forgotten about that and lost the +science and knowledge you once had, but in other worlds the knowledge +is still held."</p> + +<p>"Madness!"</p> + +<p>"Not at all, it is science, though many times confused as being the +same thing. I'll prove my point. You know that I could never have been +inside your mysterious building out there, and I imagine you can be +sure no one has told me its secrets. Yet I'll bet you that I can +describe fairly accurately what is in there—not from seeing the +machinery, but from knowing what must be done to oil in order to get +the products you need. Do you want to hear?"</p> + +<p>"Proceed," Edipon said, sitting on a corner of the table and balancing +the knife loosely in his palm.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you call it, the device, but in the trade it is a +pot still used for fractional distillation. Your crude oil runs into a +tank of some kind, and you pipe it from there to a retort, some big +vessel that you can seal airtight. Once it is closed you light a fire +under the thing and try to get all the oil to an even temperature. A +gas rises from the oil and you take it off through a pipe and run it +through 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 it +drips the juice that you burn in your <i>caroj</i> to make them move."</p> + +<p>Edipon's eyes opened wider and wider while Jason talked until they +stuck out of his head like boiled eggs. "Demon!" he screeched and +tottered towards Jason with the knife extended. "You couldn't have +seen, not through stone walls, yet only my family have seen, no +others—I'll swear to that!"</p> + +<p>"Keep cool, Edipon, I told you that we have been doing this stuff for +years in my country." He balanced on one foot, ready for a kick at the +knife in case the old man's nerves did not settle down. "I'm not out +to steal your secrets, in fact they are pretty small potatoes where I +come from since every farmer has a still for cooking up his own mash +and saving on taxes. I'll bet I can even put in some improvements for +you, sight unseen. How do you monitor the temperature on your cooking +brew? Do you have thermometers?"</p> + +<p>"What are thermometers?" Edipon asked, forgetting the knife for the +moment, drawn on by the joys of a technical discussion.</p> + +<p>"That's what I thought. I can see where your bootleg joyjuice is going +to take a big jump in quality, if you have anyone here who can do some +simple glassblowing. Though it might be easier to rig up a coiled +bi-metallic strip. You're trying to boil off your various fractions, +and unless you keep an even and controlled temperature you are going +to have a mixed brew. The thing you want for your engines are the most +volatile fractions, the liquids that boil off first like gasoline and +benzene. After that you raise the temperature and collect kerosene for +your lamps and so forth right on down the line until you have a nice +mass of tar left to pave your roads with. How does that sound to you?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Edipon had forced himself into calmness, though a jumping muscle in +his cheek betrayed his inner tension. "What you have described is the +truth, though you were wrong on some small things. But I am not +interested in your thermometer nor in improving our water-of-power, it +has been good enough for my family for generations and it is good +enough for me...."</p> + +<p>"I bet you think that line is original?"</p> + +<p>"... There is something that you might be able to do that would bring +you rich rewards. We can be generous when needs be. You have seen our +<i>caroj</i> and ridden on one, and seen me go into the shrine to intercede +with the sacred powers to make us move. Can you tell me what power +moves the <i>caroj</i>?"</p> + +<p>"I hope this is the final exam, Edipon, because you are stretching my +powers of extrapolation. Stripping away all the <i>shrines</i> and <i>sacred +powers</i> I would say that you go into the engine room to do a piece of +work with very little praying involved. There could be a number of +ways of moving those barns, but let's think of the simplest. This is +top of the head now, so no penalties if I miss any of the fine points.</p> + +<p>"Internal combustion is out, I doubt if you have the technology to +handle it, plus the fact there was a lot to do about the water tank +and it took you almost an hour to get under way. That sounds like you +were getting up a head of steam—the safety valve! I forgot about +that. So it is steam. You go in, lock the door of course, then open a +couple of valves until the fuel drips into the firebox, then you light +it. Maybe you have a pressure gauge, or maybe you just wait until the +safety valve pops to tell you if you have a head of steam. Which can +be dangerous since a sticking valve could blow the whole works right +over the mountain.</p> + +<p>"Once you have the steam you crack a valve to let it into the +cylinders and get the thing moving. After that you just enjoy the +trip, of course making sure the water is feeding to your boiler all +right, that your pressure stays up, your fire is hot enough, all your +bearings are lubricated and the rest...."</p> + +<p>Jason looked on astounded as Edipon did a little jig around the room, +holding his robe up above his bony knees. Bouncing with excitement he +jabbed his knife into the table top and rushed over to Jason and +grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him until his chain rattled.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what you have done?" he asked. "Do you know what you have +said?"</p> + +<p>"I know well enough. Does this mean that I have passed the exam? Was I +right?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know if you are right or not. I have never seen the inside of +one of the Appsalan devil-boxes." He danced around the room again. +"You know more about their ... what do you call it, <i>engine</i> ... than +I do. I have only spent my life tending them and cursing the people +of 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 they +will have to pay dearly for it."</p> + +<p>"Would you mind being a little bit clearer," Jason pleaded. "I have +never heard anything so confused in my entire life."</p> + +<p>"I will show you, man from a far world, and you will reveal the +Appsalan secrets to us. I see the dawn of a new day for Putl'ko +arriving." He opened the door and shouted for the guards, and for his +son, Narsisi, who arrived as they were unlocking Jason who recognized +him as the same droop-eyed and sleepy looking D'zertano who had been +helping Edipon to drive their ungainly vehicle.</p> + +<p>"Seize this chain my son and keep your club ready to kill this slave +if he makes any attempt to escape. Otherwise do not harm him, for he +is very valuable. Come."</p> + +<p>He tugged on the chain, but Jason only dug his heels in and did not +move. They looked at him, astonished.</p> + +<p>"Just a few things before we go. The man who is to bring the new day +to Putl'ko is not a slave, let us get that straight before this +operation goes any further. We'll work out something with chains or +guards so I can't escape, but the slavery thing is out."</p> + +<p>"But—you are not one of us, therefore you must be a slave."</p> + +<p>"I've just added a third category to your social order. Employee. +Though reluctant, I am still an employee, skilled labor, and I intend +to be treated that way. Figure it out for yourself. Kill a slave and +what do you lose? Very little if there is another slave in the pens +that 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."</p> + +<p>"Say, Dad, does he mean I can't kill him?" Narsisi looked puzzled as +well as sleepy.</p> + +<p>"No, he doesn't mean that. He means if we kill him there is no one +else that can do the work he is to do for us. I can understand him and +I do not like it. There are only slaves and slavers, anything else is +against the natural order. But he has us trapped between <i>satano</i> and +the sand-storm so we must allow him some freedoms. Bring the slave now +... I mean the employee ... and we will see if he can do the things he +has promised. If he does not, <i>I</i> will have the pleasure of killing +him because I do not like his revolutionary ideas."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They marched single file to a locked and guarded building with immense +doors, which were pulled open to reveal the massive forms of seven +<i>caroj</i>.</p> + +<p>"Look at them," Edipon hissed and tugged at his nose. "The finest and +most beautiful of constructions, striking fear into our enemies' +hearts, carrying us fleetly across the sands, bearing on their backs +immense loads and only three of the things are able to move."</p> + +<p>"Engine trouble?" Jason asked lightly.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image_010.jpg" width="300" height="613" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Edipon grumbled, cursed and fumed under his breath and led the way to +an inner courtyard where stood four immense black boxes painted with +death-heads, splintered bones, fountains of blood and cabalistic +symbols all of a sinister appearance.</p> + +<p>"Those swine in Appsala take our water-of-power and give nothing in +return. Oh yes, they let us use their engines, but after running for a +few months the cursed things stop and will not go again, then we must +bring them back to the city to exchange for a new one, and pay again +and again."</p> + +<p>"A nice racket," Jason said, looking at the sealed covering on the +engines. "Why don't you just crack into them and fix them yourself, +they can't be very complex."</p> + +<p>"That is death!" Edipon gasped, and both D'zertanoj recoiled from the +boxes at the thought. "We have tried that, in my father's father's +day, since we are not superstitious like the slaves and know that +these are man-made not god-made. However the tricky serpents of +Appsala hide their secrets with immense cunning. If any attempt is +made 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 by +it develop immense blisters and die in pain. The man of Appsala +laughed when this happened to our people and after that raised the +price even higher."</p> + +<p>Jason circled one of the boxes, examining it with interest, trailing +Narsisi behind him at the end of the chain. The thing was higher than +his head and almost twice as long. A heavy shaft emerged through +openings on opposite sides, probably the power takeoff for the wheels. +Through an opening in the side he could see inset handles and two +small colored disks, and above this were three funnel-shaped openings +shaped and painted like mouths. By standing on tiptoe Jason looked on +top but there was only a flanged, sooty opening that must be for +attachment of a smokestack. There was only one more opening, a +smallish one in the rear, and no other controls on the garish +container.</p> + +<p>"I'm beginning to get the picture, but you will have to tell me how +you work the controls."</p> + +<p>"Death before that," Narsisi shouted. "Only my family—"</p> + +<p>"Will you shut up!" Jason shouted right back. "Remember? You're not +allowed to browbeat the help anymore. There are no secrets here. Not +only that, but I probably know more about this thing than you do just +by looking at it. Oil, water and fuel go in these three openings, you +poke a light in somewhere, probably in that smoky hole under the +controls, open one of those valves for fuel supply, another one is to +make the engine go slower and faster, and the third is for your water +feed. The disks are indicators of some kind." Narsisi paled and +stepped back. "So keep the trap shut while I talk to your dad."</p> + +<p>"It is as you say," Edipon pointed. "The mouths must always be filled +and woebetide if they shall go empty for the powers will halt or +worse. Fire goes in here as you guessed, and when the green finger +comes forward this lever may be turned for motion. The next is for +great speed or going slow. The very last is under the sign of the red +finger, which when it points indicates need, and the handle must be +turned and held until the finger retires. White breath comes from the +opening in back. That is all there is."</p> + +<p>"About what I expected," Jason muttered and examined the container +wall, rapping it with his knuckles until it boomed. "They give you the +minimum of controls to run the thing, so you won't learn anything +about the basic principles involved. Without the theory you would +never know what the handles control, or that the green indicator comes +out when you have operating pressure or the red one when the water +level is low in the boiler. Very neat. And the whole thing sealed up +in a can and booby-trapped in case you have any ideas of going into +business for yourself.</p> + +<p>"The cover sounds like it is double walled, and from your description +I would say that it has one of the vesicant war gases, like mustard +gas, sealed inside there in liquid form. Anyone who tries to cut their +way in will quickly forget their ambitions after a dose of that. Yet +there must be a way to get inside the case and service the engine, +they aren't just going to throw them away after a few months' use. And +considering the level of technology displayed by this monstrosity I +should be able to find the tricks and get around any other built-in +traps. I think I'll take the job."</p> + +<p>"Very well, begin."</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute, boss, you still have a few things to learn about hired +labor. There are always certain working conditions and agreements +involved, all of which I'll be happy to list for you."</p> + + +<h2>VIII</h2> +<p>"What I do not understand is why you must have the other slave?" +Narsisi whined. "To have the woman of course is natural, as well as to +have quarters of your own, my father has given his permission. But he +also said that I and my brothers are to help you, that the secrets of +the engine are to be revealed to no one else."</p> + +<p>"Then trot right over to him and get permission for the slave Mikah to +join me in the work. You can explain that he comes from the same land +that I do, and that your secrets are mere children's toys to him. And +if dad wants any other reasons tell him that I need skilled aid, +someone who knows how to handle tools and who can be trusted to follow +directions exactly as given. You and your brothers have entirely too +many ideas of your own about how things should be done, and a tendency +to leave details up to the gods and have a good bash with the hammer +if things don't work the way they should."</p> + +<p>Narsisi retired, seething and mumbling to himself while Jason huddled +over the oil stove planning the next step. It had taken most of the +day to lay down logs for rollers and to push the sealed engine out +into the sandy valley, far from the well site; open space was needed +for any experiments where a mistake could release a cloud of war gas. +Even Edipon had finally seen the sense of this, though all of his +tendencies were to conduct the experiments with great secretiveness +behind locked doors. He had granted permission only after skin walls +had been erected to form an enclosure that could be guarded; it was +only incidental that they acted as a much-appreciated windbreak.</p> + +<p>And after much argument the dangling chains and shackles had been +removed from Jason's arms and light-weight leg-irons substituted. He +had to shuffle when he walked but his arms were completely free, a +great improvement over the chains, even though one of the brothers +kept watch with a cocked crossbow as long as Jason wasn't fastened +down. Now he had to get some tools and some idea of the technical +knowledge of these people before he could proceed, which would +necessarily entail one more battle over their precious secrets.</p> + +<p>"Come on," he called to his guard, "let's find Edipon and give his +ulcers another twinge."</p> + +<p>After his first enthusiasm the leader of the D'zertanoj was getting +very little pleasure out of his new project.</p> + +<p>"You have quarters of your own," he grumbled, "and the slave woman to +cook for you, and I have just given permission for the other slave to +help you. Now more requests—do you want to drain all the blood from +my body?"</p> + +<p>"Let's not dramatize too much. I simply want some tools to get on with +my work, and a peek at your machine shop or wherever it is you do your +mechanical work. I have to have some idea of the way you people solve +mechanical problems before I can go to work on that box of tricks out +there in the desert."</p> + +<p>"Entrance is forbidden—"</p> + +<p>"Regulations are snapping like straws today, so we might as well go on +and finish off a few more. Will you lead the way?"</p> + +<p>The guards were reluctant to open the refinery building gates to +Jason, and there was much rattling of keys and worried looks. A brace +of elderly D'zertanoj, stinking of oil fumes, emerged from the +interior and joined in a shouted argument with Edipon whose will +finally prevailed. Chained again, and guarded like a murderer, Jason +was begrudgingly led into the dark interior, the contents of which was +depressingly anticlimactic.</p> + +<p>"Really from rubeville," Jason sneered and kicked at the boxful of +hand-forged and clumsy tools. The work was of the crudest, the product +of a sort of neolithic machine age. The distilling retort had been +laboriously formed from sheet copper and clumsily riveted together. It +leaked mightily as did the soldered seams on the hand-formed pipe. +Most of the tools were blacksmith's tongs and hammers for heating and +beating out shapes on the anvil. The only things that gladdened +Jason's heart were the massive drill press and lathe that worked off +the slave-power drive belts. In the tool holder of the lathe was +clamped a chip of some hard mineral that did a good enough job of +cutting the forged iron and low-carbon steel. Even more cheering was +the screw-thread advance on the cutting head that was used to produce +the massive nuts and bolts that secured the <i>caroj</i> wheels to their +shafts. It could have been worse. Jason sorted out the smallest and +handiest tools and put them aside for his own use in the morning. The +light was almost gone and there would be no more work this day.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They left, in armed procession, as they came, and a brace of brothers +showed him to the kennellike room that was to be his private quarters. +The heavy bolt thudded shut in the door behind him and he winced at +the thick fumes of half-burnt kerosene through which the light of the +single-wick lamp barely penetrated. Ijale crouched over the small oil +stove cooking something in a pottery bowl. She looked up and smiled +hesitatingly at Jason, then turned back to the stove. Jason walked +over, sniffed and shuddered.</p> + +<p>"What a feast! <i>Krenoj</i> soup, and I suppose followed by fresh <i>krenoj</i> +and <i>krenoj</i> salad. Tomorrow I see about getting a little variety into +the diet."</p> + +<p>"Ch'aka is great," she whispered without looking up. "Ch'aka is +powerful...."</p> + +<p>"Jason is the name, I lost the Ch'aka job when they took the uniform +away."</p> + +<p>"... Jason is powerful to work charms on the D'zertanoj and makes them +do what he will. His slave thanks you."</p> + +<p>He lifted her chin and the dumb obedience in her eyes made him wince. +"Can't we forget about the slavery bit? We are in this thing together +and we'll get out of it together."</p> + +<p>"We will escape, I knew it. You will kill all the D'zertanoj and +release your slaves and lead us home again where we can march and find +<i>krenoj</i> far from this terrible place."</p> + +<p>"Some girls are sure easy to please. That is roughly what I had in +mind, except when we get out of here we are going in the other +direction, as far away from your <i>krenoj</i> crowd as I can get."</p> + +<p>Ijale listened attentively, stirring the soup with one hand and +scratching inside her leather wrappings with the other. Jason found +himself scratching as well, and realized from sore spots on his hide +that he had been doing an awful lot of this since he had been dragged +out of the ocean of this inhospitable planet.</p> + +<p>"Enough is enough!" he exploded and went over and hammered on the +door. "This place is a far cry from civilization as I know it, but +that is no reason why we can't be as comfortable as possible." Chains +and bolts rattled outside the door and Narsisi pushed his gloom-ridden +face in.</p> + +<p>"Why do you cry out? What is wrong?"</p> + +<p>"I need some water, lots of it."</p> + +<p>"But you have water," Narsisi said, puzzled, and pointed to a stone +crock in the corner. "There is water there enough for days."</p> + +<p>"By your standards, Nars old boy, not mine. I want at least ten times +as much as that and I want it now. And some soap, if there is such +stuff in this barbaric place."</p> + +<p>There was a good deal of argument involved, but Jason finally got his +way with the water by explaining it was needed for religious rites to +make sure that he would not fail in the work tomorrow. It came in a +varied collection of containers along with a shallow bowl full of +powerful soft soap.</p> + +<p>"We're in business," he chortled. "Take your clothes off, I have a +surprise for you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jason," Ijale said, smiling happily.</p> + +<p>"You're going to get a bath. Do you know what a bath is?"</p> + +<p>"No," she said, and shuddered. "It sounds evil."</p> + +<p>"Over here and off with the clothes," he ordered, poking at a hole in +the floor. "This should serve as a drain, at least the water went away +when I poured some into it."</p> + +<p>The water was warm from the stove, yet Ijale still crouched against +the wall and shuddered when he poured it over her. She screamed when +he rubbed the slippery soap into her hair, and he continued with his +hand over her mouth so that she wouldn't bring in the guards. He +rubbed the soap into his own head, too, and it tingled delightfully as +it soaked through to his scalp. Some of it was in his ears, muffling +them, so the first intimation he had that the door was opened was the +sound of Mikah's hoarse shout. He was standing in the doorway, finger +pointed and shaking with wrath. Narsisi was standing behind him, +peering over his shoulder with fascination at this weird religious +rite.</p> + +<p>"Degradation!" Mikah thundered. "You force this poor creature to bend +to your will, humiliate her, strip her clothes from her and gaze upon +her though you are not united in lawful wedlock." He shielded his eyes +from sight with a raised arm. "You are evil, Jason, a demon of evil +and must be brought to justice—"</p> + +<p>"<i>Out!</i>" Jason roared, and spun Mikah about and started him through +the door with one of his practiced Ch'aka kicks. "The only evil here +is in your mind, you snooping scut. I'm giving the girl the first +scrubbing of her life and you should be giving me a medal for bringing +sanitation to the natives instead of howling like that." He pushed +them both out the door and shouted at Narsisi. "I wanted this slave, +but not <i>now</i>! Lock him up until morning then bring him back." He +slammed the door and made a mental note to get hold of a bolt to be +placed on this side as well.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>There were more <i>krenoj</i> for breakfast but Jason was feeling too good +physically to mind. He was scrubbed raw and clean and the itching was +gone even from his sprouting beard. The metalcloth of his Pyrran +coverall had dried almost as soon as it had been washed so he was +wearing clean clothes as well. Ijale was still recovering from the +traumatic effects of her bath, but she looked positively attractive +with her skin cleaned and her hair washed and combed a bit. He would +have to find some of the local cloth for her since it would be a shame +to ruin the good work by letting her get back into the badly cured +skins she was used to wearing. It was with a sensation of positive +good feeling that he bellowed for the door to be opened and stamped +through the cool morning to his place of labor. Mikah was already +there, looking scruffy and angry as he rattled his chains; Jason gave +him the friendliest of smiles that only rubbed salt into the other's +moral wounds.</p> + +<p>"Leg-irons for him, too," Jason ordered, "And do it fast. We have a +big job to do today." He turned back to the sealed engine, rubbing his +hands together with anticipation.</p> + +<p>The concealing hood was made of thin metal that could not hide many +secrets. He carefully scratched away some of the paint and discovered +a crimped and soldered joint where the sides met, but no other +revealing marks. After an hour spent tapping all over with his ear +pressed to the metal he was sure that the hood was just what he had +thought it was when he first examined the thing—a double-walled metal +container filled with liquid. Puncture it and you were dead. It was +there merely to hide the secrets of the engine, and served no other +function. Yet it had to be passed to service the steam engine—or did +it? The construction was roughly cubical, and the hood covered only +five sides. What about the sixth, the base?</p> + +<p>"Now you're thinking, Jason," he chortled to himself, and knelt down +to examine it. A wide flange, apparently of cast iron, projected all +around, and was penetrated by four large bolt holes. The protective +casing seemed to be soldered to the base, but there must be stronger +concealed attachments because it would not move even after he +carefully scratched away some of the solder at the base. Therefore the +answer simply had to be on the sixth side.</p> + +<p>"Over here, Mikah," he called, and the man detached himself +reluctantly from the warmth of the stove and shuffled up. "Come close +and look at this medieval motive-power while we talk, as if we are +discussing business. Are you going to co-operate with me?"</p> + +<p>"I do not want to, Jason. I am afraid that you will soil me with your +touch, as you have others."</p> + +<p>"Well you're not so clean now—"</p> + +<p>"I do not mean physically."</p> + +<p>"Well I do. You could certainly do with a bath and a deep shampoo. I'm +not worried about the state of your soul, you can battle that out on +your own time. But if you work with me I'll find a way to get us out +of this place and to the city that made this engine, because if there +is a way off this planet we'll find it only in the city."</p> + +<p>"I know that, yet I still hesitate—"</p> + +<p>"Small sacrifices now for the greater good later. Isn't the entire +purpose of this trip to get me back to justice? You're not going to +accomplish that by rotting out the rest of your life as a slave."</p> + +<p>"You are the devil's advocate the way you twist my conscience—yet +what you say is true. I will help you here so that we can escape."</p> + +<p>"Fine. Now get to work. Take Narsisi and have him round up at least +three good-sized poles, the kind we were chained to in the pumping +gang. Bring them back here along with a couple of shovels."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Slaves carried the poles only as far as the outside of the skin walls, +since Edipon would not admit them inside, and it was up to Jason and +Mikah to drag them laboriously to the site. The D'zertanoj, who never +did physical labor, thought it was very funny when Jason suggested +that they help. Once in position by the engine, Jason dug channels +beneath it and forced the bars under. When this was done he took turns +with Mikah in digging out the sand beneath until the engine stood over +a pit supported only by the bars. Jason let himself down and examined +the bottom of the machine. It was smooth and featureless.</p> + +<p>Once more he scratched away the paint with careful precision, until it +was cleared around the edges. Here the solid metal gave way to solder +and he picked at this until he discovered that a piece of sheet metal +had been soldered at the edges and fastened to the bedplate. "Very +tricky, these Appsalanoj," he chortled and attacked the solder with a +knife blade. When one end was loose he slowly pulled the sheet of +metal away, making positive that there was nothing attached to it, nor +that it had been booby-trapped in any way. It came off easily enough +and clanged down into the pit. The revealed surface was smooth metal, +featureless and hard.</p> + +<p>"Enough for one day," Jason said, climbing out of the pit and brushing +off his hands. It was almost dark. "We've accomplished enough for now +and I want to think a bit before I go ahead. So far luck has been on +our side, but I don't think it should be this easy. I hope you brought +your suitcase with you, Mikah, because you're moving in with me."</p> + +<p>"Never! A sink of sin, depravity—"</p> + +<p>Jason looked him coldly in the eye and with each word he spoke he +stabbed him in the chest with his finger to drive home the point. "You +are moving in with me because that is essential to our plans. And if +you stop referring to my moral weaknesses I'll stop talking about +yours. Now come on."</p> + +<p>Living with Mikah Samon was trying, but barely possible. He made Ijale +and Jason go to the far wall and turn their backs and promise not to +look while he bathed behind a screen of skins. Jason did this but +exacted a small revenge by telling Ijale jokes so that they tittered +together and Mikah would be sure they were laughing at him. The screen +of skins remained after the bath, and was reinforced, and Mikah +retired behind it to sleep. Their food still consisted only of +<i>krenoj</i> and Jason shuddered while he admitted that he was actually +growing used to them.</p> + +<p>The following morning, under the frightened gaze of his guards, Jason +tackled the underside of the baseplate. He had been thinking about it +a good part of the night and he put his theories to the test at once. +By pressing hard on a knife he could make a good groove in the metal. +It was not as soft as the solder, but seemed to be some simple alloy +containing a good percentage of lead. What could it be concealing? +Probing carefully with the point of the knife he covered the bottom in +a regular pattern. The depth of the metal was uniformly deep except in +two spots where he found irregularities, they were on the midline of +the rectangular base, and equidistant from the ends and sides. Picking +and scraping he uncovered two familiar looking shapes each as big as +his head.</p> + +<p>"Mikah. Get down in this hole and look at these things. Tell me what +you think they are."</p> + +<p>Mikah scratched his beard. "They're still covered with this metal, I +can't be sure—"</p> + +<p>"I'm not asking you to be sure of anything—just tell me what they +make you think of."</p> + +<p>"Why ... big nuts of course. Threaded on the ends of bolts. But they +are so big—"</p> + +<p>"They would have to be if they hold the entire metal case on. I think +we are getting very close now to the mystery of how to open the +engine—and this is the time to be careful. I still can't believe it +is as easy as this to crack the secret. I'm going to whittle a wooden +template of the nut, then have a wrench made. While I'm gone you stay +down here and pick all the metal off the bolt and out of the screw +threads. I can put off doing it while we think this thing through, but +sooner or later I'm going to have to take a stab at turning one of +those nuts. And I find it very hard to forget about that mustard gas."</p> + +<p>Making the wrench put a small strain on the local technology and all +of the old men who enjoyed the title of Masters of the Still went into +consultation over it. One of them was a fair blacksmith and after a +ritual sacrifice and a round of prayers he shoved a bar of iron into +the charcoal and Jason pumped the bellows until it glowed white hot. +With much hammering and cursing it was laboriously formed into a +sturdy open-end wrench with an offset head to get at the countersunk +nuts. Jason made sure that the opening was slightly undersized, then +took the untempered wrench to the work site and filed the jaws to an +exact fit. After being reheated and quenched in oil he had the tool +that he hoped would do the job.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Edipon must have been keeping track of the work progress because he +was waiting near the engine when Jason returned with the completed +wrench.</p> + +<p>"I have been under," he announced, "and have seen the nuts that the +devilish Appsalanoj have concealed within solid metal. Who would have +suspected! It still seems to me impossible that one metal could be +hidden within another, how could that be done?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_011.jpg" width="600" height="246" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Easy enough. The base of the assembled engine was put into a form and +the molten covering metal poured into it. It must have a much lower +melting point than the steel of the engine so there would be no +damage. They just have a better knowledge of metal technology in the +city and counted on your ignorance."</p> + +<p>"Ignorance! You insult—"</p> + +<p>"I take it back. I just meant they thought they could get away with +the trick, and since they didn't they are the stupid ones. Does that +satisfy you?"</p> + +<p>"What do you do next?"</p> + +<p>"I take off the nuts and when I do there is a good chance that the +poison-hood will be released and can simply be lifted off."</p> + +<p>"It is too dangerous for you to do, the fiends may still have other +traps ready when the nut is turned. I will send a strong slave to turn +them while we watch from a distance, his death will not matter."</p> + +<p>"I'm touched by your concern for my health, but as much as I would +like to take advantage of the offer, I cannot. I've been over the same +ground and reached the reluctant conclusion that this is one job of +work that I have to do myself. Taking off those nuts looks entirely +too easy, and that's what makes me suspicious. I'm going to do it and +look out for any more trickery at the same time—and that is something +that only I can do. Now I suggest you withdraw with the troops to a +safer spot."</p> + +<p>There was no hesitation about leaving, footsteps rustled quickly on +the sand and Jason was alone. The leather walls flapped slackly in the +wind and there was no other sound. Jason spat on his palms, controlled +a slight shiver and slid into the pit. The wrench fitted neatly over +the nut, he wrapped both hands around it and, bracing his leg against +the pit wall, began to pull.</p> + +<p>And stopped. Three turns of thread on the bolt projected below the +nut, scraped clean of metal by the industrious Mikah. Something about +them looked very wrong but he didn't know quite what.</p> + +<p>"Mikah," he shouted, and had to call loudly two more times before his +assistant poked his head tentatively around the screen. "Nip over to +the petroleum works and get me one of their bolts threaded with a nut, +any size, it doesn't matter."</p> + +<p>Jason warmed his hands by the stove until Mikah returned with the oily +bolt, then waved him out to rejoin the others. Back in the pit he held +it up next to the protruding section of Appsalan bolt and chortled +with joy. The threads on the angle bolt were canted at a slightly +different angle: where one ran up, the other ran down. The Appsalan +threads had been cut in reverse, with a lefthand thread.</p> + +<p>Throughout the galaxy there existed as many technical and cultural +differences as there were planets, yet one of the few things they all +had in common, inherited from their terrestrial ancestors, was a +uniformity of thread. Jason had never thought about it before, but +when he mentally ran through his experiences on different planets he +realized that they were all the same. Screws went into wood, bolts +went into threaded holes and nuts all went onto bolts when you turned +them with a clockwise motion. Counterclockwise removed them. In his +hand was the crude D'zertano nut and bolt, and when he tried it it +moved in the same manner. But the engine bolt did not work that +way—it had to be turned clockwise to <i>remove</i> it.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Dropping the nut and bolt he placed the wrench on the massive engine +bolt and slowly applied pressure in what felt like the completely +wrong direction, as if he were tightening not loosening. It gave +slowly, first a quarter then a half turn. And bit by bit the +projection threads vanished until they were level with the surface of +the nut. It turned easily now and within a minute it fell into the +pit—he threw the wrench after it and scrambled out. Standing at the +edge he carefully sniffed the air, ready to run at the slightest smell +of gas. There was nothing.</p> + +<p>The second nut came off as easily as the first and with no ill +effects. Jason pushed a sharp chisel between the upper case and the +baseplate where he had removed the solder, and when he leaned on it +the case shifted slightly, held down only by its own weight.</p> + +<p>From the entrance to the enclosure he shouted to the group huddled in +the distance. "Come on back—this job is almost finished."</p> + +<p>They all took turns at sliding into the pit and looking at the +projecting bolts and made appreciative sounds when Jason leaned on the +chisel and showed how the case was free.</p> + +<p>"There is still the little matter of taking it off," he told them, +"and I'm sure that grabbing and heaving is the wrong way. That was my +first idea too, but the people who assembled that thing had some bad +trouble in store for anyone who tightened those nuts instead of +loosening them. Until we find out what that is we are going to tread +very lightly. Do you have any big blocks of ice around here, Edipon? +It is winter now, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Ice? Winter?" Edipon mumbled, caught off guard by the change of +direction, rubbing abstractedly at the reddened tip of his prominent +nose. "Of course it is winter. Ice, there must be ice at the higher +lakes in the mountain, they are always frozen at this time of the +year. But what do you want ice for?"</p> + +<p>"You get it and I'll show you. Have it cut in nice flat blocks that I +can stack. I'm not going to lift the hood—I'm going to drop the +engine out from underneath it!"</p> + +<p>By the time the slaves had brought the ice down from the distant lakes +Jason had rigged a strong wooden frame flat on the ground around the +engine and pushed sharpened metal wedges under the hood, then had +secured the wedges to the frame. Now, if the engine was lowered into +the pit, the hood would stay above supported by the wedges. The ice +would take care of this. Jason built a foundation of ice under the +engine then slipped out the supporting bars. Now as the ice slowly +melted the engine would be gently lowered into the pit.</p> + +<p>The weather remained cold and the ice refused to melt until Jason had +the pit ringed with smoking oil stoves. Water began to run down into +the pit and Mikah went to work bailing it out, while the gap between +the hood and the baseplate widened. The melting continued for the rest +of the day and almost all of the night. Red-eyed and exhausted Jason +and Mikah supervised the soggy sinking and when the D'zertanoj +returned at dawn the engine rested safely in a pool of mud on the +bottom of the pit: the hood was off.</p> + +<p>"They're tricky devils over there in Appsala, but Jason dinAlt wasn't +born yesterday," he exulted. "Do you see that crock sitting there on +top of the engine," he pointed to a sealed container of thick glass +the size of a small barrel, filled with an oily greenish liquid; it +was clamped down tightly with padded supports. "That's the booby trap. +The nuts I took off were on the threaded ends of two bars that held +the hood on, but instead of being fastened directly to the hood they +were connected by a crossbar that rested on top of that jug. If either +nut was tightened instead of being loosened, the bar would have bent +and broken the glass. I'll give you exactly one guess as to what would +have happened then."</p> + +<p>"The poison liquid!"</p> + +<p>"None other. And the double-walled hood is filled with it, too. I +suggest that as soon as we have dug a deep hole in the desert the hood +and container be buried and forgotten about. I doubt if the engine has +many other surprises in store, but I'll be careful as I work on it."</p> + +<p>"You can fix it? You know what is wrong with it?" Edipon was vibrating +with joy.</p> + +<p>"Not yet, I have barely looked at the thing. In fact one look was +enough to convince that the job will be as easy as stealing <i>krenoj</i> +from a blind man. The engine is as inefficient and clumsy in +construction as your petroleum still. If you people put one tenth of +the energy into research and improving your product as you do into +hiding it from the competition, you would all be flying jets."</p> + +<p>"I forgive your insult because you have done us a service. You will +now fix this engine and the other engines. A new day is breaking for +us!"</p> + +<p>"Right now it is a new night that is breaking for me," Jason yawned. +"I have two days sleep to make up. See if you can talk your sons into +wiping the water off that engine before it rusts away, and when I get +back I'll see what I can do about getting it into running condition."</p> + + +<h2>IX</h2> +<p>Edipon's good mood remained and Jason took advantage of it by +extracting as many concessions as possible. By hinting that there +might be more traps in the engine permission was easily gained to do +all the work on the original site instead of inside the sealed and +guarded buildings. A covered shed gave them protection from the +weather and a test stand was constructed to hold the engines when +Jason worked on them. This was of a unique design and built to Jason's +exacting specification, and since no one, including Mikah, had ever +heard of or seen a test stand before Jason had his way.</p> + +<p>The first engine proved to have a burnt-out bearing and Jason rebuilt +it by melting down the original bearing metal and casting it in +position. When he unbolted the head of the massive single cylinder he +shuddered at the clearance around the piston; he could fit his fingers +into the opening between the piston and the cylinder wall; by +introducing cylinder rings he doubled the compression and power +output. When Edipon saw the turn of speed the rebuilt engine gave his +<i>caroj</i> he hugged Jason to his bosom and promised him the highest +reward. This turned out to be a small piece of meat every day to +relieve the monotony of the <i>krenoj</i> meals, and a doubled guard to +make sure that his valuable property did not escape.</p> + +<p>Jason had his own plans and kept busy manufacturing a number of +pieces of equipment that had nothing at all to do with his +engine-overhauling business. While these were being assembled he went +about lining up a little aid.</p> + +<p>"What would you do if I gave you a club?" he asked a burly slave whom +he was helping to haul a log towards his workshop. Narsisi and one of +his brothers lazed along out of earshot, bored by the routine of the +guard duty.</p> + +<p>"What I do with club?" the slave grunted, forehead furrowing and mouth +gaping open with the effort of thought.</p> + +<p>"That's what I asked. And keep pulling while you think, I don't want +the guards to notice anything."</p> + +<p>"If I have club, I kill!" the slave announced excitedly, fingers +grasping eagerly for coveted weapon.</p> + +<p>"Would you kill me?"</p> + +<p>"I have club, I kill you, you not so big."</p> + +<p>"But if I gave you the club wouldn't I be your friend? Then wouldn't +you want to kill someone else?"</p> + +<p>The novelty of this alien thought stopped the slave dead and he +scratched his head perplexedly until Narsisi lashed him back to work. +Jason sighed and found another slave to try his sales program on.</p> + +<p>It took a while, but the idea was eventually percolating through the +ranks of the slaves. All they had to look forward to from the +D'zertanoj was backbreaking labor and an early death. Jason offered +them something else, weapons, a chance to kill their masters, and even +more killing later when they marched on Appsala. It was difficult for +them to grasp the idea that they must work together to accomplish this +and not kill Jason and each other as soon as they received weapons.</p> + +<p>It was a chancy plan at best, and would probably break down long +before any visit could be made to the city. But the revolt should be +enough to free them from bondage, even if the slaves fled afterwards. +There were less than fifty D'zertanoj at this well station, all men, +with their women and children at some other settlement further back in +the hills. It would not be too hard to kill them or chase them off and +long before they could bring reinforcements Jason and his runaway +slaves would be gone. There was just one factor missing from his plans +and a new draft of slaves solved even that problem for him.</p> + +<p>"Happy days," he laughed, pushing open the door to his quarters and +rubbing his hands together with glee. The guard shoved Mikah in after +him and locked the door. Jason secured it with his own interior bolt +then waved the two others over to the corner farthest from the door +and tiny window opening.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"New slaves today," he told them, "and one of them is from Appsala, a +mercenary or a soldier of some kind that they captured on a skirmish. +He knows that they will never let him live long enough to leave here, +so he was grateful for any suggestions I had."</p> + +<p>"This is man's talk I do not understand," Ijale said, turning away and +starting towards the cooking fire.</p> + +<p>"You'll understand this," Jason said, taking her by the shoulder. +"The soldier knows where Appsala is and can lead us there. The time +has come to think about leaving this place."</p> + +<p>He had all of her attention now, and Mikah's as well, "How is this?" +she gasped.</p> + +<p>"I have been making my plans, I have enough files and lockpicks now to +crack into every room in this place, a few weapons, the key to the +armory and every able bodied slave on my side."</p> + +<p>"What do you plan to do?" Mikah asked.</p> + +<p>"Stage a servile revolt in the best style. The slaves fight the +D'zertanoj and we get away, perhaps with an army helping us, but at +least we get away."</p> + +<p>"You are talking <i>revolution</i>!" Mikah bellowed and Jason jumped him +and knocked him to the floor. Ijale held his legs down while Jason +squatted on his chest and covered his mouth.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with you? Want to spend the rest of your life +rebuilding stolen engines? They are guarding us too well for there to +be much chance of our breaking out on our own, so we need allies. We +have them ready made, all the slaves."</p> + +<p>"Brevilushun...." Mikah mumbled through the restraining fingers.</p> + +<p>"Of course it's a revolution. It is also the only possible chance of +survival that these poor devils will ever have. Now they are human +cattle, beaten and killed on whim. You can't be feeling sorry for the +D'zertanoj—every one of them is a murderer ten times over. You've +seen them beat people to death. Do you feel that they are too nice to +suffer a revolution?"</p> + +<p>Mikah relaxed and Jason removed his hand slightly, ready to clamp down +if the other's voice rose above a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Of course they are not nice, beasts in human garb is more truthful. I +feel no mercy for them and they should be wiped out and blotted from +the face of the earth as was Sodom and Gomorrah. But it cannot be done +by revolution, revolution is evil, inherently evil."</p> + +<p>Jason stifled a groan. "Try telling that to two-thirds of the +governments that now exist, since that's about how many were founded +by revolution. Nice, liberal democratic governments—that were started +by a bunch of lads with guns and the immense desire to run things in a +manner more beneficial to themselves. How else do you get rid of the +powers on your neck if there is no way to legally vote them away? If +you can't vote them—shoot them."</p> + +<p>"Bloody revolution, it cannot be!"</p> + +<p>"All right, no revolution," Jason said, getting up and wiping his +hands disgustedly. "We'll change the name. How about calling it a +prison break? No, you wouldn't like that either. I have +it—liberation! We are going to strike the chains off these poor +people and restore them to the lands from which they were stolen. The +tiny fact that the slave holders regard them as property and won't +think much of the idea, therefore might get hurt in the process, +shouldn't bother you. So—will you join me in this Liberation +Movement?"</p> + +<p>"It is still revolution."</p> + +<p>"It is whatever I decide to call it!" Jason raged. "You come along +with me on the plans or you will be left behind when we go. You have +my word on that." He stomped over and helped himself to some soup and +waited for his anger to simmer down.</p> + +<p>"I cannot do it ... I cannot do it," Mikah brooded, staring into his +rapidly cooling soup as into an oracular crystal ball, seeking +guidance there. Jason turned his back in disgust.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Don't end up like him," he warned Ijale, pointing his spoon back over +his shoulder. "Not that there is much chance that you ever will coming +as you do from a society with its feet firmly planted on the ground, +or on the grave to be more accurate. Your people see only concrete +facts, and only the most obvious ones, and as simple an abstraction as +'trust' seems beyond you. While this long-faced clown can only think +in abstractions of abstractions, and the more unreal they are the +better. I bet he even worries about how many angels can dance on the +head of a pin."</p> + +<p>"I do not worry about it," Mikah broke in, overhearing the remark. +"But I do think about it once in a while, it is a problem that cannot +be lightly dismissed."</p> + +<p>"You see?"</p> + +<p>Ijale nodded. "If he is wrong, and I am wrong—then you must be the +only one who is right." She nodded in satisfaction at the thought.</p> + +<p>"Very nice of you to say so," Jason smiled. "And true, too. I lay no +claims to infallibility but I am sure that I can see the difference +between abstractions and facts a lot better than either of you, and I +am certainly more adroit at handling them. The Jason dinAlt fan club +meeting is now adjourned." He reached his hand over his shoulder and +patted himself on the back.</p> + +<p>"Monster of arrogance," Mikah bellowed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, shut up."</p> + +<p>"Pride goeth before a fall! You are a maledicent and idolatrous +antipietist...."</p> + +<p>"Very good."</p> + +<p>"... And I grieve that I could have considered aiding you for even a +second, or of standing by while you sin, and fear for the weakness of +my own soul that I have not been able to resist temptation as I +should. It grieves me, but I must do my duty." He banged loudly on the +door. "Guard! Guard!"</p> + +<p>Jason dropped his bowl and started to scramble to his feet, but +slipped in the spilled soup and fell. As he stood again the locks +rattled on the door and it opened. If he could reach Mikah before the +idiot opened his mouth he would close it forever, or at least knock +him out before it was too late.</p> + +<p>It was too late. Narsisi poked his head in and blinked sleepily; Mikah +struck his most dramatic pose and pointed to Jason. "Seize and arrest +that man, I denounce him for attempted revolution, for planning red +murder!"</p> + +<p>Jason skidded to a halt and back-tracked, diving into a bag of his +personal belongings that lay against the wall. He scrabbled in it, +then kicked the contents about and finally came up with a +metal-forming hammer that had a weighty solid lead head.</p> + +<p>"More traitor you," Jason shouted at Mikah as he ran at Narsisi who +had been dumbly watching the performance and mulling over Mikah's +words. Slow as he appeared, there was nothing wrong with his reflexes +and his shield snapped up and took Jason's blow while his club spun +over neatly and rapped Jason on the back of the hand: the numbed +fingers opened and the hammer dropped to the floor.</p> + +<p>"I think you two better come with me, my father will know what to do," +he said, pushing Jason and Mikah ahead of him out the door. He locked +it and called for one of his brothers to stand guard, then poked his +captives down the hall. They shuffled along in their leg-irons, Mikah +nobly as a martyr and Jason seething and grinding his teeth.</p> + +<p>Edipon was not at all stupid when it came to slave rebellions, and +sized up the situation even faster than Narsisi could relate it.</p> + +<p>"I have been expecting this, so it comes as no surprise." His eyes +held a mean little glitter when he leveled them at Jason. "I knew the +time would come when you would try to overthrow me, which was why I +permitted this other to assist you and to learn your skills. As I +expected he has betrayed you to gain your position, which I award him +now."</p> + +<p>"Betray? I did this for no personal gain," Mikah protested.</p> + +<p>"Only the purest of motives," Jason laughed coldly. "Don't believe a +word this pious crook tells you, Edipon. I'm not planning any +revolutions, he just said that to get my job."</p> + +<p>"You caluminate me, Jason! I never lie—you are planning revolt. You +told me—"</p> + +<p>"Silence both of you, or I'll have you beaten to death. This is my +judgment. The slave Mikah has betrayed the slave Jason, and whether +the slave Jason is planning rebellion or not is completely +unimportant. His assistant would have not denounced him unless he was +sure that he could do the work as well, which is the only fact that +has any importance to me. Your ideas about a worker-class have +troubled me Jason. I will be glad to kill them and you at the same +time. Chain him with the slaves. Mikah, I award you Jason's quarter +and woman, and as long as you do the work well I will not kill you. Do +it a long time and you will live a long time.</p> + +<p>"Only the purest of motives, is that what you said, Mikah?" Jason +shouted back as he was kicked from the room.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The descent from the pinnacle of power was fast and smooth. Within +half an hour new shackles were on Jason's wrists and he was chained to +the wall in a dark room filled with other slaves. His leg-irons had +been left on as an additional reminder of his new status. He rattled +the chains and examined them in the dim light of a distant lamp as +soon as the door was closed.</p> + +<p>"How comes the revolution?" the slave chained next to him leaned over +and asked in a hoarse whisper.</p> + +<p>"Very funny, ha-ha," Jason grumbled, then moved closer for a better +look at the man who had a fine case of strabismus, his eyes pointing +in independent directions. "You look familiar ... are you the new +slave I talked to today?"</p> + +<p>"That's me, Snarbi, fine soldier, pikeman, checked out on club and +dagger, seven kills and two possibles on my record, you can check it +yourself at the guild hall."</p> + +<p>"I remember it all Snarbi, including the fact that you know your way +back to Appsala."</p> + +<p>"I've been around."</p> + +<p>"Then the revolution is still on, in fact it is starting right now but +I want to keep it small. Instead of freeing all these slaves what do +you say to the idea that we two escape by ourselves?"</p> + +<p>"Best idea I heard since torture was invented, we don't need all these +stupid people. They just get in the way. Keep the operation small and +fast, that's what I always say."</p> + +<p>"I always say that, too," Jason agreed, digging into his boot with his +fingertip. He had managed to shove his best file and a lockpick into +hiding there while Mikah was betraying him back in their room. The +attack on Narsisi with the hammer had just been a cover up.</p> + +<p>Jason had made the file himself after many attempts at manufacturing +and hardening steel, and the experiments had been successful. He +picked out the clay that covered the cut he had made in his leg-cuffs +and tackled the soft iron with vigor; within three minutes they were +lying on the floor.</p> + +<p>"You a magician?" Snarbi whispered, shuddering back.</p> + +<p>"Mechanic. On this planet they're the same thing." He looked around +but the exhausted slaves were all asleep and had heard nothing. +Wrapping a piece of leather around it to muffle the sound he began to +file a link in the chain that secured the shackles on his wrists. +"Snarbi," he asked, "are we on the same chain?"</p> + +<p>"Yeah, the chain goes through these iron cuff things and holds the +whole row of slaves together, the other end goes out through a hole in +the wall."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't be better. I'm filing one of these links, and when it goes +we're both free. See if you can't slip the chain through the holes in +your shackles and lay it down without letting the next slave know what +is happening. We'll wear these iron cuffs for now, there is no time to +play around with them and they shouldn't bother us too much. Do the +guards come through here at all during the night to check on the +slaves?"</p> + +<p>"Not since I've been here, just wake us up in the morning by pulling +on the chain."</p> + +<p>"Then let's hope that's what happens again tonight, because we are +going to need plenty of time—<i>there!</i>" The file had cut through the +link. "See if you can get enough of a grip on the other end of this +link while I hold this end, we'll try and bend it open a bit." They +strained silently until the opening gaped wide and the next link +fitted through the cut.</p> + +<p>They slipped the chain and laid it silently on the ground, then +drifted noiselessly to the door.</p> + +<p>"Is there a guard outside?" Jason asked.</p> + +<p>"Not that I know. I don't think they have enough men here to guard all +the slaves."</p> + +<p>The door would not budge when they pushed against it, and there was +just light enough to make out the large keyhole of a massive inset +lock. Jason probed lightly with the pick and curled his lip in +contempt.</p> + +<p>"These idiots have left the key in the lock." He pulled off the +stiffest of his leather wrappings and after flattening it out pushed +it under the badly fitting bottom edge of the door, leaving just a bit +to hold onto. Then he poked lightly at the key through the keyhole and +heard it thud to the ground outside. When he pulled the leather back +in the key was lying in the center of it. The door unlocked silently +and a moment later they were outside, staring tensely into the +darkness.</p> + +<p>"Let's go! Run, get away from here," Snarbi said and Jason grabbed him +by the throat and pulled him back.</p> + +<p>"Isn't there one drop of constructive intelligence on this planet? How +are you going to get to Appsala without food or water, and if you find +some—how can you carry enough? You want to stay alive follow my +instructions. I'm going to lock this door first so that no one +stumbles onto our escape by accident. Then we are going to get some +transport and leave here in style. Agreed?"</p> + +<p>The answer was only a choked rattle until Jason opened his fingers a +bit and let some air into the man's lungs. A labored groan must have +meant assent because Snarbi tottered after him when he made his way +through the dark alleys between the buildings.</p> + +<p>Getting clear of the walled refinery town presented no problem since +the few sentries were only looking for trouble from the outside. It +was equally easy to approach Jason's leather-walled worksite from the +rear and slip through it at the spot where Jason had cut the leather +and sewn up the opening with thin twine.</p> + +<p>"Sit here and touch nothing or you will be cursed for life," he +commanded the shivering Snarbi, then slipped towards the front +entrance with a small sledge hammer clutched in his fist. He was +pleased to see one of Edipon's other sons on guard duty, leaning +against a pole and dozing. Jason gently lifted his leather helm with +his free hand and tapped once with the hammer: the guard slept even +more soundly.</p> + +<p>"Now we can get to work," Jason said when he had returned inside, and +clicked a firelighter to the wick of a lantern.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing? They'll see us, kill us—escaped slaves."</p> + +<p>"Stick with me Snarbi and you'll be wearing shoes. Lights here can't +be seen by the sentries, I made sure of that when I sited the place. +And we have a piece of work to do before we leave—we have to build a +<i>caroj</i>."</p> + +<p>They did not have to build it from scratch, but there was enough truth +in the statement to justify it. His most recently rebuilt and most +powerful engine was still bolted to the test stand, a fact that +justified all the night's risks. Three <i>caroj</i> wheels lay among the +other debris of the camp and two of them were to be bolted to the +engine while it was still on the stand. The ends of the driving axle +cleared the edges of the stand, Jason threaded the securing wheel +bolts into place and utilized Snarbi to tighten them.</p> + +<p>At the other end of the stand was a strong, swiveling post that had +been a support for his test instruments, and seemed strangely large +for this small task. It was. When the instruments were stripped away a +single bar remained projecting backwards like a tiller handle. When a +third wheel was fitted with a stub axle and slid into place in the +forked lower end of the post the test stand looked remarkably like a +three-wheeled, steerable, steam engine powered platform that was +mounted on legs. This is exactly what it was, what Jason had designed +it to be from the first, and the supporting legs came away with the +same ease that the other parts had been attached. Escape had always +taken first priority in his plans.</p> + +<p>Snarbi dragged over the crockery jars of oil, water and fuel while +Jason filled the tanks. He started the fire under the boiler and +loaded aboard tools and the small supply of <i>krenoj</i> he had managed to +set aside from their rations. All of this took time, but not time +enough. It would soon be dawn and they would have to leave before +then, and he could no longer avoid making up his mind. He could not +leave Ijale here, and if he went to get her he could not refuse to +take Mikah as well. The man had saved his life, no matter what +murderous idiocies he had managed to pull since that time. Jason +believed that you owed something to a man who prolonged your +existence, but he also wondered just how much he still owed. In +Mikah's case he felt the balance of the debt to be mighty small, if +not overdrawn. Perhaps this one last time.</p> + +<p>"Keep an eye on the engine and I'll be back as soon as I can," he +said, jumping to the ground and loading on equipment.</p> + +<p>"You want me to do <i>what</i>? Stay here with this devil machine? I +cannot! It will burn and consume me—"</p> + +<p>"Act your age, Snarbi, your physical age if not your mental one. This +rolling junk pile was made by men and repaired and improved by me, no +demons involved. It burns oil to make heat that makes steam that goes +to this tube to push that rod to make those wheels go around so we can +move, and that is as much of the theory of the steam engine as you are +going to get from me. Maybe you can understand this better—only I can +get you safely away from here. Therefore, you will stay and do as I +say or I will beat your brains in. Clear?"</p> + +<p>Snarbi nodded dumbly.</p> + +<p>"Fine. All you have to do is sit here and look at this little green +disk, see it? If it should pop out before I come back turn <i>this</i> +handle in <i>this</i> direction. Clear enough? That way the safety valve +won't blow and wake the whole country and we'll still have a head of +steam."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<img src="images/image_012.jpg" width="800" height="171" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Jason went out past the still-silent sentry and headed back towards +the refinery station. Instead of a club or a dagger he was armed with +a well tempered broadsword that he had managed to manufacture under +the noses of the guards. They had examined everything he brought from +the worksite, since he had been working in the evenings in his room, +but ignored everything he manufactured as being beyond their +comprehension. This primordial mental attitude had been of immense +value for in addition to the sword he carried a sack of molotails, a +simple weapon of assault whose origins were lost in pre-history. Small +crocks were filled with the most combustible of the refinery's +fractions and wrapped around outside with cloth that he had soaked in +the same liquid. The stench made him dizzy and he hoped that they +would repay his efforts when the time came, since they were completely +untried. In use one lit the outer covering and threw them. The +crockery burst on impact and the fuse ignited the contents. +Theoretically.</p> + +<p>Getting back in proved to be as easy as getting out, and Jason felt an +unmistakable twinge of regret. His subconscious had obviously been +hoping that there would be a disturbance and he would have to retreat +to save himself, his subconscious obviously being very short on +interest in saving the slave girl and his nemesis, particularly at the +risk of his own skin. His subconscious was disappointed. He was in the +building where his quarters lay, trying to peek around the corner to +see if a guard was at the door. There was, and he seemed to be dozing, +but something jerked him awake. He had heard nothing but he sniffed +the air and wrinkled his nose; the powerful smell of water-of-power +from Jason's molotails had roused him and he spotted Jason before he +could pull back.</p> + +<p>"Who is there?" he shouted and advanced at a lumbering run.</p> + +<p>There was no quiet way out of this one so Jason leaped out with an +echoing shout and lunged. The blade went right under the man's +guard—he must never have seen a sword before—and the tip caught him +full in the throat. He expired with a bubbling wail that stirred +voices deeper in the building. Jason sprang over the corpse and tore +at the multifold bolts and locks that sealed the door. Footsteps were +running in the distance when he finally threw the door open and ran +in.</p> + +<p>"Get out and quick we're escaping!" he shouted at them and pushed the +dazed Ijale towards the door and exacted a great deal of pleasure from +landing a tremendous kick that literally lifted Mikah through the +opening, where he collided with Edipon who had just run up waving a +club. Jason leaped over the tumbled forms, rapped Edipon behind the +ear with the hilt of his sword and dragged Mikah to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Get out to the engine works," he ordered his still uncomprehending +companions. "I have a <i>caroj</i> there that we can get away in." He +cursed them and they finally broke into clumsy motion. There were +shouts from behind him and an armed mob of D'zertanoj ran into view. +Jason pulled down the hall light, burning his hand on the hot base at +the same time, and applied its open flame to one of his molotails. The +wick caught with a roar of flame and he threw it at approaching +soldiers before it could burn his hand. It flew towards them, hit the +wall and broke, inflammable fuel spurted in every direction and the +flame went out.</p> + +<p>Jason cursed and grappled for another molotail, because if they didn't +work he was dead. The D'zertanoj had hesitated a moment rather than +walk through the puddle of spilled water-of-power and in that instant +he hurled the second fire bomb. This one burst nicely too, and lived +up to its maker's expectations when it ignited the first molotail as +well and the passageway filled with a curtain of fire. Holding his +hand around the lamp flame so it wouldn't go out, Jason ran after the +others.</p> + +<p>So far the alarm had not spread outside of the building and Jason +bolted the door from the outside. By the time this was broken open and +the confusion sorted out they would be clear of the buildings. There +was no need for the lamp now and would only give him away. He blew it +out and from the desert came a continuous and ear-piercing scream.</p> + +<p>"He's done it," Jason groaned. "That's the safety valve on the steam +engine!"</p> + +<p>He bumped into Ijale and Mikah who were milling about confusedly in +the dark, kicked Mikah again out of sheer malice and hatred of all +mankind, and led them towards the worksite at a dead run.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They escaped unharmed mainly because of the confusion on all sides of +them. The D'zertanoj seemed to never have experienced a night attack +before, which they apparently thought this was, and did an incredible +amount of rushing about and shouting. Matters were not helped by the +burning building nor the unconscious form of Edipon that was carried +from the blaze. All the D'zertanoj had been roused by the scream of +the safety valve, that was still bleeding irreplacable steam into the +night air, and there was much milling about.</p> + +<p>In the confusion the fleeing slaves were not noticed, and Jason led +them around the guard post on the walls and directly towards the +worksite. They were spotted as they crossed the empty ground and after +some hesitation the guard ran in pursuit. Jason was leading the enemy +directly to his precious steam-wagon, but he had no choice. The thing +was certainly making its presence known in any case, and unless he +reached it at once the head of steam would be gone and they would be +trapped. He leaped the still recumbent guard at the entrance and ran +towards his machine. Snarbi was cowering behind one wheel but there +was no time to give him any attention. As Jason jumped onto the +platform the safety valve closed and the sudden stillness was +frightening. The steam was gone.</p> + +<p>With frantic grabs he spun valves and shot one glance at the +indicator: there wasn't enough steam left to roll the meters. Water +gurgled and the boiler hissed and clacked at him while screams of +anger came from the D'zertanoj as they ran into the enclosure and saw +the bootleg <i>caroj</i>. Jason thrust the end of a molotail into the +firebox; it caught fire and he turned and hurled it at them. The angry +cries turned into screams of fear as the tongues of flame licked up at +the pursuers and they retreated in disorder. Jason ran after them and +hastened their departure with another molotail. They seemed to be +retreating as far as the refinery walls, but he could not be sure in +the darkness if some of them weren't creeping around to the sides.</p> + +<p>He hurried back to the <i>caroj</i>, tapped on the still-unmoving pressure +indicator and opened the fuel feed wide. As an afterthought he wired +down the safety valve since his reinforced boiler should hold more +pressure than the valve had been originally adjusted for. Once this +was finished he chewed at his oily fingernails since there was nothing +else that could be done until the pressure built up again. The +D'zertanoj would rally, someone would take charge, and they would +attack the worksite. If they had enough steam before this happened, +they would escape. If not—</p> + +<p>"Mikah, and you, too, you cowering slob Snarbi you, get behind this +thing and push," Jason said.</p> + +<p>"What has happened," Mikah asked. "Have you started this revolution? +If so I will give no aid...."</p> + +<p>"We're escaping, if that's all right with you. Just I, Ijale and a +guide to show us the way. You don't have to come—"</p> + +<p>"I will join you. There is nothing criminal in escaping from these +barbarians."</p> + +<p>"Very nice of you to say so. Now push. I want this steamobile in the +center, far from all the walls, and pointing towards the desert. Down +the valley I guess, is that right, Snarbi?"</p> + +<p>"Down the valley, sure, that's the way." His voice was still rasping +from the earlier throttling, Jason was pleased to notice.</p> + +<p>"Stop it here and everyone aboard. Grab onto those bars I've bolted +along the sides so you won't get bounced off, if we ever start moving +that is."</p> + +<p>Jason took a quick look through his workshop to make sure everything +they might need was already loaded, then reluctantly climbed aboard +himself. He blew out the lantern and they sat there in the darkness, +their faces lit from below by the flickering glow from the firebox, +while the tension mounted. There was no way to measure time since each +second took an eternity to drag by.</p> + +<p>The walls of the worksite cut off any view of the outside and within a +few moments imagination had peopled the night with silent hordes +creeping towards them, huddling about the thin barrier of leather, +ready to swoop down and crush them in an instant.</p> + +<p>"Let's run for it," Snarbi gurgled and tried to jump from the +platform. "We're trapped here, we'll never get away...."</p> + +<p>Jason tripped him and knocked him flat, then pounded his head against +the floor planks a few times until he quieted.</p> + +<p>"I can sympathize with that poor man," Mikah said severely. "You are a +brute, Jason, to punish him for his natural feelings. Cease your +sadistic attack and join me in a prayer."</p> + +<p>"If this poor man you are so sorry for had simply done his duty and +watched the boiler, we would all be safely away from here by now. And +if you have enough breath for a prayer, put it to better use by +blowing into the firebox. It's not going to be wishes or prayers that +gets us out of here, just a head of steam."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>A howled battlecry was echoed by massed voices and a squad of +D'zertanoj burst in through the entrance, and at the same instant the +rear of the leather wall went down and more armed men swarmed over it. +The immobile <i>caroj</i> was trapped between the two groups of attackers +who laughed happily as they charged. Jason cursed and lit four +molotails at the same time and hurled them two and two in opposite +directions. Before they hit he had jumped to the steam valve and wound +it open; with a hissing clank the <i>caroj</i> shuddered and got underway.</p> + +<p>For the moment the attackers were held back by the walls of flame and +screamed even louder as the machine moved away at right angles from +between their two groups. The air whistled with crossbow bolts, but +most were badly aimed and only a few thudded into the baggage. With +each revolution of the wheels their speed picked up and when they hit +the walls the hides parted with a creaking snap. Strips of leather +whipped at them, then they were through.</p> + +<p>The shouts and the fires grew dimmer behind them as they streaked down +the valley at a suicidal pace, hissing, rattling and crashing over the +bumps. Jason clung to the tiller and shouted for Mikah to come relieve +him, since if he let go of the thing they would turn and crash in an +instant, and as long as he held it he couldn't cut down the steam. +Some of this finally penetrated to Mikah because he crawled forward +grasping desperately to every hand-hold until he crouched beside +Jason.</p> + +<p>"Grab this tiller and hold it straight and steer around anything big +enough to see."</p> + +<p>As soon as the steering was taken over Jason worked his way back to +the engine and throttled down; they slowed to a clanking walk then +stopped completely. Ijale moaned and Jason felt as if every inch of +his body had been beaten with hammers. There was no sign of pursuit +since it would be at least an hour before they could raise steam in +the <i>caroj</i> and no one on foot could have possibly matched their +headlong pace. The lantern he had used earlier had vanished during the +wild ride so Jason dug out another one of his own construction.</p> + +<p>"On your feet, Snarbi," he ordered. "I've cracked us all out of +slavery so now it is time for you to do some of the guiding that you +were telling me about. Walk ahead with this light and pick out a nice +smooth track going in the right direction. I never did have a chance +to build headlights for this machine so you will have to do instead."</p> + +<p>Snarbi climbed down unsteadily and walked out in front. Jason opened +the valve a bit and they clattered forward on his trail as Mikah +turned the tiller to follow. Ijale crawled over and settled herself +against Jason's side, shivering with cold and fright. He patted her +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Relax," he said, "from now on this is just a pleasure trip."</p> + + +<h2>X</h2> +<p>They were six days out of Putl'ko and their supplies were almost +exhausted. The country, once they were away from the mountains, became +more fertile, an undulating pampas of grass with enough streams and +herds of beasts to assure that they did not starve. It was fuel that +mattered, and that afternoon Jason had opened their last jar. They +stopped a few hours before dark since their fresh meat was gone, and +Snarbi took the crossbow and went out to shoot something for the pot. +Since he was the only one who could handle the clumsy weapon with any +kind of skill in spite of his ocular deficiencies, and who knew about +the local game, this task had been assigned to him. With longer +contact his fear of the <i>caroj</i> had lessened, and his self-esteem rose +at his recognized ability as a hunter. He strolled arrogantly out into +the knee-high grass, crossbow over his shoulder, whistling tunelessly +through his teeth. Jason stared after him and once again felt a +growing unease.</p> + +<p>"I don't trust that wall-eyed mercenary, I don't trust him for one +second," he muttered.</p> + +<p>"Were you talking to me?" Mikah asked.</p> + +<p>"I wasn't but I might as well now. Have you noticed anything +interesting about the country we have been passing through, anything +different?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. It is a wilderness, untouched by the hand of man."</p> + +<p>"Then you must be blind, because I have been seeing things the last +two days, and I know just as little about woodcraft as you do. Ijale," +he called, and she looked up from the boiler over which she was +heating a thin stew of their last <i>krenoj</i>. "Leave that stuff, it +tastes just as bad whatever is done to it, and if Snarbi has any luck +we'll be having roast in any case. Tell me, have you seen anything +strange or different about the land we passed through today."</p> + +<p>"Nothing strange, just signs of people. Twice we passed places where +the grass was flat and branches broken as if a <i>caroj</i> passed two or +three days ago, maybe more. And once there was a place where someone +had built a cooking fire, but that was very old."</p> + +<p>"Nothing to be seen, Mikah?" Jason asked with raised eyebrows. "See +what a lifetime of <i>krenoj</i> hunting can do for the sense of +observation and terrain."</p> + +<p>"I am no savage. You cannot expect me to look out for that sort of +thing."</p> + +<p>"I don't. I have learned to expect very little from you beside +trouble. Only now I am going to need your help. This is Snarbi's last +night of freedom whether he knows it or not, and I don't want him +standing guard tonight, so you and I will split the shift."</p> + +<p>Mikah was astonished. "I do not understand. What do you mean this is +his last night of freedom?"</p> + +<p>"It should be obvious by now—even to you—after seeing how the social +ethic works on this planet. What did you think we were going to do +when we came to Appsala—follow Snarbi like sheep to the slaughter? I +have no idea what he is planning. I just know he must be planning +something. When I ask him about the city he only answers in +generalities. Of course he is a hired mercenary who wouldn't know too +much of the details, but he must know a lot more than he is telling +us. He says we are still four days away from the city. My guess is +that we are no more than one or two. In the morning I intend to grab +him and tie him up, then swing over to those hills there and find a +place to hole up. I'll fix some chains for Snarbi so he can't get +away, then I'll do a scout of the city...."</p> + +<p>"You are going to chain this poor man, make a slave of him for no +reason!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to make a slave of him, just chain him to make sure he +doesn't lead us into some trap that will benefit him. This souped-up +<i>caroj</i> is valuable enough to tempt any of the locals, and if he can +sell me as an engine-mechanic slave his fortune is made."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"I will not hear this!" Mikah stormed. "You condemn the man on no +evidence at all, just because of your nasty minded suspicions. Judge +not lest ye be judged yourself! And you play the hypocrite as well, +because I well remember your telling me that a man is innocent until +proven guilty."</p> + +<p>"Well this man is guilty, if you want to put it that way, guilty of +being a member of this broken down society, which means that he will +always act in certain ways at certain times. Haven't you learned +anything about these people yet? Ijale!" She looked up from contented +munching on a <i>krenoj</i>, obviously not listening to the argument. "Tell +me, what is your opinion? We are coming soon to a place where Snarbi +has friends, or people who will help him. What do you think he will +do?"</p> + +<p>"Say hello to the people he knows? Maybe they will give him a +<i>krenoj</i>." She smiled in satisfaction at her answer and took another +bite.</p> + +<p>"That's not quite what I had in mind," Jason said patiently. "What if +we three are with him when we come to the people, and the people see +us and the <i>caroj</i>...."</p> + +<p>She sat up, alarmed. "We can't go with him! If he has people there +they will fight us, make us slaves, take the <i>caroj</i>. You must kill +Snarbi at once."</p> + +<p>"Bloodthirsty heathen...." Mikah began in his best denunciatory voice, +but quit when he saw Jason pick up a heavy hammer.</p> + +<p>"Do you understand yet?" Jason asked. "By tying up Snarbi I'm only +conforming to a local code of ethic, like saluting in the army or not +eating with your fingers in polite society. In fact I'm being a little +slipshod, since by local custom I should kill him before he can make +us trouble."</p> + +<p>"It cannot be, I cannot believe it. You cannot judge and condemn a man +upon such flimsy evidence."</p> + +<p>"I'm not condemning him," Jason said with growing irritation, "Just +making sure that he can't cause me any trouble. You don't have to +agree with me to help me, just don't get in my way. And split the +guard with me tonight. Whatever I do in the morning will be on my +shoulders and no concern of yours."</p> + +<p>"He is returning," Ijale hissed, and a moment later Snarbi came up +through the high grass.</p> + +<p>"Got a <i>cervo</i>," he announced proudly, and dropped the animal down +before them. "Cut him up, makes good chops and roast. We eat tonight."</p> + +<p>He was completely innocent and without guile and the only thing guilty +about him was his shifty gaze which could be blamed completely on his +crossed eyes. Jason wondered for a second if his assessment of the +danger was correct, then remembered where he was and lost his doubts. +Snarbi would be committing no crime if he tried to kill or enslave +them, just doing what any ordinary, decent slave-holding barbarian +would do in his place. Jason searched through his tool box for some +rivets that could be used to fasten the leg irons on the man.</p> + +<p>They had a filling dinner and the others turned in at dusk and were +quickly asleep. Jason, tired from the labors of the trip and heavy +with food, forced himself to remain awake, trying to keep alert for +trouble both from within and from without. When he became too sleepy +he paced around the camp until the cold drove him back to the shelter +of the still-warm boiler. Above him the stars wheeled slowly and when +a prominent one reached the zenith he estimated it was midnight, or a +bit after. He shook Mikah awake.</p> + +<p>"You're on now. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything stirring and +don't forget a careful watch there," he jerked his thumb at Snarbi's +silent form. "Wake me up at once if there's anything suspicious."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Sleep dropped like a heavy curtain and Jason barely stirred until the +first light of dawn touched the sky. Only the brighter stars were +visible on the eastern horizon and he could see a ground fog rising +from the grass around them. Near him were the huddled forms of the two +sleepers and the farthest one shifted in his sleep and he realized it +was Mikah.</p> + +<p>Sleep fell away instantly and he bounded out of his skin covers and +grabbed the other man by the shoulders. "What are you doing asleep?" +he raged. "You were supposed to be on guard."</p> + +<p>Mikah opened his eyes and blinked. "I was on guard, but towards +morning Snarbi awoke and offered to take his turn. I could not refuse +him...."</p> + +<p>"You couldn't WHAT? After what I said—"</p> + +<p>"That was why. I could not judge an innocent man guilty and be a party +to your unfair action. Therefore, I left him on guard."</p> + +<p>"You did, did you?" Jason grated with rage and pulled an unfelt +handful of hair from his newgrown beard. "Then where is he? Do you see +anyone on guard?"</p> + +<p>Mikah looked in a careful circle and saw only the two of them and the +wakening Ijale. "He seems to have gone. He has proven his +untrustworthiness and in the future we will not allow him to stand +guard."</p> + +<p>Jason raged, drew his foot back for a kick in the local reflex then +realized he had no time for such indulgences and dived for the +steamobile. The firelighter worked at the first shot, for a rare +change, and he lit the boiler. It roared merrily but when he tapped +the indicator he saw the fuel was almost gone. There would be enough +left in the last jug to take them to safety before whatever trouble +Snarbi was planning arrived. But the jug was gone.</p> + +<p>"That tears it," Jason said resignedly after a hectic search of the +<i>caroj</i> and the surrounding plain. The water-of-power had vanished +with Snarbi who, afraid as he was of the steam engine, apparently knew +enough from observing Jason fueling the thing that it could not move +without the vital liquid. An empty feeling of resignation had replaced +Jason's first rage: he should have known better than to trust Mikah +with anything, particularly when it involved an ethical point. He +stared at the man, now calmly eating a bit of cold roast and marveled +at the unruffled calm. "This doesn't bother you, the fact that you +have condemned us all to slavery again?"</p> + +<p>"I did what was right, I had no other choice. We must live as moral +creatures or sink to the level of the animals."</p> + +<p>"But when you live with people who behave like animals—how do you +survive?</p> + +<p>"You live as they do—as you do, Jason," he said with majestic +judgment, "twisting and turning with fear and unable to avoid your +fate no matter how you squirm. Or you live as I have done, as a man of +conviction, knowing what is right and not letting your head be turned +by the petty needs of the day. And if one lives this way one can die +happy."</p> + +<p>"Then die happy!" Jason snarled and reached for his sword, but settled +back again glumly before he picked it up. "To think that I ever +thought I could teach you anything about the reality of existence here +when you have never experienced reality before nor ever will until the +day you die. You carry your own attitudes, which are your reality, +around with you all the time, and they are more solid to you than this +ground we are sitting upon."</p> + +<p>"For once we are in agreement, Jason. I have tried to open your eyes +to the true light, but you turn away and will not see. You ignore the +Eternal Law for the exigencies of the moment and are, therefore, +damned."</p> + +<p>The pressure indicator on the boiler hissed and popped out, but the +fuel level was at the absolute bottom.</p> + +<p>"Grab some food for breakfast, Ijale," Jason said, "and get away from +this machine. The fuel is gone and it's finished."</p> + +<p>"I shall make a bundle to carry, we will escape on foot."</p> + +<p>"No, that's out of the question. Snarbi knows this country and he knew +we would find out that he was missing at dawn. Whatever kind of +trouble he is bringing is already on the way and we wouldn't be able +to escape on foot. So we might as well save our energy. But they +aren't getting my handmade, super-charged steamobile!" he added with +sudden vehemence, grabbing up the crossbow. "Back both of you, far +back. They'll make a slave of me for my talents, but no free samples +go with it. If they want one of these hot-rod steam wagons, they are +going to have to pay for it!"</p> + +<p>Jason lay down flat at the maximum range of the crossbow and his third +quarrel hit the boiler. It went up with a most satisfactory bang and +small pieces of metal and wood rained down all around. In the distance +he heard shouting and the barking of dogs.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image_013.jpg" width="300" height="634" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>When he stood he could see a distant line of men advancing through the +tall grass and when they were closer large dogs were also visible, +tugging at their leashes. Though they must have come far in a few +hours they approached at a steady trot, experienced runners, in thin +leather garments each carrying a short, laminated bow and a full +quiver of arrows. They swooped up in a semicircle, their great hounds +slavering to be loosed, and stopped when the three strangers were +within bow range. They notched their arrows and waited with alert +patience, staying well clear of the smoking ruins of the caroj, until +Snarbi finally staggered up half supported by two other runners.</p> + +<p>"You now belong to ... the Hertug Persson ... and are his slaves.... +What happened to the <i>caroj</i>?" He screamed this last when he spotted +the smoking wreck and would have collapsed except for the sustaining +arms. Evidently the new slaves decreased in value with the loss of the +machine. He stumbled over to it and, when none of the soldiers would +help him, gathered up what he could find of Jason's artifacts and +tools. When he had bundled them up, and the foot cavalry had seen that +he suffered no injury from the contact, they reluctantly agreed to +carry them. One of the soldiers, identical in dress with the others, +seemed to be in charge, and when he signaled a return they closed in +on the three prisoners and nudged them to their feet with drawn bows.</p> + +<p>"I'm coming, I'm coming," Jason said, gnawing on a bone, "but I'm +going to finish my breakfast first. I see an endless vista of <i>krenoj</i> +stretching out before me and intend to enjoy this last meal before +entering servitude."</p> + +<p>The lead soldiers looked confused and turned to their officer for +orders. "Who is this?" he asked Snarbi, pointing at the still seated +Jason. "Is there any reason why I should not kill him."</p> + +<p>"You can't!" Snarbi choked, and turned a dirty shade of white. "He is +the one who built the devil-wagon and knows all of its secrets. Hertug +Persson will torture him to build another."</p> + +<p>Jason wiped his fingers on the grass and reluctantly stood. "All right +gentlemen, let's go. And on the way perhaps someone can tell me just +who Hertug Persson is and what is going to happen next."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," Snarbi bragged as they started the march. "He is +Hertug of the Perssonoj. I have fought for the Perssonoj and they knew +me and I saw the Hertug himself and he believed me. The Perssonoj are +very powerful in Appsala and have many powerful secrets, but not as +powerful as the Trozelligoj who have the secret of the <i>caroj</i> and the +<i>jetilo</i>. I knew I could ask any price of the Perssonoj if I brought +them the secret of the <i>caroj</i>. And I will." He trust his face close +to Jason's with a fierce grimace. "You will tell them the secret. I +will help them torture you until you tell."</p> + +<p>Jason put out his toe as they walked and Snarbi tripped over it and +when the traitor fell he walked the length of his body. None of the +soldiers paid any attention to this exchange and when they had passed +Snarbi staggered to his feet and tottered after them shouting curses. +Jason did not hear them, he had troubles enough as it was.</p> + + +<h2>XI</h2> +<p>Seen from the surrounding hills, Appsala looked like a burning city +that was being slowly washed into the sea. Only when they had come +closer was it clear that the smoke was from the multifold chimneys, +both large and small, that studded the buildings, and that the city +began at the shore and covered a number of islands in what must be a +shallow lagoon. Large sea-going ships were tied up at the seaward side +of the city and closer to the mainland smaller craft were being poled +through the canals. Jason searched anxiously for a spaceport or any +signs of interstellar culture but saw nothing. Then the hills +intervened as the trail cut off to one side and approached the sea +some distance from the city.</p> + +<p>A fair-sized sailing vessel was tied up at the end of a stone wharf, +obviously awaiting them, and the captives were tied hand and foot and +tossed into the hold. Jason managed to wriggle around until he could +get his eye to a crack between two badly fitting planks and recited a +running travelogue of the cruise, apparently for the edification of +his companions, but really for his own benefit since the sound of his +own voice always cheered and encouraged him.</p> + +<p>"Our voyage is nearing its close and before us opens up the romantic +and ancient city of Appsala, famed for its loathsome customs, +murderous natives and archaic sanitation facilities, of which this +watery channel this ship is now entering seems to be the major cloaca. +There are islands on both sides, the smaller ones covered with hovels +so decrepit that in comparison the holes in the ground of the humblest +animals appear to be palaces, while the larger islands appear to be +forts, each one walled and barbicaned and presenting a warlike face to +the world. There couldn't be that many forts in a town this size so I +am led to believe that each one is undoubtedly the guarded stronghold +of one of the tribes, groups or clans that our friend Judas told us +about. Look on these monuments to ultimate selfishness and beware: +this is the end product of the system that begins with slave-holders +like the former Ch'aka with their tribes of <i>krenoj</i> crackers, and +builds up through familiar hierarchies like the D'zertanoj and reaches +its zenith of depravity behind those strong walls. It is still +absolute power that rules absolutely, each man out for all that he can +get and the only way to climb being over the bodies of others, and all +physical discoveries and inventions being treated as private and +personal secrets to be hidden and used only for personal gain. Never +have I seen human greed and selfishness carried to such extremes and I +admire Homo sapiens' capacity to follow through on an idea, no matter +how it hurts."</p> + +<p>The ship lost way as it backed its sails and Jason fell from his +precarious perch into the stinking bilge. "The descent of man," he +muttered and inched his way out.</p> + +<p>Piles grated along the sides and with much shouting and cursed orders +the ship came to a halt. The hatch above was slid back and the three +captives were rushed to the deck. The ship was tied up to a dock in a +pool of water surrounded by buildings and high walls. Behind them a +large sea gate was just swinging shut, through which the ship had +entered from the canal. They could see no more because they were +pushed into a doorway and through halls and past guards until they +ended up in a large central room. It was unfurnished except for the +dais at the far end on which stood a large and rusty iron throne. The +man on the throne, undoubtedly the Hertug Persson, sported a +magnificent white beard and shoulder length hair, his nose was round +and red, his eyes blue and watery. He nibbled at a <i>krenoj</i> impaled +delicately on a two-tined iron fork.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Tell me," the Hertug shouted suddenly, "why you should not be killed +at once?"</p> + +<p>"We are your slaves, Hertug, we are your slaves," everyone in the room +shouted in unison, waving their hands in the air at the same time. +Jason missed the first chorus, but came in on the second. Only Mikah +did not join in the chant-and-wave, speaking instead in a solitary +voice after the pledge of allegiance was completed.</p> + +<p>"I am no man's slave."</p> + +<p>The commander of the soldiers swung his thick bow in a short arc that +terminated on the top of Mikah's head: he dropped stunned to the +floor.</p> + +<p>"You have a new slave, oh Hertug," the commander said.</p> + +<p>"Which is the one who knows the secrets of the <i>caroj</i>?" the Hertug +asked and Snarbi pointed at Jason.</p> + +<p>"Him there, oh mightiness. He can make <i>caroj</i> and he can make the +monster that burns and moves them, I know because I watched him do it. +He also made balls of fire that burned the D'zertanoj and many other +things. I brought him to be your slave so that he could make <i>caroj</i> +for the Perssonoj. Here are the pieces of the <i>caroj</i> we traveled in, +after it was consumed by its own fire." Snarbi shook the tools and +burnt fragments out onto the floor and the Hertug curled his lip at +them.</p> + +<p>"What proof is this?" he asked, and turned to Jason. "These things +mean nothing. How can you prove to me, slave, that you can do the +things he says?"</p> + +<p>Jason entertained briefly the idea to deny all knowledge of the +matter, which would be a neat revenge against Snarbi who would +certainly meet a sticky end for causing all this trouble for nothing, +but he discarded the thought as fast as it came. Partly for +humanitarian reasons, Snarbi could not help being what he was, but +mostly because he had no particular desire to be put to the question. +He knew nothing about the local torture methods, and he wanted to keep +it that way.</p> + +<p>"Proof is easy, Hertug of all the Perssonoj, because I know everything +about everything. I can build machines that walk, that talk, that run, +fly, swim, bark like a dog and roll on their backs."</p> + +<p>"You will build a <i>caroj</i> for me?"</p> + +<p>"It could be arranged, if you have the right kind of tools I could +use. But I must first know what is the specialty of your clan, if you +know what I mean. Like the Trozelligoj make <i>caroj</i> and the D'zertanoj +pump oil. What do your people do?"</p> + +<p>"You cannot know as much as you say if you do not know of the glories +of the Perssonoj!"</p> + +<p>"I come from a distant land and as you know news travels slowly around +these parts."</p> + +<p>"Not around the Perssonoj," the Hertug said scornfully and thumped his +chest. "We can talk across the width of the country and always know +where our enemies are. We can send magic on wires to kill, or magic to +make light in a glass ball or magic that will pluck the sword from an +enemy's hand and drive terror into his heart."</p> + +<p>"It sounds like your gang has the monopoly on electricity, which is +good to hear. If you have some heavy forging equipment...."</p> + +<p>"Stop!" the Hertug ordered. "Leave! Out—everyone except the +<i>sciuloj</i>. Not the new slave, he stays here," he shouted when the +soldiers grabbed Jason.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The room emptied and the handful of men who remained were all a little +long in the tooth and each wore a brazen, sun-burst type decoration on +his chest. They were undoubtedly adept in the secret electrical arts +and they fingered their weapons and grumbled with unconcealed anger at +Jason's forbidden knowledge. The Hertug signaled him to continue.</p> + +<p>"You used a sacred word. Who told it to you? Speak quickly or you will +be killed."</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you I knew everything? I can build a <i>caroj</i> and given +a little time I can improve on your electrical works, if your +technology is on the same level as the rest of this planet."</p> + +<p>"Do you know what lies behind the forbidden portal?" the Hertug asked, +pointing to a barred, locked and guarded door at the other end of the +room. "There is no way you can have seen what is there, but if you can +tell me what lies beyond it I will know you are the wizard that you +claim you are."</p> + +<p>"I have a very strange feeling that I have been over this ground once +before," Jason sighed. "All right, here goes. You people here make +electricity, maybe chemically, though I doubt if you would get enough +power that way, so you must have a generator of some sort. That will +be a big magnet, a piece of special iron that can pick up other iron, +and you spin it around fast next to some coils of wire and out comes +electricity. You pipe this through copper wire to whatever devices you +have, and they can't be very many. You say you talk across the +country. I'll bet you don't talk at all but send little clicks, dots +and dashes.... I'm right aren't I?" The foot shuffling and rising buzz +from the adepts was a sure sign that he was hitting close. "I have an +idea for you, I think I'll invent the telephone. Instead of the old +clikkety-clack how would you like to <i>really</i> talk across the country? +Speak into a gadget here and have your voice come out at the far end +of the wire?"</p> + +<p>The Hertug's piggy little eyes blinked greedily. "It is said that in +the old days this could be done, but we have tried and have failed. +Can you do this thing?"</p> + +<p>"I can—if we can come to an agreement first. But before I make any +promises I have to see your equipment."</p> + +<p>This brought the usual groans of complaint about secrecy, but in the +end avarice won over taboo and the door to the holy of holies was +opened for Jason while two of the <i>sciuloj</i>, with bared and ready +daggers, stood at his sides. At almost the same instant Jason looked +in through the door he heard the sound.</p> + +<p>Now the reaction of the human body, while remarkably fast, need +certain finite measures of time and have been measured over and over +again with a great deal of accuracy. The commands of the brain, speedy +as they may be, must be carried by sluggish nerves and put into +operation by inert lumps of muscle. Therefore to say that Jason's +reactions were instantaneous is to tell a lie, or at least exaggerate. +Only to his watchers did his actions appear to take place that fast; +they were older, and less alert, and had not had the advantage of +Pyrran survival training. So to their point of view the sacred portal +was opened and Jason vanished in a flurry of activity. Two lightning +blows sent his guardians spinning, and before they had fallen to the +floor their supposed captive was through the door and it was slammed +in their faces. Before the first dumfounded Persson could jump forward +the bolt grated home inside and the door was sealed.</p> + +<p>Things were a little more complex than that to Jason. When the door +opened he had had a good view of the inside of the room, of a slave +cranking the handle on a crude collection of junk that could only have +been a generator. Thick wires looped across the room from the thing to +a man who stood before some blades of copper pushing at them with a +wooden stick, while above his head fat sparks leaped the gap between +two brassy spheres. As if to complete this illustration for a +bronze-age edition of "First Steps in Electricity" another cable +twisted up from the spark gap and vanished out a small window. The +entire thing might have been labeled "How to Generate A Radio Signal +in the Crudest Manner." As Jason reached this conclusion in the +smallest fraction of a second, and at almost the very same instant, he +heard the sound.</p> + +<p>What he heard could have been distant thunder, an earthquake, a +volcano or some giant explosion. It rumbled and rolled, muffled by +distance, yet still clear. It resembled none of these things to Jason, +but made him think only of a high altitude rocket or jet, cleaving +through the atmosphere.</p> + +<p>It must have been the juxtaposition of these two things, occurring as +they did at the same time, the view of a radio transmitter, no matter +how crude, and the thought that there might be a civilized craft or +some kind up there containing men who would come to his aid if he +could only contact them. The idea was an insane one, but even as he +realized that fact he was through the door and bolting it behind him. +Perhaps he did it because he had been pushed around entirely too much +and felt like pushing someone else for a change. In any case it was +done, insane or not, and he might as well carry through.</p> + +<p>The generator slave looked up, startled, but when Jason glanced at him +he lowered his eyes and kept cranking. The man who had been working +the transmitter spun about, startled by the slam of the door and the +muffled pounding and shouts that followed instantly from the other +side. He groped for his dagger when he saw the stranger, but before it +was clear of the scabbard Jason was on him and after a few quick +Pyrran infighting blows the man lost all interest in what was +happening and slid to the floor. Jason straddled his body, picked the +stick up, nodded to the slave who began cranking faster, and began to +tap out a message.</p> + +<p>S-O-S ... S-O-S ... he sent first, then as fragments of code came back +to him he spelled out J-A-S-O-N D-A-L-T H-R-E.... N-E-E-D A-I-D.... +R-I-C-H.... R-E-W-A-R-D ... F-O-R ... H-E-L-P....</p> + +<p>He varied this a bit, repeated his name often, and tried other themes +appealing for off-world aid. It was a slim chance that he had heard a +rocket, and even slimmer chance that they would pick his message out +of the static if they happened to be listening. He had no evidence +that any off-worlders were in contact with this planet, merely hope. +He tapped on and the slave ground away industriously. His arm was +growing tired by the time the old guard in the other room found +something heavy enough to swing and broke the door down. Jason stopped +tapping and turned to face the apoplectic Hertug, rubbing his tired +wrist.</p> + +<p>"Your equipment works fine, though it could use a lot of +improvements."</p> + +<p>"Kill him.... Kill!" the Hertug sputtered.</p> + +<p>"Kill me and there goes your <i>caroj</i>, as well as your telephone system +and your only chance to wrap up all the industrial secrets in one big +bundle," Jason said, looking around for something heavy to swing.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>A gigantic explosion slammed into the room; a crack appeared in one +wall and dust floated down from the ceiling. There was a sound of +snapping small arms fire in the distance.</p> + +<p>"It worked!" Jason shouted with unrestrained glee and hurled a heavy +roll of wire at the startled men in the doorway and followed instantly +after it in a headlong dive. There was a flurry of action, most of the +damage being done by his boots, then he was through and running out of +the throne room with the men bellowing in pursuit.</p> + +<p>A small war seemed to be raging ahead, the sharp explosions of gunfire +being mixed with the heavier thud of bombs and grenades. Walls were +down, doors blasted open while confused soldiers rushed in panic +through the clouds of dust. One of them tried to stop Jason who kept +on going, carrying the man's club with him. Sunlight shone ahead and +he dived through a riven wall and landed, rolling in the open ground +next to the dock. A spaceship's lifeboat stood there, still glowing +hot from the speed of descent, and next to it stood Meta keeping up a +continuous fire with her gun, happily juggling micro-grenades with her +free hand.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_014.jpg" width="600" height="464" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"What were you waiting for," she snapped. "I have been in orbit over +this planet for a month now, waiting for some word from you. There are +dozens of radio transmitters on this continent and I have been +monitoring them all." She fired a long burst at an upper story where +some bowmen had been foolish enough to appear, then ran to Jason, eyes +wet with tears. "Oh, darling, I was so worried."</p> + +<p>She held him—with her grenade-throwing arm—and kissed him fiercely. +She kept her eyes open while she was doing this but only had to fire +once.</p> + +<p>"Jason!" a voice called and Ijale appeared, half-supporting the still +dazed Mikah.</p> + +<p>"Who is this?" Meta snapped, the chill back in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Why—just someone I know," Jason answered, smiling insincerely. "You +should recognize the man, he's the one who arrested me."</p> + +<p>"Here is a gun, you will want to kill him yourself."</p> + +<p>Jason took the gun, but used it to clear a nearby roof-top, the +powerful kick of the Pyrran automatic was like a caress on the heel of +his hand.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I want to kill him. He saved my life once, though he +has tried to lose it for me a dozen times since. Let's get upstairs to +the ship and I'll tell you about it. There are more healthy spots than +this to have a conversation."</p> + + +<h2>XII</h2> +<p>Washed, shaved, scrubbed, cleaned, filled with good food and slightly +awash with alcoholic drink, Jason collapsed into the acceleration +couch and firmly swore that life was worth living after all.</p> + +<p>"You can't appreciate the simple things of life until you have gone +without them for a while. Or the better things either." He reached out +and took Meta's hand. She pulled it away and fed more digits into the +computer.</p> + +<p>"How did you find me?" he asked, trying to discover a subject that she +might warm to.</p> + +<p>"That should be obvious. We saw the markings on the ship that took you +away and charted a directional trace before it went into jump-space. +We identified the markings and I went to Cassylia, but the ship had +never arrived there. I back-tracked the straight-line course and found +three possible planets near enough to have registered in the ship +during jump-space flight. Two are highly organized with modern +spaceports and would have known if the ship had landed. It hadn't. +Therefore you must have forced the ship down on the planet we just +left. And once you were there you would find one of the radios to send +a message. Which is what you did. It is obvious. Who is she?" The +final words were in a distinctly chillier tone of voice, and there +could be only one she, Ijale, who crouched across the room, obviously +unhappy and wide-eyed with fear at this voyage in a spaceship, not +understanding the language the others spoke.</p> + +<p>"I've told you before—just a friend. She was with us, and helped us, +too. I couldn't let her go back to the life in the desert, it's more +brutal than you can possibly imagine. There is an entire planetful of +slaves back there, and of course I can't save them all. But I can do +this much, take out the one person there who would rather see me live +than die."</p> + +<p>"What do you intend to do with her?" The sub-zero temperature of +Meta's voice left no doubt as to what she wanted to do with her. Jason +had already given this a good deal of thought, and if Ijale was going +to live much longer she had to be separated as soon as possible from +the deadly threat of female Pyrran jealousy.</p> + +<p>"We stop at the next civilized planet and let her off. I have enough +money to leave a deposit in a bank that will last her for years. Make +arrangements for it to be paid out only a bit at a time, so no matter +how she is cheated she will still have enough. I'm not going to worry +about her, if she was able to survive in the <i>krenoj</i> legion she can +get along well anywhere on a settled world."</p> + +<p>He could hear the complaints on when he broke the news to Ijale, but +it was for her own survival.</p> + +<p>"I shall care for and lead her in the paths of righteousness," a +remembered voice spoke from the doorway. Mikah stood there, clutching +to the jamb, a turban of bandages on his head.</p> + +<p>"That's a wonderful idea," Jason agreed enthusiastically. He turned to +Ijale and spoke in her own language. "Did you hear that? Mikah is +going to take you home with him and look after you. I'll arrange for +some money to be paid to you for all your needs, he'll explain to you +what money is. I want you to listen to him carefully, note exactly +what he says, then do the exact opposite. You must promise me you will +do that and never break your word. In that way you may make some +mistakes and will be wrong sometimes, but all the rest of the time +things will go very smoothly."</p> + +<p>"I cannot leave you! Take me with you—I'll be your slave always!" she +wailed.</p> + +<p>"What did she say?" Meta snapped, catching some of the meaning.</p> + +<p>"You are evil, Jason," Mikah declaimed, getting the needle back into +the familiar groove. "She will obey you, I know that, so no matter how +I labor she will always do as you say."</p> + +<p>"I sincerely hope so," Jason said fervently. "One has to be born into +your particular brand of illogic to get any pleasure from it. The rest +of us are happier bending a bit under the impact of existence, and +exacting a mite more pleasure from the physical life around us."</p> + +<p>"Evil I say, and you shall not go unpunished." His hand appeared from +behind the door jamb and it held a pistol that he had found below. "I +am taking command of this ship. You will secure the two women so that +they can cause no trouble, then we will proceed to Cassylia for your +trial."</p> + +<p>Meta had her back turned to Mikah and was sitting in the control chair +a good five meters from him with her hands filled with navigational +notes. She slowly raised her head and looked at Jason and a smile +broke across her face.</p> + +<p>"You said once you didn't want him killed."</p> + +<p>"I still don't want him killed, but I also have no intention of going +to Cassylia." He echoed her smile and turned away.</p> + +<p>He sighed happily and there was a sudden rush of feet behind his back. +No shots were fired but a hoarse scream, a thud and a sharp cracking +noise told him that Mikah had lost his last argument.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Ethical Engineer, by Henry Maxwell Dempsey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ETHICAL ENGINEER *** + +***** This file should be named 30964-h.htm or 30964-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/9/6/30964/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Ethical Engineer + +Author: Henry Maxwell Dempsey + +Illustrator: John Schoenherr + +Release Date: January 14, 2010 [EBook #30964] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ETHICAL ENGINEER *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction July and + August 1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the + U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + THE ETHICAL ENGINEER + + + That mores is strictly a matter of local custom cannot be + denied. But that ethics is pure opinion also...? Maybe there + are times for murder, and theft and slavery.... + + + BY HARRY HARRISON + + + Illustrated by John Schoenherr + + + [Illustration] + + + All nature is but art, unknown to thee; + All chance, direction which thou canst not see; + All discord, harmony not understood; + All partial evil, universal good: + And, spite of pride, in erring reasons spite, + One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right. + + Alexander Pope + _Essay on Man_ + + * * * * * + + + + +I + +Jason dinAlt looked unhappily at the two stretchers as they were +carried by. "Are they at it again?" he asked. + +Brucco nodded, the scowl permanently ingrained now on his hawklike +face. "We have only one thing to be thankful for. That is--so far at +least--they haven't used any weapons on each other." + +Jason looked down unbelievingly at the shredded clothing, crushed +flesh and broken bones. "The absence of weapons doesn't appear to make +much difference when two Pyrrans start fighting. It seems impossible +that this damage could be administered bare-handed." + +"Well it was. Even you should know that much about Pyrrus by now. We +take our fighting very seriously. But they never think how much more +work it makes for me. Now I have to patch these two idiots up and try +to find room for them in the ward." He stalked away, irritated and +annoyed as always. Jason usually laughed at the doctor's irascible +state, but not today. + +Today, and for some days past, he had found himself living with a +persistent feeling of irritation, that had arrived at the same time as +his discovery that it is far easier to fight a war than to administer +a peace. The battle at the perimeter still continued, since the massed +malevolence of the Pyrran life forms were not going to call a truce +simply because the two warring groups of humans had done so. There was +battle on the perimeter and a continual feeling of unrest inside the +city. So far there had been very little traffic between the city +Pyrrans and those living outside the walls, and what contact there had +been usually led to the kind of violence he had just witnessed. The +only minor note of hope in this concert of discord was the fact that +no one had died--as yet--in any of these fearsome hand-to-hand +conflicts. In spite of the apparent deadliness of the encounters all +of the Pyrrans seemed to understand that, despite past hatreds, they +were all really on the same side. A distant rumble from the clouded +sky broke through his thoughts. + +"There is a ship on the radar," Meta said, coming out of the +ground-control office and squinting up at the overcast. "I wonder if +it is that ecology expedition that Brucco arranged--or the cargo ship +from Ondion?" + +"We'll find out in a few minutes," Jason said, happy to forget his +troubles for the moment in frank admiration, since just looking at +Meta was enough to put a golden edge on this gloom-filled day. +Standing there, head back searching the sky, she managed to be +beautiful even in the formless Pyrran coverall. Jason put his arms +around her waist and exacted a great deal of pleasure from kissing the +golden length of her up-stretched throat. + +"Oh, Jason ... not now," she said in exasperation. Pyrran minds, by +necessity, run along one track at a time, and at the present moment +she was thinking about the descending spaceship. With a quick motion, +scarcely aware of her action, she pulled his hands from her and pushed +him away, an easy enough thing for a Pyrran girl to do. But in doing +so she half fractured one of his wrists, numbed the other, and knocked +Jason to the ground. + +"Darling ... I'm sorry," she gasped, suddenly realizing what she had +done, bending quickly to help him up. + +"Get away, you lady weight-lifter," he growled, pushing aside the +proffered hand and struggling to his feet. "When are you going to +realize that I'm only human, not made of chrome steel bars like the +rest of your people...." He stifled the rest of his words in disgust, +at himself, his temper, this deadly planet and the cantankerousness of +its citizens that was scratching away at his nerves. He turned and +stamped away, angry at himself for taking out his vile mood on Meta, +but still too annoyed to make peace. + +Meta watched him leave, trying to say something that would end this +foolish quarrel, but unable to. The largest blank in the Pyrran +personality was an almost complete lack of knowledge of human nature, +and her struggle to fill in the gaps--gaps she was only just beginning +to realize existed--was a difficult one. The stronger emotions of hate +and fear were no strangers to her; but for the first time she was +discovering how difficult and complex was this unusual feeling of +love. She let Jason go because she was incapable of any other action. +Of course she could stop him by force, but if she had learned anything +in the past few weeks, it was the discovery that this was one area +where he was very sensitive. There was no doubt that she was far +stronger than he--physically--and he did not like to be reminded about +it. She went back into the ground-control room, almost eager to deal +with the impersonal faces of the dials and scopes, material and +unchanging entities that posed no conflicting problems. + + * * * * * + +Jason stood at the edge of the field and watched the ship come in for +a landing, his anger forgotten temporarily in the presence of this +break in routine. Perhaps this was the shipful of scientific eggheads +that Brucco was expecting; he hoped so. It would be a pleasant treat +to have a conversation with someone about a topic more universal than +the bore dimensions of guns. With practiced eye he watched the landing +which was a little sloppy, either a new pilot or an old one who didn't +care much. It was a small ship so not many people would be aboard. +Then the spacer turned for a moment, in a landing correction, and he +had a quick glimpse of a serial number and tantalizingly familiar +insignia on its stern--where had he seen that before? + +The ship touched down and the flaring rockets died. There was only the +click of cooling metal from the ship: no one emerged, nor did any of +the Pyrrans seem interested enough in the newcomer to approach it. +That must mean that no one had any business with it, and, of course, +no curiosity either, for this along with imagination was in very short +supply on the war-torn planet. Since no one else was making any moves, +Jason went forward to investigate for himself. + +A stingwing that had escaped the perimeter guards dived towards him +and he blasted it automatically with his gun. The corpse thudded to +the ground and the soil churned around it as the insectile scavengers +fought for the flesh; only bare bones remained by the time he had +taken two paces. + +A muffled whine of motors told him that the lower hatch was opening, +and Jason watched as a hairline crack appeared in the thick metal, +then widened as the heavy door ground outwards. Through the opening he +had a glimpse of a figure muffled in a heavy-duty spacesuit. That must +be Meta's work, she would have contacted the ship by radio while it +was on its way down and explained the standing orders that no +off-worlders were to be allowed out of their ships unless wearing the +heaviest armor. Since the armed truce between the human inhabitants +there had been a lessening of the relentless warfare the Pyrran life +forms waged against the city, but only to a slight degree. Deadly +beasts still abounded, and the air was thick with toxic diseases. A +stranger, unprotected, would be ill in five minutes, dead within +ten--or much sooner if a horndevil or other beast got to him in the +interval. + +Jason felt a justified pride that he could walk this planet under his +own power. The natives, adapted to the deadliness and heavy gravity +since birth, were still his superiors, but he was the only off-worlder +who could stand the dangers of Pyrrus. His gun whined out of his power +holster into his waiting hand as he searched for some target to use +his talents on. An armored piece of nastiness, with a lot of legs, was +crawling into hiding under a rock and he blasted it neatly with a +single shot. The gun snapped back into the holster and he turned to +the open door of the spacer, his morale greatly improved. + + * * * * * + +"Welcome to Pyrrus," he told the ungainly figure that clumped out of +the ship. There was a hefty maser-projector clutched in the armored +gloves and whoever was inside the suit, the face was invisible behind +the thick and tinted faceplate, seemed exceedingly nervous, turning to +look in all directions. + +"Don't worry," Jason said, fighting to keep a tone of smug +satisfaction out of his voice, "I'll take care of things for you. I +don't know what kind of horror stories you may have heard about +Pyrrus--but they're all true. That's a nice looking heat ray you have +there, but I doubt if you could move fast enough to use it." + +The figure lowered the gun and fumbled for a switch on the front of +the space armor, it clicked and a speaker diaphragm rustled. + +"I'm looking for a man called Jason dinAlt. Can you tell me if he is +on this planet or if he has left?" + +It was impossible to tell the speaker's tone from the rasping +diaphragm, and no face was visible that might betray an emotion. This +was the moment when Jason should have shown caution, and have +remembered that there were thousands of policemen scattered across the +galaxy who would heartily enjoy putting him under arrest. Yet he +couldn't imagine any of them going to the trouble of following him +here. And certainly there could be very little danger from a +spacesuited man with a rifle, not to the man who had learned to take +Pyrrus on its own terms, and live. + +"I'm Jason dinAlt," he said. "What do you want me for?" + +"I've come a long way to find you," the speaker rasped. "Now"--the +gloved hand pointed--"what is THAT?" + +Jason's reactions were instantaneous, conditioned to move without +thought. He wheeled, crouched, the gun in his hand and finger +quivering lightly on the trigger, pointed in the indicated direction. +There was nothing unusual to be seen, just an empty field and the +control building at the edge. + +"Whatever are you talking about ..." Jason asked, then stopped as it +became very obvious what the stranger had been talking about. The +large, flanged mouth of the maser-projector ground into the small of +his back. His own gun snapped halfway out of its holster, buzzed +briefly, then slipped back as he realized his position. + +"That's much better," the stranger said. "If you attempt to move, +turn, lower your gun hand or do anything I don't like I'll pull this +trigger and...." + +"I know," Jason sighed, careful to stand with every muscle frozen. +"You will pull the trigger and burn a nice round hole through my +backbone and intestines. But I would just like to know why? Who is it +that is so interested in my worthless old carcass that they were +willing to pay interstellar freight charges to send you and that +oversize toaster all the way here in order to threaten it?" + +Jason was only talking to kill time, since he knew this situation +would not stay static for long, not on Pyrrus. He was completely right +because before he had finished the ground-control door burst open and +Meta ran out, circling to the left. At the same moment Kerk appeared +from behind the building, his Pyrran reflexes absorbing the situation +in an instant and with no perceptible delay he ran in the opposite +direction. Both Pyrrans had their guns ready and closed in with the +merciless precision of trained predators. + +"Tell them to stop," the suit speaker grated at Jason. "I'll shoot you +if they try anything." + +"Hold it!" Jason shouted, and the running Pyrrans stopped instantly. +"Don't come any closer and whatever you do don't shoot." He +half-turned his head and spoke in a quieter voice to the suited figure +behind him. "Now you see where you stand. Lower the gun and get back +into your ship, I guarantee you'll stay alive if you do that at once." + +"Don't try and buff me, dinAlt," the maser barrel pushed harder +against his back. "You are my prisoner and your friends can't save +you. Start walking backwards now--I'll stay right behind you." + +"Look," Jason said calmly, not permitting himself to get angry. "Those +are _Pyrrans_ out there. Either of them could kill you so quickly that +you couldn't possibly have time to pull that trigger. I'm saving your +life--though I don't know why I'm bothering--so be a good boy and get +back into your ship and go home and we'll give you a T for trying." + +"Could I have him, please Kerk?" Meta called out, the deadly +assumption of her remark punctuating Jason's logic. "After all, Jason +means more to me than you. Shall I kill him yet, Jason?" + +"Just shoot his gun hand off, Meta," Kerk told her, in the same +emotionless tone. "I want to know who this is, why he came here, +before he dies." + +"Get back into your ship, you fool," Jason hissed. "You've got only +seconds to live." + +"Start walking backwards," his captor said. "You are under arrest. +I'll count to three, then shoot. One ... two...." + +Jason shuffled a cautious step to the rear and the Pyrran guns snapped +up at the same instant, extended at arm's length. Jason was so close +to the man in the spacesuit that the guns could have been pointed at +him, the eyes sighting carefully over the dark muzzles. + +"Don't shoot!" Jason shouted to his friends. + +"Don't worry," Kerk called back. "We won't hit you." + +"I know that--it's this idiot here that I'm worrying about. You just +can't shoot him for trying to do his job. In fact I'm surprised to +find out that there is one honest cop left on any of the places I've +been." + +"Don't talk so crazy," Meta said with maddening sweetness. "We'll kill +him, Jason. We'll take care of you." + +Anger hit him. "You will NOT take care of me because I can take care +of myself. Either of you kill him and so help me I'll kill you." Jason +shuffled backwards faster now until his legs hit the lower edge of the +hatch. He clambered into it and burst out laughing at the dumfounded +expressions of his friends' faces. The laugh died as something pricked +the back of his neck. The pressure of the gun was gone and he swung +around, surprised to see the floor rushing up towards him, but before +it struck him blackness descended. + +Consciousness returned, accompanied by a thudding headache that made +Jason wince when he moved, and when he opened his eyes the pain of the +light made him screw them shut again. Whatever the drug was that had +knocked him out, it was fast working, and seemed to be oxidized just +as quickly. The headache faded away to a dull throb and he could open +his eyes without feeling that needles were being driven into them. He +was seated in a standard spacechair that had been equipped with wrist +and ankle locks, now well secured. A man sat in the chair next to him, +intent on the spaceship's controls; the ship was in flight and well +into space. The stranger was working the computer, cutting a tape to +control their flight in jump-space. + +Jason took the opportunity to study the man. He seemed to be a little +old for a policeman, though on second thought it was really hard to +tell his age. His hair was gray and cropped as short as a skull cap, +but the wrinkles on his leathery skin seemed to have been caused more +by exposure than advanced years. Tall and firmly erect, he appeared +underweight at first glance, until Jason realized this effect was +caused by the total absence of any excess flesh. It was as though he +had been cooked by the sun and leeched by the rain until only bone, +tendon and muscle were left. When he turned his head the muscles stood +out like cables under the skin of his neck and his hands at the +controls were the browned talons of some bird. A hard finger pressed +the switch that actuated the jump control, and he turned away from the +board to face Jason. + +"I see you are awake. It was a mild drug. I did not enjoy using it, +but it was the safest way." + +When he talked his jaw opened and shut with the seriousness of a bank +vault. The deep-set and cold blue eyes stared fixedly from under dark +brows. Jason stared back just as steadily and chuckled. + +"I suppose you didn't enjoy using the maser-projector either, nor +threatening to cook holes in me. For a cop you seem to be very tender +hearted." + +"I did it only to save your friends. I did not want them to get hurt." + +"Get hurt!" Jason roared with laughter. "Space-cop, don't you have any +idea what Pyrrans are like, or what kind of a setup you were walking +into? Don't you realize that I saved your life--though I really don't +know why. Call me a natural humanitarian. You may have a swollen head +and a ready trigger-finger, but you were so far out of your class that +you just weren't in the race. They could have blasted you into pieces, +then shot the pieces into smaller pieces, while you were still +thinking about pulling the trigger. You should just thank me for being +your savior." + +"So you are a liar as well as a thief," Jason's captor answered with +no change of expression. "You attempt to play on my sympathies to gain +your freedom. Why should I believe this story? I came to arrest you, +threatening to kill you if you didn't submit, and your friends were +there ready to defend you. Why should you attempt to save my life? It +does not make sense." He turned back to the controls to make an +adjustment. + +[Illustration: Mikah Samon] + +It didn't make sense, Jason agreed completely. Why had he saved this +oaf who meant nothing to him? It was not an easy question to answer, +though it had seemed so right at the time. If only Meta hadn't said +that they would take care of him; he knew they could and was tired of +it. He could take care of himself: he felt the anger rising again at +the remembered words. Was that the only reason he had let this cop +capture him? To show the Pyrrans that he was able to control his own +destiny? Was the human ego such a pitiable thing that it had to keep +reassuring itself of its own independence or lie down on its back and +curl up its toes? + +Apparently it was. At least his was. The years had taught him a +certain insight into his own personality and he realized that his +greedy little subconscious had collected all the cues and signals from +the encounter at the spaceport and goaded him into a line of action +that looked uncomfortably like suicide. The arrival of the stranger, +the threat to himself, the automatic assumption by the Pyrrans that +they would take care of him. Apparently his ego and his subconscious +felt that he had been taken care of too long. They had managed to get +him into this spot from which he could only be extricated by his own +talents, far away from Pyrrus and the pressures that had been weighing +on him so long. + +He took a deep breath and smiled. It wasn't such a bad idea after all. +Stupid in retrospect, but the stupidity could hopefully be kept in the +past. Now he had to prove that there was something other than a death +wish in his subconscious flight from Pyrrus, and he must find a way to +reverse positions with this cop, whoever he was. Which meant that he +had to find out a little more about the man before making any plans. + + * * * * * + +"I'm afraid you have the advantage of me, officer. How about telling +me who you are and showing me a warrant or something under which you +are performing this deed of interstellar justice." + +"I am Mikah Samon. I am returning you to Cassylia for trial and +sentencing." + +"Ah, yes," Jason sighed. "I'm not surprised to hear that they are +still interested in finding me. But I should warn you that there is +very little remaining of the three-billion, seventeen-million credits +that I won from your casino." + +"Cassylia doesn't want the money back," Mikah said as he locked the +controls and swung about in his chair. "They don't want you back +either. You are their planetary hero now. When you escaped with your +ill-gotten gains they realized that they would never see the money +again. So they put their propaganda mills to work and you are now +known throughout all the adjoining star systems as 'Jason 3-Billion', +the living proof of the honesty of their dishonest games, and a lure +for all the weak in spirit. You tempt them into gambling for money +instead of working honestly for it." + +"Pardon me for being thick today," Jason said, shaking his head +rapidly to loosen up the stuck synapses. "I'm having a little +difficulty in following you. What kind of a policeman are you to +arrest me for trial after the charges have been dropped?" + +"I'm not a policeman," Mikah said sternly, his long fingers woven +tightly together before him, his eyes wide and penetrating. "I'm a +believer in Truth--nothing more. The corrupt politicians who control +Cassylia have placed you on a pedestal of honor. Honoring you, +another--and if possible--a more corrupt man, and behind your image +they have waxed fat. But I am going to use the Truth to destroy that +image, and when I destroy the image I shall destroy the evil that +produced it." + +"That's a tall order for one man," Jason said calmly--much calmer than +he really felt. "Do you have a cigarette?" + +"There is, of course, no tobacco or spirits on this ship. And I am +more than one man. I have followers. The Truth Party is already a +power to be reckoned with. We have spent much time and energy in +tracking you down, but it was worth it. We have followed your +dishonest trail into the past, to Mahaut's Planet, to the Nebula +Casino on Galipto, through a series of sordid crimes that turns an +honest man's stomach. We have warrants for your arrest from each of +these places, in some cases even the results of trials and your death +sentence." + +"I suppose it doesn't bother your sense of legality that those trials +were all held in my absence," Jason asked. "Or that I have only +fleeced casinos and gamblers--who make their living by fleecing +suckers?" + +Mikah Samon wiped away this consideration with a wave of his hand. +"You have been proven guilty of a number of crimes. No amount of +wriggling on the hook can change that. You should be thankful that +your revolting record will have a good use in the end. It will be the +lever with which we shall topple the grafting government of Cassylia." + +"I'm beginning to be sorry that I stopped Kerk and Meta from shooting +you," Jason said, shaking his head in wonder. "I have a very strong +suspicion that you are going to cause yourself--and a lot of other +people--a good deal of trouble before this thing is over. Look at me +for instance--" he rattled his wrists in their restraining bands. The +servo motors whined a bit as the detector unit came to life and +tightened the grasp of the cuffs, limiting his movement. "A little +while ago I was enjoying my health and freedom and I threw it all away +on the impulse to save your life. I'm going to have to learn to fight +those impulses." + +"If that is supposed to be a plea for mercy, it is sickening," Mikah +said. "I have never taken favors nor do I owe anything to men of your +type. Nor will I ever." + +"_Ever_ like _never_ is a long time," Jason said very quietly. "I wish +I had your serenity of mind about the sure order of things." + +"Your remark shows that there might be hope for you yet. You might be +able to recognise the Truth before you die. I will help you, talk to +you and explain." + +"Better the execution," Jason choked. + + +II + +"Are you going to feed me by hand--or unlock my wrists while I eat?" +Jason asked. Mikah stood over him with the tray, undecided. Jason gave +a light verbal prod, very gently, because whatever else he was, Mikah +was not stupid. "I would prefer you to feed me of course, you'd make +an excellent body servant." + +"You are capable of eating by yourself," Mikah responded instantly, +sliding the tray into the slots of Jason's chair. "But you will have +to do it with only one hand. If you were freed you would only cause +trouble." He touched the control on the back of the chair and the +right wrist lock snapped open. Jason stretched his cramped fingers and +picked up the fork. + +While he ate Jason's eyes were busy. Not obviously, since a gambler's +attention is never obvious, but many things can be seen if you keep +your eyes open and your attention apparently elsewhere. A sudden +glimpse of someone's cards, the slight change of expression that +reveals a player's strength. Item by item his seemingly random gaze +touched the items in the cabin: control console, screens, computer, +chart screen, jump control chart case, bookshelf. Everything was +observed, remembered and considered. Some combination of them would +fit into the plan. + +So far all he had was the beginning and the end of an idea. Beginning: +He was a prisoner in this ship, on his way back to Cassylia. End: He +was not going to remain a prisoner--nor return to Cassylia. Now all +that was missing was the vital middle. It looked impossible at the +moment, but Jason never considered that it couldn't be done. He +operated on the principle that you made your own luck. You kept your +eyes open as things evolved and at the right moment you acted. If you +acted fast enough, that was good luck. If you worried over the +possibilities until the moment had passed, that was bad luck. + +He pushed the empty plate away and stirred sugar into his cup. Mikah +had eaten sparingly and was now starting on his second cup of tea. His +eyes were fixed, unfocused in thought as he drank. He started slightly +when Jason called to him. + +"Since you don't stock cigarettes on this ship--how about letting me +smoke my own? You'll have to dig them out for me since I can't reach +the pocket while I'm chained to this chair." + +"I cannot help you," Mikah said, unmoving. "Tobacco is an irritant, a +drug and a carcinogen. If I gave you a cigarette, I would be giving +you cancer." + +"Don't be a hypocrite!" Jason snapped, inwardly pleased at the +rewarding flush in the other's neck. "They've taken the +cancer-producing agents out of tobacco for centuries now. And even if +they hadn't--how does that affect this situation. You're taking me to +Cassylia to certain death. So why should you concern yourself with the +state of my lungs in the future?" + +"I hadn't considered it that way. It is just that there are certain +rules of life...." + +"Are there?" Jason broke in, keeping the initiative and the advantage. +"Not as many as you like to think. And you people who are always +dreaming up the rules never carry your thinking far enough. You are +against drugs. Which drugs? What about the tannic acid in that tea +you're drinking? Or the caffeine in it? It's loaded with caffeine--a +drug that is both a strong stimulant and a diuretic. That's why you +won't find tea in spacesuit canteens. That's a case of a drug +forbidden for a good reason. Can you justify your cigarette ban the +same way?" + +Mikah started to talk, then thought for a moment. "Perhaps you are +right. I'm tired, and it is not important." He warily took the +cigarette case from Jason's pocket and dropped it onto the tray. Jason +didn't attempt to interfere. Mikah poured himself a third cup of tea +with a slightly apologetic air. + +"You must excuse me, Jason, for attempting to make you conform to my +own standards. When you are in pursuit of the big Truths, you +sometimes let the little Truths slip. I'm not intolerant, but I do +tend to expect everyone else to live up to certain criteria I have set +for myself. Humility is something we should never forget and I thank +you for reminding me of it. The search for Truth is hard." + +"There is no Truth," Jason told him, the anger and insult gone now +from his voice since he wanted to keep his captor involved in the +conversation. Involved enough to forget about the free wrist for a +while. He raised the cup to his lips and let the tea touch his lips +without drinking any. The half-full cup supplied an unconsidered +reason for his free hand. + +"No Truth?" Mikah weighed the thought. "You can't possibly mean that. +The galaxy is filled with Truth, it's the touchstone of Life itself. +It's the thing that separates Mankind from the animals." + +"There is no Truth, no Life, no Mankind. At least not the way you +spell them--with capital letters. They don't exist." + +Mikah's taut skin contracted into a furrow of concentration. "You'll +have to explain yourself," he said. "You're not being clear." + +"I'm afraid it's you who aren't being clear. You're making a reality +where none exists. Truth--with a small _T_ is a description, a +relationship. A way to describe a statement. A semantic tool. But +capital _T_ Truth is an imaginary word, a noise with no meaning. It +pretends to be a noun but it has no referent. It stands for nothing. +It means nothing. When you say 'I believe in Truth' you are really +saying 'I believe in nothing'." + +"You're wrong, you're wrong," Mikah said, leaning forward, stabbing +with his finger. "Truth is a philosophical abstraction, one of the +tools that mankind's mind has used to raise it above the beasts--the +proof that we are not beasts ourselves, but a higher order of +creation. Beasts can be true--but they cannot know Truth. Beasts can +see, but they cannot see Beauty." + + * * * * * + +"Arrgh!" Jason growled. "It's impossible to talk to you, much less +enjoy any comprehensible exchange of ideas. We aren't even speaking +the same language. Aside from who is right and who is wrong, for the +moment, we should go back to basics and at least agree on the meaning +of the terms that we are using. To begin with--can you define the +difference between _ethics_ and _ethos_?" + +"Of course," Mikah snapped, a glint of pleasure in his eyes at the +thought of a good rousing round of hair-splitting. "Ethics is the +discipline dealing with what it good or bad, or right or wrong--or +with moral duty and obligation. Ethos means the guiding beliefs, +standards or ideals that characterize a group or community." + +"Very good, I can see that you have been spending the long +spaceship-nights with your nose buried in the books. Now make sure the +difference between those two terms is very clear, because it is the +heart of the little communications problem we have here. Ethos is +inextricably linked with a single society and cannot be separated +from it, or it loses all meaning. Do you agree?" + +"Well...." + +"Come, come--you _have_ to agree on the terms of your own definition. +The ethos of a group is just a catch-all term for the ways in which +the members of a group rub against each other. Right?" + +Mikah reluctantly produced a nod of acquiescence. + +"Now that we agree about that we can push on one step further. Ethics, +again by your definition, must deal with any number of societies or +groups. If there are any absolute laws of ethics, they must be so +inclusive that they can be applied to _any_ society. A law of ethics +must be as universal of application as is the law of gravity." + +"I don't follow you...?" + +"I didn't think you would when I got to this point. You people who +prattle about your Universal Laws never really consider the exact +meaning of the term. My knowledge of the history of science is very +vague, but I'm willing to bet that the first Law of Gravity ever +dreamed up stated that things fell at such and such a speed, and +accelerated at such and such a rate. That's not a law, but an +observation that isn't even complete until you add 'on this planet.' +On a planet with a different mass there will be a different +observation. The law of gravity is the formula + + mM + F = ---- + d squared + +and this can be used to compute the force of gravity between any two +bodies anywhere. This is a way of expressing fundamental and +unalterable principles that apply in all circumstances. If you are +going to have any real ethical laws they will have to have this same +universality. They will have to work on Cassylia or Pyrrus, or on any +planet or in any society you can find. Which brings us back to you. +What you so grandly call--with capital letters and a flourish of +trumpets--'Laws of Ethics' aren't laws at all, but are simple little +chunks of tribal ethos, aboriginal observations made by a gang of +desert sheepherders to keep order in the house--or tent. These rules +aren't capable of any universal application, even you must see that. +Just think of the different planets that you have been on and the +number of weird and wonderful ways people have of reacting to each +other--then try and visualize ten rules of conduct that would be +applicable in all these societies. An impossible task. Yet I'll bet +that you have ten rules you want me to obey, and if one of them is +wasted on an injunction against saying prayers to carved idols I can +imagine just how universal the other nine are. You aren't being +ethical if you try to apply them wherever you go--you're just finding +a particularly fancy way to commit suicide!" + +"You are being insulting!" + +"I hope so. If I can't reach you in any other way, perhaps insult will +jar you out of your state of moral smugness. How dare you even +consider having me tried for stealing money from the Cassylia casino +when all I was doing was conforming to their own code of ethics! They +run crooked gambling games, so the law under their local ethos must be +that crooked gambling is the norm. So I cheated them, conforming to +their norm. If they have also passed a law that says cheating at +gambling is illegal, the _law_ is unethical, not the cheating. If you +are bringing me back to be tried by that law you are unethical, and I +am the helpless victim of an evil man." + +"Limb of Satan!" Mikah shouted, leaping to his feet and pacing back +and forth before Jason, clasping and unclasping his hands with +agitation. "You seek to confuse me with your semantics and so-called +ethics that are simply opportunism and greed. There is a Higher Law +that cannot be argued--" + +"That is an impossible statement--and I can prove it." Jason pointed +at the books on the wall. "I can prove it with your own books, some of +that light reading on the shelf there. Not the Aquinas--too thick. But +the little volume with _Lull_ on the spine. Is that Ramon Lull's 'The +Booke of the Ordre of Chyualry'?" + +Mikah's eyes widened. "You know the book? You're acquainted with +Lull's writing?" + +"Of course," Jason said, with an offhandedness he did not feel, since +this was the only book in the collection he could remember reading, +the odd title had stuck in his head. "Now let me see it and I shall +prove to you what I mean." There was no way to tell from the unchanged +naturalness of his words that this was the moment he had been working +carefully towards. He sipped the tea. None of his tenseness showing. + + * * * * * + +Mikah Samon got the book and handed it to him. + +Jason flipped through the pages while he talked. "Yes ... yes, this is +perfect. An almost ideal example of your kind of thinking. Do you like +to read Lull?" + +"Inspirational!" Mikah answered, his eyes shining. "There is beauty in +every line and Truths that we have forgotten in the rush of modern +life. A reconciliation and proof of the interrelationship between the +Mystical and the Concrete. By manipulation of symbols he explains +everything by absolute logic." + +"He proves nothing about nothing," Jason said emphatically. "He plays +word games. He takes a word, gives it an abstract and unreal value, +then proves this value by relating it to other words with the same +sort of nebulous antecedents. His facts aren't facts--just meaningless +sounds. This is the key point, where your universe and mine differ. +You live in this world of meaningless facts that have no existence. My +world contains facts that can be weighed, tested, proven related to +other facts in a logical manner. My facts are unshakeable and +unarguable. They exist." + +"Show me one of your unshakeable facts," Mikah said, his voice calmer +now than Jason's. + +"Over there," Jason said. "The large green book over the console. It +contains facts that even you will agree are true--I'll eat every page +if you don't. Hand it to me." He sounded angry, making overly bold +statements and Mikah fell right into the trap. He handed the volume to +Jason, using both hands since it was very thick, metal bound and +heavy. + +[Illustration] + +"Now listen closely and try and understand, even if it is difficult +for you," Jason said, opening the book. Mikah smiled wryly at this +assumption of his ignorance. "This is a stellar ephemeris, just as +packed with facts as an egg is with meat. In some ways it is a history +of mankind. Now look at the jump screen there on the control console +and you will see what I mean. Do you see the horizontal green line? +Well, that's our course." + +"Since this is my ship and I'm flying it I'm aware of that," Mikah +said. "Get on with your proof." + +"Bear with me," Jason told him. "I'll try and keep it simple. Now the +red dot on the green line is our ship's position. The number above the +screen our next navigational point, the spot where a star's +gravitational field it strong enough to be detected in jump space. The +number is the star's code listing. DB89-046-229. I'll look it up in +the book"--he quickly flipped the pages--"and find its listing. No +name. A row of code symbols though that tell a lot about it. This +little symbol means that there is a planet or planets suitable for man +to live on. Doesn't say if any people are there though." + +"Where does this all lead to?" Mikah interrupted. + +"Patience--you'll see in a moment. Now look, at the screen. The green +dot approaching on the course line is the PMP. Point of Maximum +Proximity. When the red dot and green dot coincide...." + +"Give me that book," Mikah ordered, stepping forward. Aware suddenly +that something was wrong. He was just an instant too late. + +"Here's your proof," Jason said, and hurled the heavy book through the +jump screen into the delicate circuits behind. Before it hit he had +thrown the second book. There was a tinkling crash, a flare of light +and the crackle of shorted circuits. + +The floor gave a tremendous heave as the relays snapped open, dropping +the ship through into normal space. + +Mikah grunted in pain, clubbed to the floor by the suddenness of the +transition. Locked into the chair, Jason fought the heaving of his +stomach and the blackness before his eyes. As Mikah dragged himself to +his feet, Jason took careful aim and sent the tray and dishes hurtling +into the smoking ruin of the jump computer. + +"There's your fact," he said in cheerful triumph. "Your +incontrovertible, gold-plated, uranium-cored fact. + +"We're not going to Cassylia any more!" + + +III + +"You've killed us both," Mikah said with his face strained and white +but his voice under control. + +"Not quite," Jason told him cheerily. "But I have killed the jump +control so we can't get to another star. However there's nothing wrong +with our space drive, so we can make a landing on one of the +planets--you saw for yourself that there is at least one suitable for +habitation." + +"Where I will fix the jump drive and continue the voyage to Cassylia. +You will have gained nothing." + +"Perhaps," Jason answered in his most noncommittal voice, since he did +not have the slightest intention of continuing the trip, no matter +what Mikah Samon thought. + +His captor had reached the same conclusion. "Put your hand back on the +chair arm," he ordered, and locked the cuff into place again. He +stumbled as the drive started and the ship changed direction. "What +was that?" he asked. + +"Emergency control. The ship's computer knows that something drastic +is wrong, so it has taken over. You can override it with the manuals, +but don't bother yet. The ship can do a better job than either of us +with its senses and stored data. It will find the planet we're looking +for, plot a course and get us there with the most economy of time and +fuel. When we get into the atmosphere you can take over and look for a +spot to set down." + +"I don't believe a word you say now," Mikah said grimly. "I'm going to +take control and get a call out on the emergency band. Someone will +hear it." As he started forward the ship lurched again and all the +lights went out. In the darkness flames could be seen flickering +inside the controls. There was a hiss of foam and they vanished. With +a weak flicker the emergency lighting circuit came on. + +"Shouldn't have thrown the Ramon Lull book," Jason said. "The ship +can't stomach it any more than I could." + +"You are irreverent and profane," Mikah said through his clenched +teeth, as he went to the controls. "You attempt to kill us both. You +have no respect for your own life or mine. You're a man who deserves +the worst punishment the law allows." + +"I'm a gambler," Jason laughed. "Not at all as bad as you say. I take +chances--but I only take them when the odds are right. You were +carrying me back to certain death. The worst my wrecking the controls +can do is administer the same end. So I took a chance. There is a +bigger risk factor for you of course, but I'm afraid I didn't take +that into consideration. After all, this entire affair is your idea. +You'll just have to take the consequences of your own actions and not +scold me for them." + +"You're perfectly right," Mikah said quietly. "I should have been more +alert. Now will you tell me what to do to save _both_ our lives. None +of the controls work." + +"None! Did you try the emergency override? The big red switch under +the safety housing." + +"I did. It is dead, too." + +Jason slumped back into the seat. It was a moment before he could +speak. "Read one of your books, Mikah," he said at last. "Seek +consolation in your philosophy. There's nothing we can do. It's all up +to the computer now, and whatever is left of the circuits." + +"Can't we help--repair anything?" + +"Are you a ship technician? I'm not. We would probably do more harm +than good." + + * * * * * + +It took two ship-days of very erratic flight to reach the planet. A +haze of clouds obscured the atmosphere. They approached from the night +side and no details were visible. Or lights. + +"If there were cities we should see their lights--shouldn't we?" Mikah +asked. + +"Not necessarily. Could be storms. Could be enclosed cities. Could be +only ocean in this hemisphere." + +"Or it could be that there are no people down there. Even if the ship +should get us down safely--what will it matter? We will be trapped for +the rest of our lives on this lost planet at the end of the universe." + +"Don't be so cheerful," Jason interrupted. "How about taking off these +cuffs while we go down. It will probably be a rough landing and I'd +like to have some kind of a chance." + +Mikah frowned at him. "Will you give me your word of honor that you +won't try to escape during the landing?" + +"No. And if I gave it--would you believe it? If you let me go, you +take your chances. Let neither of us think it will be any different." + +"I have my duty to do," Mikah said. Jason remained locked in the +chair. + +They were in the atmosphere, the gentle sighing against the hull +quickly climbed the scale to a shrill scream. The drive cut out and +they were in free fall. Air friction heated the outer hull white-hot +and the interior temperature quickly rose in spite of the cooling +unit. + +"What's happening?" Mikah asked. "You seem to know more about this. +Are we through--going to crash?" + +"Maybe. Could be only one of two things. Either the whole works has +folded up--in which case we are going to be scattered in very small +pieces all over the landscape, or the computer is saving itself for +one last effort. I hope that's it. They build computers smart these +days, all sort of problem-solving circuits. The hull and engines are +in good shape--but the controls spotty and unreliable. In a case like +this a good human pilot would let the ship drop as far and fast as it +could before switching on the drive. Then turn it on full--thirteen +gees or more, whatever he figured the passengers could take on the +couches. The hull would take a beating, but who cares. The control +circuits would be used the shortest amount of time in the simplest +manner." + +"Do you think that's what is happening?" Mikah asked, getting into his +acceleration chair. + +"That's what I _hope_ is happening. Going to unlock the cuffs before +you go to bed? It could be a bad landing and we might want to go +places in a hurry." + +Mikah considered, then took out his gun. "I'll unlock you, but I +intend to shoot if you try anything. Once we are down you will be +locked in again." + +"Thanks for small blessings," Jason said, rubbing his wrists. + +Deceleration jumped on them, kicked the air from their lungs in +uncontrollable gasps, sank them deep into the yielding couches. +Mikah's gun was pressed into his chest, too heavy to lift. It made no +difference, Jason could not stand nor move. He hovered on the border +of consciousness, his vision flickering behind a black and red haze. + +Just as suddenly the pressure was gone. + +They were still falling. + +The drive groaned in the stern of the ship and relays chattered. But +it didn't start again. The two men stared at each other, unmoving, for +the unmeasurable unit of time that the ship fell. + +As the ship dropped it turned and hit at an angle. The end came for +Jason in an engulfing wave of thunder, shock and pain. Sudden impact +pushed him against the restraining straps, burst them with the inertia +of his body, hurled him across the control room. His last conscious +thought was to protect his head. He was lifting his arm when he struck +the wall. + + * * * * * + +There is a cold that is so chilling it is a pain not a temperature. +Cold that slices into the flesh before it numbs and kills. + +Jason came to with the sound of his own voice crying hoarsely. The +cold was so great it filled the universe. Cold water he realized as he +coughed it from his mouth and nose. Something was around him and it +took an effort to recognize it as Mikah's arm; he was holding Jason's +face above the surface while he swam. A receding blackness in the +water could only have been the ship, giving off bubbles and groans as +it died. The cold water didn't hurt now and Jason was just relaxing +when he felt something solid under his feet. + +"Stand up and walk, curse you," Mikah gasped hoarsely. "I can't ... +carry you ... can't carry myself...." + +They floundered out of the water, side by side, four-legged crawling +beasts that could not stand erect. Everything had an unreality to it +and Jason found it hard to think. He should not stop, that he was sure +of, but what else could he do? There was a flickering in the darkness, +a wavering light coming towards them. Jason could say nothing, but he +heard Mikah cry out for help. + +Nearer came the light, some kind of a flare or torch, held high. Mikah +pulled to his feet as the flame approached. + +It was a nightmare. It wasn't a man but a thing that held the flare. A +thing of angles, sharp corners, fang-faced and horrible. It had a +clubbed extremity it used to strike down Mikah. The tall man fell +wordlessly and the creature turned towards Jason. He had no strength +to fight with, though he struggled to climb to his feet. His fingers +scratched at the frosted sand, but he could not rise, and exhausted +with this last effort he fell forward face down. Unconsciousness +pulled at his brain but he would not submit. The flickering torchlight +came closer and the scuffle of heavy feet in the sand; he could not +have this horror behind him. With the last of his strength he levered +himself over and lay on his back, staring up at the thing that stood +over him, with the darkness of exhaustion filming his eyes. + + +IV + +It did not kill him at once, but stood staring down at him, and as +the slow seconds ticked by and Jason was still alive he forced himself +to consider this menace that appeared from the blackness. + +"_K'e vi stas el...?_" the creature said, and for the first time Jason +realized it was human. The meaning of the question picked at the edge +of his exhausted brain, he felt he could almost understand it, though +he had never heard the language before. He tried to answer but there +was only a hoarse gargle from his throat. + +"_Ven k'n torcoy--r'pidu!_" + +More lights sprang from the darkness inland and with them the sound of +running feet. As they came closer Jason had a clearer look at the man +above him and could understand why he had mistaken him for some +inhuman creature. His limbs were completely wrapped in lengths of +stained leather, his chest and body protected by thick and overlapping +leather plates covered with blood-red designs. Over his head was +fitted the cochlea shaped shell of some animal, spiraling to a point +in front: two small openings had been drilled in it for eye holes. +Great, finger-long teeth had been set in the lower edge of the shell +to heighten the already fearsome appearance. The only thing at all +human about the creature was the matted and filthy beard that trickled +out of the shell below the teeth. There were too many other details +for Jason to absorb so suddenly; something bulky slung behind one +shoulder, dark objects at the waist, a heavy club reached and prodded +Jason in the ribs, but he was too close to unconsciousness to resist. + +A guttural command halted the torch-bearers a full five meters from +the spot where Jason lay. He wondered vaguely why the armored man had +not let them approach closer since the light from their torches barely +reached this far: everything on this planet seemed inexplicable. For a +few moments Jason must have lost consciousness because when he looked +again the torch was stuck in the sand at his side and the armored man +had one of Jason's boots off and was pulling at the other. Jason could +only writhe feebly but not prevent the theft, for some reason he could +not force his body to follow his will. His sense of time seemed to +have altered as well and though every second dragged heavily by events +occurred with startling rapidity. + +The boots were gone now and the man fumbled at Jason's clothes, +stopping every few seconds to glance up at the row of torch-bearers. +The magnetic seals were alien to him, the sharp teeth sewn into the +leather over his knuckles dug into Jason's flesh as he struggled to +open the seals or to tear the resistant metalcloth. He was growling +with impatience when he accidentally touched the release button on the +medikit and it dropped into his hand. The shining gadget seemed to +please him, but when one of the sharp needles slipped through his +thick hand-coverings and stabbed him he howled with rage, throwing the +machine down, and grinding it into a splintered ruin in the sand. The +loss of this irreplaceable device goaded Jason into motion, he sat up +and was trying to reach the medikit when unconsciousness surged over +him. + + * * * * * + +Sometime before dawn the pain in his head drove him reluctantly back +to awareness. There were some foul-smelling hides draped over him that +retained a little of his body heat. He pulled away the stifling fold +that covered his face and stared up at the stars, cold points of light +that glittered in the frigid night. The air was a stimulant and he +sucked deep gasps of it that burned his throat but seemed to clear his +thoughts. For the first time he realized that his disorientation had +been caused by that crack on the head he had received when the ship +crashed; his exploring fingers found a swollen rawness on his skull. +He must have a brain concussion, that would explain his earlier +inability to move or think straight. The cold air was numbing his face +and he willingly pulled the hairy skin back over his head. + +He wondered what had happened to Mikah Samon after the local thug in +the horror outfit had bashed him with the club. This was a messy and +unexpected end for the man after he had managed to survive the crash +of the ship. Jason had no special affection for the under-nourished +zealot, but he did owe him a life. Mikah had saved him after the +crash, only to be murdered himself by this local assassin. Jason made +a mental note to kill the man just as soon as he was physically up to +it, at the same time he was a little astonished at his reflexive +acceptance of the need for this blood-thirsty atonement of a life for +a life. Apparently his long stay on Pyrrus had trodden down his normal +dislike for killing except in self-defense and from what he had seen +so far of this world the Pyrran training would certainly be most +useful. The sky showed gray through a tear in the hide and he pushed +it back to look at the dawn. + +Mikah Samon lay next to him his head projecting from a covering fur. +He hair was matted and caked with dark blood, but he was still +breathing. + +"Harder to kill than I thought," Jason grunted as he levered himself +painfully up onto one elbow and took a good look at this world where +his spaceship sabotage had landed them. + +It was a grim desert, lumped with huddled bodies like the aftermath of +a battle at world's-end. A few of them were stumbling to their feet, +holding their skins around them, the only signs of life in that +immense waste of gritty sand. On one side a ridge of dunes cut off +sight of the sea, but he could hear the dull boom of waves on the +shore. White frost rimed the ground and the chill wind made his eyes +blink and water. On the top of the dunes a remembered figure suddenly +appeared, the armored man, doing something with what appeared to be +lengths of rope; there was metallic tinkling, suddenly cut off. Mikah +Samon groaned and stirred. + +"How do you feel," Jason asked. "Those are two of the finest +blood-shot eyeballs I have ever seen." + +"Where am I?" + +"Now that is a bright and original question--I didn't pick you for the +type who watched historical spaceopera on the TV. I have no idea where +we are--but I can give you a brief synopsis of how we arrived here, if +you are up to it." + +"I remember we swam ashore, then something evil came from the +darkness, like a demon from hell. We fought...." + +"And he bashed in your head, one quick blow and that was about all the +fight there was. I had a better look at your demon, though I was in no +better condition to fight him than you were. He's a man dressed in a +weird outfit out of an addict's nightmare and appears to be the boss +of this crew of rugged campers. Other than that I have little idea of +what is going on--except that he stole my boots and I'm going to get +then back if I have to kill him for them." + +"Do not lust after material things," Mikah intoned seriously. "And do +not talk of killing a man for material gain. You are evil, Jason, +and.... My boots are gone--and my clothes, too!" + +Mikah had thrown back his covering skins and made this startling +discovery. "Belial!" he roared. "Asmodeus, Abaddon, Apollyon and +Baal-zebub!" + +"Very nice," Jason said admiringly, "you really have been studying up +on your demonology. Were you just listing them--or calling on them for +aid?" + +"Silence, blasphemer! I have been robbed!" He rose to his feet and the +wind whistling around his almost-bare body quickly gave his skin a +light touch of blue. "I am going to find the evil creature that did +this and force him to return what is mine." + +Mikah turned to leave but Jason reached out and grabbed his ankle with +a wrestling grip, twisted it and brought the man thudding to the +ground. The fall dazed him and Jason pulled the skins back over the +raw-boned form. + +"We're even," Jason said. "You saved my life last night, just now I +saved yours. You're bare-handed and wounded--while the old man of the +mountain up there is a walking armory, and anyone with the personality +to wear that kind of an outfit will kill you as easily as he picks his +teeth. So take it easy and try to avoid trouble. There's a way out of +this mess--there's a way out of _every_ mess if you look for it--and +I'm going to find it. In fact I'm going to take a walk right now and +start my research. Agreed?" + +A groan was his only answer since Mikah was unconscious again, fresh +blood seeping from his injured scalp. Jason stood and wrapped his +hides about his body as some protection from the wind, tying the loose +ends together. Then he kicked through the sand until he found a smooth +rock that would fit inside his fist with just the end protruding, and +thus armed made his way out through the stirring forms of the +sleepers. + + * * * * * + +Mikah was conscious again when Jason returned, and the sun was well +above the horizon. The people were all awake now, a shuffling, +scratching herd of about thirty men, women and children. They were +identical in their filth and crude skin wrappings, milling about with +a random motion or sitting blankly on the ground. They showed no +interest at all in the two strangers. Jason handed a tarred leather +cup to Mikah and squatted next to him. + +"Drink that. It's water, the only thing that anyone here had to drink. +I didn't find any food." He still had the stone in his hand and while +he talked he rubbed it on the sand: the end was moist and red and some +long hairs were stuck in it. + +"I took a good look around this camp, and there's very little more +than you can see from here. Just this crowd of broken down types, a +few bundles rolled in hide, and some of them are carrying skin water +bottles. They have a simple me-stronger pecking order so I pecked a +bit and we can drink. Food comes next." + +"Who are they? What are we doing?" Mikah asked, mumbling a little, +obviously still suffering the after-effects of the blow. Jason looked +at the contused skull, and decided not to touch it. The wound had bled +freely and clotted. Washing it off with the highly dubious water would +accomplish little and might add infection to their other troubles. + +"I'm only sure of one thing," Jason said. "They're slaves. I don't +know why they are here, what they are doing or where they are going, +but their status is painfully clear--ours, too. Old Nasty up there on +the hill is the boss. The rest of us are slaves." + +"Slaves!" Mikah snorted, the word penetrating through the pain in his +head. "It is abominable. The slaves must be freed." + +"No lectures please, and try to be realistic--even if it hurts. There +are only two slaves that need freeing here, you and I. These people +seem nicely adjusted to the _status quo_ and I see no reason to change +it. I'm not starting any abolitionist campaigns until I can see my way +clearly out of this mess, and I probably won't start any then either. +This planet has been going on a long time without me, and will +probably keep rolling along once I'm gone." + +"Coward! You must fight for the Truth and the Truth will make you +free." + +"I can hear those capital letters again," Jason groaned. "The only +thing right now that is going to make me free is me. Which may be bad +poetry, but is still the truth. The situation here is rough but not +unbeatable--so listen and learn. The boss, his name is Ch'aka in case +you care, seems to have gone off on a hunt of some kind. He's not far +away and will be back soon, so I'll try and give you the entire setup +quickly. + +"I thought I recognized the language, and I was right. It's a corrupt +form of Esperanto, the language all the Terido worlds speak. This +altered language plus the fact that these people live about one step +above the stone-age culture is pretty sure evidence that they are cut +off from any contact with the rest of the galaxy, though I hope not. +There may be a trading base somewhere on the planet, and if there is +we'll find it later. We have enough other things to worry about right +now, but at least we can speak the language. These people have +contracted and lost a lot of sounds and even introduced a glottal +stop, something that _no_ language needs, but with a little effort the +meaning can still be made out." + +"I do not speak Esperanto." + +"Then learn it. It's easy enough even in this jumbled form. And shut +up and listen. These locals are born and bred slaves and it is all +they know. There is a little squabbling in the ranks with the bigger +ones pushing the work on the weak ones when Ch'aka isn't looking, but +I have that situation well in hand. Ch'aka is our big problem, and we +have to find out a lot more things before we can tackle him. He is +boss, fighter, father, provider and destiny for this mob, and he seems +to know his job. So try to be a good slave for a while...." + +"Slave! I?" Mikah arched his back and tried to rise. Jason pushed him +back to the ground--harder than was necessary. + +"Yes, you--and me, too. That is the only way we are going to survive +in this arrangement. Do what everyone else does, obey orders, and you +stand a good chance of staying alive until we can find a way out of +this tangle." + + * * * * * + +Mikah's answer was drowned out in a roar from the dunes as Ch'aka +returned. The slaves climbed quickly to their feet, grabbing up their +bundles, and began to form a single widespaced line. Jason helped +Mikah to stand and wrap strips of skin around his feet then supported +most of his weight as they stumbled to a place in the open formation. +Once they were all in position Ch'aka kicked the nearest one and they +began walking slowly forward looking carefully at the ground as they +went. Jason had no idea of the significance of the action, but as long +as he and Mikah weren't bothered it didn't matter: he had enough work +cut out for him just to keep the wounded man on his feet. Somehow +Mikah managed to dredge up enough strength to keep going. + +One of the slaves pointed down and shouted and the line stopped. He +was too far away for Jason to make out the cause of the excitement, +but the man bent over and scratched a hole with a short length of +pointed wood. In a few seconds he dug up something round and not quite +the size of his hand. He raised it over his head and brought the thing +to Ch'aka at a shambling run. The slavemaster took it and bit off a +chunk, and when the man who had found it turned away he gave him a +lusty kick. The line moved forward again. + +Two more of the mysterious objects were found, both of which Ch'aka +ate as well. Only when his immediate hunger was satisfied did he make +any attempt to be the good provider. When the next one was found he +called over a slave and threw the object into a crudely woven basket +he was carrying on his back. After this the basket-toting slave walked +directly in front of Ch'aka who was carefully watchful that every one +of the things that was dug up went into the basket. Jason wondered +what they were--and they were edible, too, an angry rumbling in his +stomach reminded him. + +The slave next in line to Jason shouted and pointed to the sand. Jason +let Mikah sink to a sitting position when they stopped and watched +with interest as the slave attacked the ground with his piece of wood, +scratching around a tiny sprig of green that projected from the desert +sand. His burrowings uncovered a wrinkled gray object from which the +green leaves were growing, a root or tuber of some kind. It appeared +as edible as a piece of stone to Jason, but obviously not to the slave +who drooled heavily and actually had the temerity to sniff the root. +Ch'aka howled with anger at this and when the slave had dropped the +root into the basket with the others he received a kick so strong that +he had to limp back painfully to his position in the line. + +Soon after this Ch'aka called a halt and the tattered slaves huddled +around while he poked through the basket. He called them over one at a +time and gave them one or more of the roots according to some merit +system of his own. The basket was almost empty when he poked his club +at Jason. + +"_K'e nam h'vas vi?_" he asked. + +"_Mia namo estas Jason, mia amiko estas Mikah._" + +Jason answered in correct Esperanto that Ch'aka seemed to understand +well enough, because he grunted and dug through the contents of the +basket. His masked face stared at them and Jason could feel the impact +of 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 distance +the slaver could imagine. + +"From the other side of the ocean, correct." Jason was in no mood to +deliver a lecture on astronomy. "When do we eat?" + +"You a rich man in your country, got a ship, got shoes. Now I got your +shoes. You a slave here. My slave. You both my slaves." + +"I'm your slave, I'm your slave," Jason said resignedly. "But even +slaves have to eat. Where's the food?" + +Ch'aka grubbed around in the basket until he found a tiny and withered +root 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 he +could. He handed one to Mikah and took a tentative bite out of the +other one: it was gritty with sand and tasted like slightly rancid +wax. 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 do +until something better came along. + +"What did you talk about?" Mikah asked, grinding his own portion +between his teeth. + +"Just swapping lies. He thinks we're his slaves and I agreed. But it's +just temporary--" Jason added as anger colored Mikah's face and he +started to climb to his feet. Jason pulled him back down. "This is a +strange planet, you're injured, we have no food or water, and no idea +at all how to survive in this place. The only thing we can do to stay +alive is to go along with what Old Ugly there says. If he wants to +call 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 to +get 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 do +anything until you are out of the walking wounded class." + + * * * * * + +For the rest of the day the line of walkers plodded across the sand +and in addition to helping Mikah, Jason found two of the _krenoj_, the +edible roots. They stopped before dusk and dropped gratefully to the +sand. When the food was divided they received a slightly larger +portion, as evidence perhaps of Jason's attention to the work. Both +men were exhausted and fell asleep as soon as it was dark. + +During the following morning they had their first break from the +walking routine. Their foodsearching always paralleled the unseen sea, +and one slave walked the crest of the dunes that hid the water from +sight. He must have seen something of interest because he leaped down +from the mound and waved both arms wildly. Ch'aka ran heavily to the +dunes and talked with the scout, then booted the man from his +presence. + +Jason watched with growing interest as he unwrapped the bulky package +slung from his back and disclosed an efficient looking crossbow, +cocking it by winding on a built-in crank. This complicated and deadly +piece of machinery seemed very much out of place with the primitive +slave-holding society, and Jason wished that he could get a better +look at the device. Ch'aka fumbled a quarrel from another pouch and +fitted it to the bow. The slaves sat silently on the sand while their +master stalked along the base of the dunes, then wormed his way over +them and out of sight, creeping silently on his stomach. A few minutes +later there was a scream of pain from behind the dunes and all the +slaves jumped to their feet and raced to see. Jason left Mikah where +he lay and was in the first rank of observers that broke over the +hillocks and onto the shore. + +They stopped at the usual distance and shouted compliments about the +quality of the shot and what a mighty hunter Ch'aka was. Jason had to +admit there was a certain truth in the claims. A large, furred +amphibian lay at the water's edge, the fletched end of the crossbow +bolt projecting from its thick neck and a thin stream of blood running +down 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 of +things. "When do we eat?" + +The master ignored his slaves, sitting heavily on the dune until he +regained his breath after the stalk. Then after cocking the crossbow +again he stalked over to the beast and with his knife cut out the +quarrel, 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 the +crossbow at the slave who approached the kill. Ch'aka had left his +knife in the animal and Opisweni pulled it free and began to +methodically flay and butcher the beast. All the time he worked he +carefully kept his back turned to Ch'aka and the aimed bow. + +"A trusting soul, our slave-driver," Jason mumbled to himself as he +joined the others in searching the shore for driftwood. Ch'aka had all +the weapons as well as a constant fear of assassination. If Opisweni +tried to use the knife for anything other than the intended piece of +work, he would get the crossbow quarrel in the back of his head. Very +efficient. + +Enough driftwood was found to make a sizable fire, and when Jason +returned with his contribution the _rosmaro_ had been hacked into +large chunks. Ch'aka kicked his slaves away from the heap of wood and +produced a small device from another of his sacks. Interested, Jason +pushed as close as he dared, into the front rank of the watching +circle. Though he had never seen one of them before, the operation of +the firemaker was obvious to him. A spring-loaded arm drove a fragment +of stone against a piece of steel, sparks flew out and were caught in +a cup of tinder, where Ch'aka blew on them until they burst into +flame. + +Where had the firelighter and the crossbow come from? They were +evidence of a higher level of culture than that possessed by these +slave-holding nomads. This was the first bit of evidence that Jason +had seen that there might be more to the cultural life of this planet +than they had seen since their landing. Later, while they were gorging +themselves on the seared meat, he drew Mikah aside and pointed this +out. + +[Illustration] + +"There's hope yet. These illiterate thugs never manufactured that +crossbow or firelighter. We must find out where they came from and see +about getting there ourselves. I had a quick look at the quarrel when +Ch'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 the +situation, obtain transportation to Cassylia. I will not place you +under arrest again until that time." + +"How considerate of you," Jason said, lifting one eyebrow. Mikah was +absolutely impossible, and Jason probed at his moral armor to see if +there were any weak spots. "Won't you feel guilty about bringing me +back to get killed? After all we are companions in trouble--and I did +save your life." + +[Illustration: Ijale] + +"I will grieve, Jason. I can see that though you are evil you are not +completely evil, and given the right training could be fitted for a +useful place in society. But my personal grief must not be allowed to +alter events: you forget that you committed a crime and must pay the +penalty." + +Ch'aka belched cavernously inside his shell-helmet and howled at his +slaves. + +"Enough eating, you pigs. You get fat. Wrap the meat and carry it, we +have light yet to look for _krenoj_. Move!" + + * * * * * + +Once more the line was formed and began its slow pace across the +desert. More of the edible roots were found, and once they stopped +briefly to fill the water bags at a spring that bubbled up out of the +sand. The sun dropped towards the horizon and what little warmth it +possessed was absorbed by a bank of clouds. Jason looked around and +shivered--then noticed the line of dots moving on the horizon. He +nudged Mikah who still leaned heavily on him. + +"Looks like company coming. I wonder where they fit into the +program?" + +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, apparently +absorbed in the same task as Jason's group. They plodded forward, +making a slow examination of the sand, followed behind by the solitary +figure 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 walking +slaves stopped as soon as they reached it, dropping with satisfied +grunts onto the sand. The cairn was obviously a border marker and +Ch'aka walked to it and rested his foot on one of the stones, watching +while the other line of slaves approached. They, too, stopped at the +cairn and settled to the ground: both groups stared with dull-eyed +lack of interest and only the slave-masters showed any animation. The +other master stopped a good ten paces before he reached Ch'aka and +waved an evil looking stone hammer over his head. + +"Hate you, Ch'aka!" he roared. + +"Hate you, Fasimba!" boomed back the answer. + +The exchange was as formal as a _pas de deux_ and just about as +warlike. Both men shook their weapons and shouted a few insults, then +settled down to a quiet conversation. Fasimba was garbed in the same +type of hideous and fear-inspiring outfit as Ch'aka, differing only in +unimportant details. Instead of a conch, his head was encased in the +skull of one of the amphibious _rosmaroj_, brightened up with some +extra tusks and horns. The differences between the two men were all +minor, and mostly a matter of decoration or variation of weapon +design. They were obviously slave masters and equals. + +"Killed a _rosmaro_ today, second time in ten days," Ch'aka said. + +"You got a good piece coast. Plenty _rosmaroj_. Where the two slaves +you owe me?" + +"I owe you two slaves?" + +"You owe me two slaves, don't play like stupid. I got the iron arrows +for you from the D'zertanoj, one slave you paid with died. You still +owe other one." + +"I got two slaves for you. I got two slaves more I pulled out of the +ocean." + +"You got a good piece coast." + +Ch'aka walked down his line of slaves until he came to the over-bold +one he had half-crippled with a kick the day before. Pulling him to +his feet he booted him towards the other mob. + +"Here's a good one," he said, delivering the goods with a last parting +kick. + +"Look skinny. Not too good." + +"No, all muscles. Works hard. Doesn't eat much." + +"You're a liar!" + +"Hate you, Fasimba!" + +"Hate you, Ch'aka! Where's the other one?" + +"Got a good one. Stranger from the ocean. He can tell you funny +stories, work hard." + +Jason turned in time to avoid the full force of the kick, but it was +still strong enough to knock him sprawling. Before he could get up +Ch'aka had clutched Mikah Samon by the arm and dragged him across the +invisible line to the other group of slaves. Fasimba stalked over to +examine him, prodding him with a spiked toe. + +"Don't look good. Big hole on the head." + +"He works hard," Ch'aka said. "Hole almost healed. He very strong." + +"You give me new one if he dies?" Fasimba asked doubtfully. + +"I'll give you. Hate you, Fasimba!" + +"Hate you, Ch'aka." + +The slave herds were prodded to their feet and moved back the way they +had come, and Jason shouted after Ch'aka. + +"Wait! Don't sell my friend. We work better together, you can get rid +of someone else...." + +The slaves gaped at this sudden outburst and Ch'aka wheeled raising +his club. + +"You shut up. You're a slave. You tell me once more to do what and I +kill you." + +Jason shut up since it was very obvious that this was the only thing +he could do. He had a few qualms about Mikah's possible fate: if he +survived the wound he was certainly not the type to bow to the +inevitabilities of slave-holding life. Yet Jason had done his best to +save him and that was that. Now Jason would think about Jason for a +while. + + * * * * * + +They made a brief march before dark, apparently just until the other +slaves were out of sight, then stopped for the night. Jason settled +himself into the lee of a mound that broke the force of the wind a bit +and unwrapped a piece of scorched meat he had salvaged from the +earlier feast. It was tough and oily but far superior to the barely +edible _krenoj_ that made up the greater part of the native diet. He +chewed noisily on the bone and watched while one of the other slaves +sidled over towards him. + +"Give me some your meat?" the slave asked in a whining voice, and only +when she talked did Jason realize that this was a girl; all the slaves +were alike in their matted hair and skin wrappings. He ripped off a +chunk of meat. + +"Here. Sit down and eat it. What's your name?" In exchange for his +generosity he intended to get some information from his captive +audience. + +"Ijale." She tore at the meat, held tightly in one fist, while the +index finger of her free hand scratched for enemies in her tangled +hair. + +"Where do you come from? Did you always live here--like this?" How do +you ask a slave if she has always been a slave? + +"Not here. I come from Bul'wajo first, then Fasimba, now I belong to +Ch'aka." + +"What or who is Bul'wajo? Someone like our boss Ch'aka?" She nodded, +gnawing at the meat. "And the D'zertanoj that Fasimba gets his arrows +from--who are they?" + +"You don't know much," she said, finishing the meat and licking the +grease from her fingers. + +"I know enough to have meat when you don't have any--so don't abuse my +hospitality. Who are the D'zertanoj?" + +"Everyone knows who they are." She shrugged with incomprehension and +looked for a soft spot in the sand to sit down. "They live in the +desert. They go around in _caroj_. They stink. They have many nice +things. One of them gave me my best thing. If I show it to you, you +won't take it?" + +"No, I won't touch it. But I would like to see anything they have +made. Here, here's some more meat. Now let me see your best thing." + +Ijale rooted in her skins for a hidden pocket and dragged out +something that she concealed in her clenched fist. She held it out +proudly and opened it and there was enough light left for Jason to +make out the rough form of a red glass bead. + +"Isn't this so very nice?" she asked. + +"Very nice," Jason agreed, and for an instant felt a touch of real +sorrow when he looked at the pathetic bauble. This girl's ancestors +had come to this planet in spaceships with a knowledge of the most +advanced sciences. Cut off, their children had degenerated into this, +barely conscious slaves, who could pride a worthless piece of glass +above all things. + +"I like you. I'll show you my best thing again." + +"I like you, too. Good night." + + +V + +Ijale stayed near Jason the next day, and took the next station in +line when the endless _krenoj_ hunt began. Whenever it was possible he +questioned her and before noon had extracted all of her meager +knowledge of affairs beyond the barren coastal plain where they lived. +The ocean was a mystery that produced edible animals, fish and an +occasional human corpse. Ships could be seen from time to time +offshore but nothing was known about them. On the other flank the +territory was bounded by desert even more inhospitable than the one in +which they scratched out their existence, a waste of lifeless sand, +habitable only by the D'zertanoj and their mysterious _caroj_. These +last could be animals--or mechanical transportation of some kind, +either was possible from Ijale's vague description. Ocean, coast and +desert, these made up all of her world and she could conceive of +nothing that might exist beyond. + +Jason knew there was more, the crossbow was proof enough of that, and +he had every intention of finding out where it came from. In order to +do that he was going to have to change his slave status when the +proper time came. He was developing a certain facility in dodging +Ch'aka's heavy boot, the work was never hard and there was ample food. +Being a slave left him with no responsibilities other than obeying +orders and he had ample opportunity to discover what he could about +this planet, so that when he finally did leave he would be as well +prepared as was possible. + +Later in the day another column of marching slaves was sighted in the +distance, on a course paralleling their own, and Jason expected a +repeat performance of the previous day's meeting. He was agreeably +surprised that it was not. The sight of the others threw Ch'aka into +an immediate rage that sent his slaves rushing for safety in all +directions. By leaping into the air, howling with anger and beating +his club against his thick leather armor he managed to work himself +into quite a state before starting off on a slogging run. Jason, +followed close behind him, greatly interested by this new turn of +affairs. Ahead of them the other slaves scattered and from their midst +burst another armed and armored figure. They churned towards each +other at top speed and Jason hoped for a shattering crash when they +met. However they slowed before they hit and began circling each +other, spitting curses. + +"Hate you, M'shika!" + +"Hate you, Ch'aka!" + +The words were the same, but shouted with fierce meaning, with no +touch of formality this time. + +"Kill you, M'shika! You coming again on my part of the ground with +your carrion-meat slaves!" + +"You lie, Ch'aka--this ground mine from way back." + +"I kill you way back!" + +Ch'aka leaped in as he screamed the words and swung a roundhouse blow +with his club that would have broken the other man in two if it had +connected. But M'shika was expecting this and fell back, swinging a +counter-blow with his own club that Ch'aka easily avoided. There +followed a quick exchange of club-work that did little more than fan +the air, until suddenly both men were locked together and the fight +began in earnest. They rolled together on the ground grunting +savagely, tearing at each other. The heavy clubs were of no use this +close and were dropped in favor of knives and knees: Jason could +understand now why Ch'aka had the long tusks strapped to his kneecaps. +It was a no-holds-barred fight and each man was trying as hard as +possible to kill his opponent. The leather armor made this difficult +and the struggle continued, littering the sand with broken off animal +teeth, discarded weapons and other debris. It looked like it would be +called a draw when both men separated for a breather, but they dived +right back in again. + + * * * * * + +It was Ch'aka who broke the stalemate when he plunged his dagger into +the ground and on the next roll caught the handle in his mouth. +Holding his opponent's arms in both his hands he plunged his head down +and managed to find a weak spot in the other's armor: M'shika howled +and pulled free and when he climbed to his feet blood was running down +his arm and dripping from his fingertips. Ch'aka jumped after him but +the wounded man grabbed up his club in time to ward off the charge. +Stumbling backward he managed to pick up most of his discarded weapons +with his wounded arm and beat a hasty retreat. Ch'aka ran after him a +short way, shouting praise of his own strength and abilities and of +his opponent's cowardice. Jason saw a short, sharp horn from some sea +animal lying in the churned up sand and quickly picked it up before +Ch'aka turned back. + +Once his enemy had been chased out of sight Ch'aka carefully searched +the battleground and scavenged anything of military value. Though +there was still some hours of daylight left he signaled a halt and +distributed the evening ration of _krenoj_. Jason sat and chewed his +portion reflectively while Ijale leaned against his side, her shoulder +moving rhythmically as she scratched some hidden mite. Lice were +inescapable, they hid in the crevices of the badly cured hides and +emerged with clicking jaws whenever the warmth of human flesh came +near. Jason had his quota of the pests and found his scratching +keeping time with hers. This syncopation of scratch triggered the +anger that had been building within him, slow and unnoticed. + +"I'm serving notice," he said, jumping to his feet. "I'm through with +this slave business. Which way is the nearest spot in the desert where +I can find the D'zertanoj?" + +"Over there, a two-day walk. How are you going to kill Ch'aka?" + +"I'm not going to kill Ch'aka, I'm just leaving. I've enjoyed his +hospitality and his boot long enough and feel like striking out for +myself." + +"You can't do that," she gasped. "You will be killed." + +"Ch'aka can't very well kill me if I'm not here." + +"Everybody will kill you. That is the law. Runaway slaves are always +killed." + +Jason sat down again and cracked another chunk from his _krenoj_ and +ruminated over it. "You've talked me into staying a while. But I have +no particular desire now to kill Ch'aka, even though he did steal my +boots. And I don't see how killing him will help me any." + +"You are stupid. After you kill Ch'aka you'll be the new Ch'aka. Then +you can do what you want." + +Of course. Now that he had been told, the social setup appeared +obvious. Because he had seen slaves and slave-holders, Jason had held +the mistaken notion that they were different classes of society, when +in reality there was only one class, what might be called the +dog-eat-dog class. He should have been aware of this when he had seen +how careful Ch'aka was to never allow anyone within striking distance +of him, and how he vanished each night to some hidden spot. This was +free enterprise with a vengeance, carried to its absolute extreme with +every man out for himself, every other man's hand turned against him, +and your station in life determined by the strength of your arm and +the speed of your reflexes. Anyone who stayed alone placed himself +outside this society and was therefore an enemy of it and sure to be +killed on sight. All of which added up to the fact that he had to kill +Ch'aka if he wanted to get ahead. He still had no desire to do it, but +he had to. + + * * * * * + +That night he watched Ch'aka when he slipped away from the others and +Jason made a careful note of the direction that he took. Of course the +slave master would circle about before he concealed himself, but with +a little luck Jason would find him. And kill him. He had no special +love of midnight assassination, and until landing on this planet had +always believed that killing a sleeping man was a cowardly way to +terminate another's existence. But special conditions demand special +solutions, and he was no match for the heavily armored man in open +combat, therefore the assassin's knife. Or rather sharpened horn. He +managed to doze fitfully until some time after midnight, then slipped +silently from under his skin coverings. Silently he skirted the +sleepers and crept into the darkness between the dunes. + +Finding Ch'aka in the wilderness of the desert night was not easy, yet +Jason persisted. He made careful sweeps in wider and wider arcs, +working his way out from the sleeping slaves. There were gullies and +shadowed ravines and all of them had to be searched with utmost care. +The slave master was sleeping in one of them and would be alert for +any sound. The fact that he had also made special precautions to guard +against assassination was only apparent to Jason after he heard the +bell ring. It was a tiny sound, barely detectable, but he froze +instantly. There was a thin strand pressing against his arm, and when +he drew back carefully the bell sounded again. He cursed silently for +his stupidity, only remembering now about the bells he had heard from +Ch'aka's sleeping site. The slaver must surround himself every night +with a network of string that would sound alarm bells if anyone +attempted to approach in the dark. Slowly and soundlessly Jason drew +back deeper into the gully. + +With a thud of rushing feet Ch'aka appeared, swinging his club around +his head, coming directly towards Jason. Jason rolled desperately +sideways and the club crashed into the ground, then he was up and +running at top speed down the gully. Rocks twisted under his feet and +he knew that if he tripped he was dead, yet he had no choice other +than flight. The heavily armored Ch'aka could not keep up with him and +Jason managed to stay on his feet until the other was left behind. +Ch'aka shouted with rage and hurled curses after him, but he could not +catch him. Jason, panting for breath, vanished into the darkness and +made a slow circle back to the sleeping camp. The noise would have +roused them and he stayed away for an estimated hour, shivering in the +icy predawn, before he slipped back to his waiting skins. The sky was +beginning to gray and he lay awake wondering if he had been +recognized: he didn't think he had. + +As the red sun climbed over the horizon Ch'aka appeared on top of the +dunes, shaking with rage. + +"Who did it?" he screamed. "Who came in night." He stalked among them, +glaring right and left, and no one stirred except to draw away from +his stamping feet. "Who did it?" he shouted again as he came near the +spot where Jason lay. + +Five slaves pointed silently at Jason. + + * * * * * + +Cursing their betrayal Jason sprang up and ran from the whistling +club. He had the sharpened horn in his hand but knew better than to +try and stand up to Ch'aka in open combat; there had to be another +way. He looked back quickly to see his enemy still following and +narrowly missed tripping over the outstretched leg of a slave. They +were all against him! They were all against each other and no man was +safe from any other man's hand. He ran free of the slaves and +scrambled to the top of a shifting dune, pulling himself up the steep +slope by clutching at the coarse grass on the summit. He turned at the +top and kicked sand into Ch'aka's face, trying to blind him, but had +to run when the slaver swung down his crossbow and notched a steel +quarrel. Ch'aka chased him again, panting heavily. + +Jason was tiring now and he knew this was the best time to launch a +counterattack. The slaves were out of sight and it would be a battle +only between the two of them. Scrambling up a slope of broken rock he +reversed himself suddenly and leaped back down. Ch'aka was taken by +surprise and had his club only half-raised when Jason was upon him, +and he swung wildly. Jason ducked under the blow and used Ch'aka's +momentum to help throw him as he grabbed the club arm and pulled. Face +down the armored man crashed against the stones and Jason was +straddling his back even as he fell, clutching for his chin. He +lacerated his fingers on a jagged tooth necklace then grasped the +man's thick beard and pulled back. For a single long instant, before +he could writhe free and roll over, Ch'aka's head was stretched back, +and in that instant Jason plunged the sharp horn deep into the soft +flesh of the throat. Hot blood burst over his hand and Ch'aka +shuddered horribly under him and died. + +Jason climbed wearily to his feet, suddenly exhausted. He was alone +with his victim. The cold wind swept about them carrying the rustling +grains of sand, chilling the sweat on his body. Sighing once he wiped +his bloody hands on the sand and began to strip the corpse. Thick +straps held the shell helmet over the dead man's head and when he +unknotted them and pulled it away he saw that Ch'aka was well past +middle age. There was some gray in his beard, but his scraggly hair +was completely gray, his face and balding head pallid white from being +concealed under the helmet. It took a long time to get the wrappings +and armor off and retie them over himself, but it was finally done. +Under the skin and claw wrappings on Ch'aka's feet were Jason's boots, +filthy but undamaged, and Jason drew them on happily. When at last, +after scouring it out with sand, he had strapped on the helmet, Ch'aka +was reborn. The corpse on the sand was just another dead slave. Jason +scraped a shallow grave, interred and covered it. Then, slung about +with weapons, bags and crossbow, the club in his hand, he stalked back +to the waiting slaves. As soon as he appeared they scrambled to their +feet and formed a line. Jason saw Ijale looking at him worriedly, +trying to discover who had won the battle. + +[Illustration] + +"Score one for the visiting team," he called out, and she gave him a +small, frightened smile and turned away. "About face all and head back +the way we came. There is a new day dawning for you slaves. I know you +don't believe this yet, but there are some big changes in store." + +He whistled while he strolled after the line and chewed happily on the +first _krenoj_ that was found. + + +VI + +That evening they built a fire on the beach and Jason sat with his +back to the safety of the sea. He took his helmet off, the thing was +giving him a headache, and called Ijale over to him. + +"I hear Ch'aka. I obey." + +She ran hurriedly over to him and flopped onto the sand. + +"I want to talk to you," Jason said. "And my name is Jason, not +Ch'aka." + +"Yes, Ch'aka," she said, darting a quick glance at his exposed face, +then turning away. He grumbled and pushed the basket of _krenoj_ over +to her. + +"I can see where it is not going to be an easy thing changing this +social setup. Tell me, do you or any of the others ever have any +desire to be free?" + +"What is free?" + +"Well ... I suppose that answers my question. Free is what you are +when you are not a slave, or a slave owner, free to go where you want +and do what you want." + +"I wouldn't like that." She shivered. "Who would take care of me? How +could I find any _krenoj_? It takes many people together to find +_krenoj_, one alone would starve." + +"If you are free, you can combine with other free people and look for +_krenoj_ together." + +"That is stupid. Whoever found would eat and not share unless a master +made him. I like to eat." + +Jason rasped his sprouting beard. "We all like to eat, but that +doesn't mean we have to be slaves. But I can see that unless there are +some radical changes in this environment I am not going to have much +luck in freeing anyone, and I had better take all the precautions of a +Ch'aka to see that I can stay alive." + +He picked up his club and stalked off into the darkness, silently +circling the camp until he found a good-sized knoll with smooth sides. +Working by touch he pulled the little pegs from their bag and planted +them in rows, carefully laying the leather strings in their forked +tops. The ends of the strings were fastened to delicately balanced +steel bells that tinkled at the slightest touch. Thus protected he lay +down in the center of his warning spiderweb and spent a restless +night, half awake, waiting tensely for the bells to ring. + + * * * * * + +In the morning the march continued and they came to the barrier cairn, +and when the slaves stopped Jason urged them past it. They did this +happily, looking forward to witnessing a good fight for possession of +the violated territory. Their hopes were justified when later in the +day the other row of slaves was seen far off to the right, and a +figure detached itself and ran towards them. + +"Hate you, Ch'aka!" Fasimba shouted as he ran up, only this time he +meant what he said. "Coming on my ground, I kill you!" + +"Not yet," Jason called out. "And hate you, Fasimba, sorry I forgot +the formalities. I don't want any of your land and the old treaty or +whatever it is still holds. I just want to talk to you." + +Fasimba stopped, but kept his stone hammer ready, very suspicious. +"You got new voice, Ch'aka." + +"I got new Ch'aka, old Ch'aka now pushing up the daisies. I want to +trade back a slave from you and then we'll go." + +"Ch'aka fight hard. You must be good fighter Ch'aka." He shook his +hammer angrily. "Not as good as me, Ch'aka!" + +"You're the tops, Fasimba, nine slaves out of ten want you for a +master. Look, can't we get to the point, then I'll get my mob out of +here." He looked at the row of approaching slaves, trying to pick out +Mikah. "I want back the slave who had the hole in his head. I'll give +you two slaves in trade, your choice. What do you say to that?" + +"Good trade, Ch'aka. You pick one of mine, take the best, I'll take +two of yours. But hole-in-head gone. Too much trouble. Talk all the +time. I got sore foot from kicking him. Got rid of him." + +"Did you kill him?" + +"Don't waste slave. Traded him to the D'zertanoj. Got arrows. You want +arrows?" + +"Not this time, Fasimba, but thanks for the information." He rooted +around in a pouch and pulled out a _krenoj_. "Here, have something to +eat." + +"Where you get poisoned _krenoj_?" Fasimba asked with interest. "I +could use a poisoned _krenoj_." + +"This isn't poisoned, it's perfectly edible, or at least as edible as +these things ever are." + +Fasimba laughed. "You pretty funny, Ch'aka. I give you one arrow for +poisoned _krenoj_." + +"You're on," Jason said throwing the _krenoj_ to the ground between +them. "But I tell you it is perfectly good." + +"That's what I tell man I give it to. I got good use for a poisoned +_krenoj_." He threw an arrow into the sand away from them and grabbed +up the vegetable as he left. + +When Jason picked up the arrow it bent, and he saw that it was rusted +almost completely in two and that the break had been craftily covered +by clay. "That's all right," he called after the retreating slaver, +"just wait until your friend eats the _krenoj_." + + * * * * * + +The march continued, first back to the boundary cairn with the +suspicious Fasimba dogging their steps. Only after Jason and his band +had passed the border did the others return to their normal foraging. +Then began the long walk to the borders of the inland desert. Since +they had to search for _krenoj_ as they went it took them the better +part of three days to reach their destination. Jason merely started +the line in the correct direction, but as soon as he was out of sight +of the sea he had only a rough idea of the correct course, however he +did not confide his ignorance to the slaves and they marched steadily +on, along what was obviously a well-known route to them. Along the way +they collected and consumed a good number of _krenoj_, found two wells +from which they refilled the skin bags, and pointed out a huddled +animal sitting by a hole that Jason, to their un-voiced disgust, +managed to miss completely with a bolt from the crossbow. + +On the morning of the third day Jason saw a line of demarcation on the +flattened horizon and before the midday meal they came to a sea of +billowing, bluish-gray sand. The ending of what he had been accustomed +to thinking of as the desert was startling. Beneath their feet were +yellow sand and gravel, while occasional shrubs managed a sickly +existence as did some grass and the life-giving _krenoj_. Animals as +well as men lived here and, ruthless though survival was, they were at +least alive. In the wastes ahead no life was possible or visible, +though there seemed to be no doubt that the D'zertanoj lived there. +This must mean that though it looked unlimited--as Ijale believed it +to be--there were probably arable lands on the other side. Mountains +as well, if they weren't just clouds, since a line of gray peaks could +just be made out on the distant horizon. + +"Where do we find the D'zertanoj?" he asked the nearest slave who +merely scowled and looked away. Jason was having a problem with +discipline. The slaves would not do a thing he asked unless he kicked +them. Their conditioning had been so thorough that an order +unaccompanied by a kick just wasn't an order and his continued +reluctance to impose the physical coercion with the spoken command was +just being taken as a sign of weakness. Already some of the burlier +slaves were licking their lips and sizing him up. His efforts to +improve the life of the slaves were being blocked completely by the +slaves themselves. With a mumbled curse at the continued obduracy of +the human race Jason sank the toe of his boot into the man. + +[Illustration: Edipon] + +"Find them there by big rock," was the immediate response. + +There was a dark spot at the desert's edge in the indicated direction +and when they approached Jason saw that it was an outcropping of rock +that had been built up with a wall of bricks or boulders to a uniform +height. A good number of men could be concealed behind that wall and +he was not going to risk his precious slaves or even more precious +skin anywhere near it. At his shout the line halted and settled to the +sand while he stalked a few meters in front, settling his club in his +hand and suspiciously examined the structure. + +That there were unseen watchers was proven when a man appeared from +around the corner and walked slowly towards Jason. He was dressed in +loose-fitting robes and carried a basket on one arm, and when he had +reached a point roughly halfway between Jason and the rock he had just +quitted he halted and sat crosslegged in the sand, the basket at his +side. Jason looked carefully in all directions and decided the +position was safe enough. There were no places of concealment where +armed men might have hidden and he had no fear of the single man. Club +ready he walked out and stopped a full three paces from the other. + + * * * * * + +"Welcome, Ch'aka," the man said. "I was afraid we wouldn't be seeing +you again after that little ... difficulty we had." + +He remained seated while he talked, stroking the few strands of his +scraggly beard. His head was shaven smooth and as sunburned and +leathery brown as the rest of his face, the most prominent feature of +which was the magnificent prow of a nose that terminated in flaring +nostrils and was used as sturdy support for a pair of handmade +sunglasses. They appeared to be carved completely of bone and fit +tightly to the face, their flat, solid fronts were cut with thin +transverse slashes. This eye protection, the things could only have +been for weak eyes, and the network of wrinkles indicated the man was +quite old and would present no danger to Jason. + +"I want something," Jason said, in straightforward, Ch'akaish manner. + +"A new voice and a new Ch'aka--I bid you welcome. The old one was a +dog and I hope he died in great pain when you killed him. Now sit +friend Ch'aka and drink with me." He carefully opened the basket and +removed a stone crock and two crockery mugs. + +"Where you get poison drink?" Jason asked, remembering his local +manners. This _D'zertano_ was a smart one and had been able to tell +instantly from Jason's voice that there had been a change in slaves. +"And what your name?" + +"Edipon," the ancient said as, uninsulted, he put the drinking +apparatus back into the basket. "What is it that you want--within +reason that is? We always need slaves and we are always willing to +trade." + +"I want slave you got. I trade you two for one." + +The seated man smiled coldly from behind the shelter of his nose. "It +is not necessary to talk as ungrammatically as the coastal barbarians, +since I can tell by your accent that you are a man of education. What +slave is it that you want?" + +"The one that you just received from Fasimba. He belongs to me." Jason +abandoned his linguistic ruse and put himself even more on guard, +taking a quick look around at the empty sands. This dried up old bird +was a lot brighter than he looked and he would have to stay on guard. + +"Is that all you want?" Edipon asked. + +"All I can think of at this moment. You produce this slave and perhaps +we can talk more business." + +"I have an even better idea than that." + +Edipon's laugh had very dirty overtones and Jason sprang back when the +oldster put two fingers into his mouth and whistled shrilly between +them. There was the rustle of shifting sand and Jason wheeled to see +men apparently climbing out of the empty desert, pushing back wooden +covers over which the sand had been smoothed. There were six of them, +with shields and clubs, and Jason cursed his stupidity at meeting +Edipon on a spot of the other's choosing. He swung his club behind him +but the oldster was already scampering for the safety of the rock. +Jason howled in anger and ran at the nearest man who was still only +halfway out of his hiding place. The man took Jason's blow on his +upraised shield and was toppled back into the pit by the force of it. +Jason ran on but another was ahead of him, swinging his own war club +in readiness. There was no way around so Jason ran into him at full +speed with all of his pendant teeth and horns gnashing and clattering. +The man fell back under the attack and Jason split his shield with his +club, and would have done further damage except that the other men +arrived at that moment and he had to face them. + +It was a brief and wicked battle, with Jason giving just a little more +than he received. Two of the attackers were down and a third holding +his cracked head when the weight of numbers carried Jason to the +ground. He called to his slaves for aid, then cursed them when they +only remained seated, while his arms were pinioned with rope and his +weapons stripped from his body. One of the victors waved to the slaves +who now stood and docilely marched into the desert. Jason was dragged, +snarling with rage, in the same direction. + + * * * * * + +There was a wide opening in the desert-facing side of the wall and +once through it Jason's anger instantly vanished. Here was one of the +_caroj_ that Ijale had told him about: there could be no doubt of it. +He could now understand how, to her uneducated eye, there could exist +an uncertainty as to whether the thing was an animal or not. The +vehicle was a good ten meters long, shaped roughly like a boat, and +bore on the front a large and obviously false animal head covered with +fur and resplendent with rows of carved teeth and glistening crystal +eyes. There were hide coverings and not-too realistic legs hanging +about the thing, surely not enough camouflage to fool a sophisticated +six-year old. + +[Illustration] + +This sort of disguise might be good enough to take in the ignorant +savages, but the same civilized child would recognize this as a +vehicle as soon as he saw the six large wheels below. They were cut +with deep treads and made from some resilient looking substance. No +motive power was visible, but Jason almost hooted with joy at the +prominent stink of burnt fuel. This crude looking contrivance had some +artificial source of power, which might be the product of a local +industrial revolution or have been purchased from off-world traders. +Either possibility offered the chance of eventual escape from this +nameless planet. + +The slaves, some of them cringing with terror of the unknown, were +kicked up the gangplank and into the _caroj_. Four of the huskies who +had subdued and bound Jason carried him up and dumped him onto the +deck where he lay quietly and examined what could be seen of the +desert-vehicle's mechanism. A post projected from the front of the +deck and one of the men fitted what could only have been a tiller +handle over the squared top of it. If this monolithic apparatus +steered with the front pair of wheels it must be driven with the rear, +so Jason flopped around on the deck until he could look towards the +stern. A cabin, the width of the deck, was situated here, windowless +and with a single inset door fitted with a grand selection of locks +and bolts. Any doubt that this was the engine room was displaced by +the black metal smokestack that rose up through the cabin roof. + +"We are leaving," Edipon screeched and waved his thin arms in the air. +"Bring in the entranceway. Narsisi stand forward to indicate the way +to the _caroj_. Now--all pray as I go into the shrine to induce the +sacred powers to move us towards Putl'ko." He started towards the +cabin, then stopped to point to one of the club bearers. "Erebo you +lazy sod, did you remember to fill the watercup of the gods this time, +because they grow thirsty?" + +"I filled it, I filled it," Erebo muttered, chewing on a looted +_krenoj_. + + * * * * * + +Preparations made, Edipon went into the recessed doorway and pulled a +concealing curtain over it. There was much clanking and rattling as +the locks and bolts were opened and he let himself inside. Within a +few minutes a black cloud of greasy smoke rolled out of the smokestack +and was whipped away by the wind. Almost an hour passed before the +sacred powers were ready to move, and they announced their willingness +to proceed by screaming and blowing their white breath up in the air. +Four of the slaves screamed counterpoint and fainted, while the rest +looked as if they would be happier off dead. Jason had had some +experience with primitive machines before so the safety valve on the +boiler came as no great surprise. He was also prepared when the +vehicle shuddered and began to move slowly out into the desert. From +the amount of smoke and the quantity of steam escaping from under the +stern he didn't think the engine was very efficient, but primitive as +it was it moved the _caroj_ and its load of passengers across the sand +at a creeping yet steady pace. + +There were more screams from the slaves, and a few tried to leap over +the side but were clubbed down. The robe-wrapped D'zertanoj were +firmly working their way through the ranks of the captives, pouring +ladlefuls of dark liquid down their throats. The first ones to receive +it were already slumped unconscious or dead, though the chances were +better that they were unconscious since there was no reason for their +captors to kill them after going to such lengths to get them in the +first place. Jason believed this, but the terrified slaves did not +have the solace of his philosophy so struggled on, thinking that they +were fighting for their lives. When Jason's turn came he did not +submit meekly, in spite of his beliefs, and managed to bite some +fingers and kick one man in the stomach before they sat on him, held +his 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 on +Jason's face and some of it trickled down his throat making him cough. +Something hard was pressing into his back and his wrists hurt. Memory +seeped back slowly, the fight, the capture and the potion that had +been forced upon him. When he opened his eyes he saw a flickering +yellow lamp overhead, hung from a chain. He blinked at it and tried to +gather enough energy to sit up. A familiar face swam in front of the +light 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 some +grave questions to put to you." + +Jason groaned again. "You're real all right. Even in a nightmare I +wouldn'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 should +know something since you have been a slave of the D'zertanoj longer +than I have." Jason realized that the pain in his wrists came from +heavy iron shackles. A chain passed through them and was stapled to a +thick wooden bar on which his head had been resting. "Why the +chains--and what is the local hospitality like?" + +Mikah resisted the invitation to impart any vital information and +returned irresistibly to his own topic. + +"When I saw you last you were a slave of Ch'aka, and tonight you were +brought in with the other slaves of Ch'aka and chained to the bar +while you were unconscious. There was an empty place next to mine and +I 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 saw +that you were wearing the armor and helmet of Ch'aka. Where is the +man--what happened to him?" + +"Me Ch'aka," Jason rasped, and burst out coughing from the dryness in his +throat. He took a long drink of water from the bowl. "You sound very +vindictive, Mikah you old fraud. Where is all the turn-the-other-cheek +stuff now? Don't tell me you could possibly hate the man just because he +hit you on the head, fractured your skull and sold you down the river as a +slave reject? In case you have been brooding over this injustice you can +now be cheered because the evil Ch'aka is no more. He is buried in the +trackless wastes and after all the applicants were sifted out I got the +job." + +"You killed him?" + +"In a word--yes. And don't think that it was easy since he had all the +advantages and I possessed only my native ingenuity, which luckily +proved to be enough. It was touch and go for a while because when I +tried 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 would +tackle a monster like that face-to-face do you? Though it ended up +that way, since he had some neat gadgets for keeping track of people +in the dark. Briefly, we fought, I won, I became Ch'aka, though my +reign was neither long nor noble. I followed you as far as the desert +where I was neatly trapped by a shrewd old bird name of Edipon who +demoted me back to the ranks and took away all my slaves as well. Now +that'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 under +the restraint of the chain, and pointed the finger of judgment at +Jason. "Two more charges must be added to your role of infamy. I +sicken myself, Jason, that I could ever have felt sympathy for you and +tried to help you. I will still help you, but only to stay alive so +that you may be taken back to Cassylia for trial and execution." + +[Illustration] + +"I like that example of fair and impartial justice--trial _and_ +execution." Jason coughed again and drained the bowl of water. "Didn't +you ever hear of presumed innocence until proven guilty? It only +happens to be the mainstay of all jurisprudence. And how could you +possibly justify trying me on Cassylia for actions that occurred on +this planet--that aren't crimes here? That's like taking a cannibal +away from his tribe and executing him for anthropophagy." + +"What would be wrong with that? The eating of human flesh is a crime +so loathsome I shudder to think of it. Of course a man who does that +must be executed." + +"If he slips in the back door and eats one of your relatives, you +certainly have grounds for action. But not if he joins the rest of his +jolly tribe for a good roast of enemy. Don't you see the obvious point +here--that human conduct can only be judged in relation to its +environment? Conduct is relative. The cannibal in his society is just +as moral as the churchgoer in yours." + +"Blasphemer! A crime is a crime! There are moral laws that stand above +all human society." + +"Oh no there are not, that's just the point where your medieval +morality breaks down. All laws and ideas are historical and relative, +not absolute. They are relevant to their particular time and place and +taken out of context they lose their importance. Within the context of +this grubby society I acted in a most straightforward and honest +manner. I attempted to assassinate my master--which is the only way an +ambitious boy can get ahead in this hard world, and which was +undoubtedly the way Ch'aka himself got the job in the first place. +Assassination didn't work but combat did, and the results were the +same. Once in power I took good care of my slaves, though of course +they didn't appreciate it since they didn't want good care, they only +wanted my job, that being the law of the land. The only thing I really +did wrong was to not live up to my obligations as a slave holder and +keep them marching up and down the beaches forever. Instead I came +looking for you and was trapped and broken back to slavery where I +belong for pulling such a stupid trick." + +The door crashed open and harsh sunlight streamed into the windowless +building. "On your feet slaves!" a D'zertano shouted in through the +opening. + +A chorus of shufflings and groans broke out as the men stirred to +life. Jason could see now that he was one of twenty slaves shackled to +the long bar, apparently the entire trunk of a good-sized tree. The +man chained at the far end seemed to be a leader of sorts because he +cursed and goaded the others to life. When they were all standing he +snapped 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 drink +all 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 for +all you men, specially you new men. Give them a day's work here and +they 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 your +hands around the bar, get a good grip and ... _two_ ... lift it clear +of the ground, that's the way. And ... _three_ ... stand up and out +the door we go." + +They shuffled out into the sunlight and the cold wind of dawn bit +through his Pyrran coverall and the remnants of Ch'aka's leather +trappings that Jason had been allowed to keep. His captors had torn +off the claw-studded feet but not bothered the wrappings underneath, +so they hadn't found his boots. This was the only bright spot on an +otherwise unlimited vista of blackest gloom. Jason tried to be +thankful for small blessings, but only shivered some more. As soon as +possible this situation had to be changed since he had already served +his term as slave on this backwoods planet and was cut out for better +things. + +On order the slaves lined up against the walls of the yard. Presenting +their bowls like scruffy penitents they accepted dippers of lukewarm +soup from another slave who pushed along a wheeled tub of the stuff: +he was chained to the tub. Jason's appetite vanished when he tasted +the sludge. It was _krenoj_ soup, and the desert tubers tasted even +worse--he hadn't thought it was possible--when served up in a broth. +But survival was more important than fastidiousness, so he gulped the +evil stuff down. + + * * * * * + +Breakfast over they marched out the gate into another compound and +fascinated interest displaced all of Jason's concerns. In the center +of the yard was a large capstan into which the first group of slaves +were already fitting the end of their bar. Jason's group, and the two +others, shuffled into position and seated their bars, making a four +spoked wheel out of the capstan. An overseer shouted and the slaves +groaned and threw their weight against the bars until they shuddered +and began to turn, then trudging slowly they kept the wheel moving. +Once this slogging labor was under way Jason turned his attention to +the crude mechanism that they were powering. + +A vertical shaft from the capstan turned a creaking wooden wheel that +set a series of leather belts into motion. Some of them vanished +through openings into a large stone building, while the strongest +strap of all turned the rocker arm of what could only be a +counterbalanced pump. This all seemed like a highly inefficient way to +go about pumping water since there certainly must be natural springs +and lakes somewhere around. The pungent smell that filled the yard was +hauntingly familiar, and Jason had just reached the conclusion that +water couldn't be the object of their labors when a throaty gurgling +came from the standpipe of the pump and a thick black stream bubbled +out. + +"Petroleum--of course!" Jason enthused out loud, then bent his +attentions to pushing when the overseer gave him an ugly look and +cracked 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 the +surrounding walls. The captured slaves had been drugged so they would +not even know in which direction they had been brought to this hidden +site, or how long the trip was. Here in this guarded valley they +labored to pump the crude oil that their masters used to power their +big desert wagons. Or did they use crude oil for this? The petroleum +was gurgling out in a solid stream now, and running down an open +trough that vanished through the wall into the same building as the +turning belts. And what barbaric devilishness went on in there? A +thick chimney crowned the building and produced clouds of black smoke, +while from the various openings in the wall came a tremendous stench +that threatened to lift the top off his head. + +At the same moment that he realized what was going on in the building +a guarded door was opened and Edipon came out, blowing his sizable +nose in a scrap of rag. The creaking wheel turned and when its +rotation brought Jason around again he called out to him. + +"Hey, Edipon, come over here. I want to talk to you. I'm the former +Ch'aka, in case you don't recognize me out of uniform." + +Edipon gave him one look, then turned away dabbing at his nose. It was +obvious that slaves held no interest for him, no matter what their +position had been before their fall. The slave-driver ran over with a +roar, raising his whip, while the slow rotation of the wheel carried +Jason away. He shouted back over his shoulder. + +"Listen to me--I know a lot and can help you." Only a turned back for +an answer and the whip was already whistling down. It was time for the +hard sell. "You had better hear me--because I know that _what comes +out first is best_. Yeow!" This last was involuntary as the whip +landed. + +Jason's words were without meaning to the slaves as well as the +overseer who was raising his whip for another blow, but their impact +on Edipon was as dramatic as if he had stepped on a hot coal. He +shuddered to a halt and wheeled about, and even at this distance Jason +could see that a sickly gray tone had replaced his normal browned +color of his skin. + +"_Stop the wheel!_" he shouted. + + * * * * * + +This unexpected command drew the startled attention of everyone. The +gape-mouthed overseer lowered his whip while the slaves stumbled and +halted and the wheel groaned to a stop. In the sudden silence Edipon's +steps 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 prepared +to bite. + +"What was that you said?" He hurled the words at Jason while his +fingers half-plucked a knife from his belt. + +Jason smiled, looking and acting calmer than he felt. His barb had +gone home, but unless he proceeded carefully so would Edipon's +knife--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 in +front of all these strangers. I know what happens here because I come +from a place far away where we do this kind of thing all the time. I +can help you. I can show you how to get more of the best, and how to +make your _caroj_ work better. Just try me. Only unchain me from this +bar first and let's get to some place private where we can have a nice +chat." + +Edipon's thoughts were obvious. He chewed his lip and looked hotly at +Jason, fingering the edge of his knife. Jason only returned a smile of +pure innocence and tapped his fingers happily on the bar, just marking +time while he waited to be released. Yet in spite of the cold there +was a rivulet of sweat trickling down his spine. He was gambling +everything on Edipon's intelligence, that the man's curiosity would +overcome the immediate desire to silence the slave who knew so much +about things so secret, hoping that he would remember that slaves +could always be killed, and that it wouldn't hurt to ask a few +questions first. Curiosity won and the knife dropped back into the +sheath while Jason let his breath out in a relieved sigh. It had been +entirely too close, even for a professional gambler; his own life on +the board was a little higher stakes than he enjoyed playing for. + +"Release him from the bar and bring him to me," Edipon ordered, then +strode agitatedly away. The other slaves watched wide-eyed as the +blacksmith was rushed out, and with much confusion and shouted orders +Jason's chain was cut from the bar where it joined the heavy staple. + +"What are you doing?" Mikah asked, and one of the guards backhanded +him to the ground. Jason just smiled and touched his finger to his +lips as his chain was released and they led him away. He was free from +bondage and he would stay that way if he could convince Edipon that he +would be better off in some capacity other than dumb labor. + + * * * * * + +The room they led him to contained the first touches of decoration or +self-indulgence that he had seen on this planet. The furniture was +carefully constructed, with an occasional bit of carving to brighten +it, and there was a woven cover on the bed. Edipon stood by a table, +tapping his fingers nervously on the dark polished surface. "Lock him +up," he ordered the guards, and Jason was secured to a sturdy ringbolt +that projected from the wall. As soon as the guards were gone he stood +before Jason and drew his knife. "Tell me what you know or I will kill +you at once." + +"My past is an open book to you, Edipon. I come from a land where we +know 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 Edipon +was, and just how frank he could be with him. This was no time to get +tangled up in lies about planetary geography: it might be best to try +him on a small dose of the truth. "If I told you I came from another +planet, another world in the sky up among the stars, would you believe +me?" + +"Perhaps. There are many old legends that our forefathers came from a +world beyond the sky, but I have always dismissed this as religious +drivel, fit only for women." + +"In this case the girls happen to be right. Your planet was settled by +men whose ships crossed the emptiness of space as your _caroj_ pass +over the desert. Your people have forgotten about that and lost the +science and knowledge you once had, but in other worlds the knowledge +is still held." + +"Madness!" + +"Not at all, it is science, though many times confused as being the +same thing. I'll prove my point. You know that I could never have been +inside your mysterious building out there, and I imagine you can be +sure no one has told me its secrets. Yet I'll bet you that I can +describe fairly accurately what is in there--not from seeing the +machinery, but from knowing what must be done to oil in order to get +the products you need. Do you want to hear?" + +"Proceed," Edipon said, sitting on a corner of the table and balancing +the knife loosely in his palm. + +"I don't know what you call it, the device, but in the trade it is a +pot still used for fractional distillation. Your crude oil runs into a +tank of some kind, and you pipe it from there to a retort, some big +vessel that you can seal airtight. Once it is closed you light a fire +under the thing and try to get all the oil to an even temperature. A +gas rises from the oil and you take it off through a pipe and run it +through 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 it +drips the juice that you burn in your _caroj_ to make them move." + +Edipon's eyes opened wider and wider while Jason talked until they +stuck out of his head like boiled eggs. "Demon!" he screeched and +tottered towards Jason with the knife extended. "You couldn't have +seen, not through stone walls, yet only my family have seen, no +others--I'll swear to that!" + +"Keep cool, Edipon, I told you that we have been doing this stuff for +years in my country." He balanced on one foot, ready for a kick at the +knife in case the old man's nerves did not settle down. "I'm not out +to steal your secrets, in fact they are pretty small potatoes where I +come from since every farmer has a still for cooking up his own mash +and saving on taxes. I'll bet I can even put in some improvements for +you, sight unseen. How do you monitor the temperature on your cooking +brew? Do you have thermometers?" + +"What are thermometers?" Edipon asked, forgetting the knife for the +moment, drawn on by the joys of a technical discussion. + +"That's what I thought. I can see where your bootleg joyjuice is going +to take a big jump in quality, if you have anyone here who can do some +simple glassblowing. Though it might be easier to rig up a coiled +bi-metallic strip. You're trying to boil off your various fractions, +and unless you keep an even and controlled temperature you are going +to have a mixed brew. The thing you want for your engines are the most +volatile fractions, the liquids that boil off first like gasoline and +benzene. After that you raise the temperature and collect kerosene for +your lamps and so forth right on down the line until you have a nice +mass of tar left to pave your roads with. How does that sound to you?" + + * * * * * + +Edipon had forced himself into calmness, though a jumping muscle in +his cheek betrayed his inner tension. "What you have described is the +truth, though you were wrong on some small things. But I am not +interested in your thermometer nor in improving our water-of-power, it +has been good enough for my family for generations and it is good +enough for me...." + +"I bet you think that line is original?" + +"... There is something that you might be able to do that would bring +you 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 intercede +with the sacred powers to make us move. Can you tell me what power +moves the _caroj_?" + +"I hope this is the final exam, Edipon, because you are stretching my +powers of extrapolation. Stripping away all the _shrines_ and _sacred +powers_ I would say that you go into the engine room to do a piece of +work with very little praying involved. There could be a number of +ways of moving those barns, but let's think of the simplest. This is +top 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 to +handle it, plus the fact there was a lot to do about the water tank +and it took you almost an hour to get under way. That sounds like you +were getting up a head of steam--the safety valve! I forgot about +that. So it is steam. You go in, lock the door of course, then open a +couple of valves until the fuel drips into the firebox, then you light +it. Maybe you have a pressure gauge, or maybe you just wait until the +safety valve pops to tell you if you have a head of steam. Which can +be dangerous since a sticking valve could blow the whole works right +over the mountain. + +"Once you have the steam you crack a valve to let it into the +cylinders and get the thing moving. After that you just enjoy the +trip, of course making sure the water is feeding to your boiler all +right, that your pressure stays up, your fire is hot enough, all your +bearings 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 he +jabbed his knife into the table top and rushed over to Jason and +grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him until his chain rattled. + +"Do you know what you have done?" he asked. "Do you know what you have +said?" + +"I know well enough. Does this mean that I have passed the exam? Was I +right?" + +"I don't know if you are right or not. I have never seen the inside of +one of the Appsalan devil-boxes." He danced around the room again. +"You know more about their ... what do you call it, _engine_ ... than +I do. I have only spent my life tending them and cursing the people +of 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 they +will have to pay dearly for it." + +"Would you mind being a little bit clearer," Jason pleaded. "I have +never heard anything so confused in my entire life." + +"I will show you, man from a far world, and you will reveal the +Appsalan secrets to us. I see the dawn of a new day for Putl'ko +arriving." He opened the door and shouted for the guards, and for his +son, Narsisi, who arrived as they were unlocking Jason who recognized +him as the same droop-eyed and sleepy looking D'zertano who had been +helping Edipon to drive their ungainly vehicle. + +"Seize this chain my son and keep your club ready to kill this slave +if he makes any attempt to escape. Otherwise do not harm him, for he +is very valuable. Come." + +He tugged on the chain, but Jason only dug his heels in and did not +move. They looked at him, astonished. + +"Just a few things before we go. The man who is to bring the new day +to Putl'ko is not a slave, let us get that straight before this +operation goes any further. We'll work out something with chains or +guards 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 intend +to be treated that way. Figure it out for yourself. Kill a slave and +what do you lose? Very little if there is another slave in the pens +that 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 as +well as sleepy. + +"No, he doesn't mean that. He means if we kill him there is no one else +that can do the work he is to do for us. I can understand him and I do not +like it. There are only slaves and slavers, anything else is against the +natural order. But he has us trapped between _satano_ and the sand-storm +so we must allow him some freedoms. Bring the slave now ... I mean the +employee ... and we will see if he can do the things he has promised. If +he does not, _I_ will have the pleasure of killing him because I do not +like his revolutionary ideas." + + * * * * * + +They marched single file to a locked and guarded building with immense +doors, which were pulled open to reveal the massive forms of seven +_caroj_. + +"Look at them," Edipon hissed and tugged at his nose. "The finest and +most beautiful of constructions, striking fear into our enemies' +hearts, carrying us fleetly across the sands, bearing on their backs +immense loads and only three of the things are able to move." + +"Engine trouble?" Jason asked lightly. + +[Illustration] + +Edipon grumbled, cursed and fumed under his breath and led the way to +an inner courtyard where stood four immense black boxes painted with +death-heads, splintered bones, fountains of blood and cabalistic +symbols all of a sinister appearance. + +"Those swine in Appsala take our water-of-power and give nothing in +return. Oh yes, they let us use their engines, but after running for a +few months the cursed things stop and will not go again, then we must +bring them back to the city to exchange for a new one, and pay again +and again." + +"A nice racket," Jason said, looking at the sealed covering on the +engines. "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 the +boxes at the thought. "We have tried that, in my father's father's +day, since we are not superstitious like the slaves and know that +these are man-made not god-made. However the tricky serpents of +Appsala hide their secrets with immense cunning. If any attempt is +made 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 by +it develop immense blisters and die in pain. The man of Appsala +laughed when this happened to our people and after that raised the +price even higher." + +Jason circled one of the boxes, examining it with interest, trailing +Narsisi behind him at the end of the chain. The thing was higher than +his head and almost twice as long. A heavy shaft emerged through +openings on opposite sides, probably the power takeoff for the wheels. +Through an opening in the side he could see inset handles and two +small colored disks, and above this were three funnel-shaped openings +shaped and painted like mouths. By standing on tiptoe Jason looked on +top but there was only a flanged, sooty opening that must be for +attachment of a smokestack. There was only one more opening, a +smallish one in the rear, and no other controls on the garish +container. + +"I'm beginning to get the picture, but you will have to tell me how +you work the controls." + +"Death before that," Narsisi shouted. "Only my family--" + +"Will you shut up!" Jason shouted right back. "Remember? You're not +allowed to browbeat the help anymore. There are no secrets here. Not +only that, but I probably know more about this thing than you do just +by looking at it. Oil, water and fuel go in these three openings, you +poke a light in somewhere, probably in that smoky hole under the +controls, open one of those valves for fuel supply, another one is to +make the engine go slower and faster, and the third is for your water +feed. The disks are indicators of some kind." Narsisi paled and +stepped back. "So keep the trap shut while I talk to your dad." + +"It is as you say," Edipon pointed. "The mouths must always be filled +and woebetide if they shall go empty for the powers will halt or +worse. Fire goes in here as you guessed, and when the green finger +comes forward this lever may be turned for motion. The next is for +great speed or going slow. The very last is under the sign of the red +finger, which when it points indicates need, and the handle must be +turned and held until the finger retires. White breath comes from the +opening in back. That is all there is." + +"About what I expected," Jason muttered and examined the container +wall, rapping it with his knuckles until it boomed. "They give you the +minimum of controls to run the thing, so you won't learn anything +about the basic principles involved. Without the theory you would +never know what the handles control, or that the green indicator comes +out when you have operating pressure or the red one when the water +level is low in the boiler. Very neat. And the whole thing sealed up +in a can and booby-trapped in case you have any ideas of going into +business for yourself. + +"The cover sounds like it is double walled, and from your description +I would say that it has one of the vesicant war gases, like mustard +gas, sealed inside there in liquid form. Anyone who tries to cut their +way in will quickly forget their ambitions after a dose of that. Yet +there must be a way to get inside the case and service the engine, +they aren't just going to throw them away after a few months' use. And +considering the level of technology displayed by this monstrosity I +should be able to find the tricks and get around any other built-in +traps. I think I'll take the job." + +"Very well, begin." + +"Wait a minute, boss, you still have a few things to learn about hired +labor. There are always certain working conditions and agreements +involved, all of which I'll be happy to list for you." + + +VIII + +"What I do not understand is why you must have the other slave?" +Narsisi whined. "To have the woman of course is natural, as well as to +have quarters of your own, my father has given his permission. But he +also said that I and my brothers are to help you, that the secrets of +the engine are to be revealed to no one else." + +"Then trot right over to him and get permission for the slave Mikah to +join me in the work. You can explain that he comes from the same land +that I do, and that your secrets are mere children's toys to him. And +if dad wants any other reasons tell him that I need skilled aid, +someone who knows how to handle tools and who can be trusted to follow +directions exactly as given. You and your brothers have entirely too +many ideas of your own about how things should be done, and a tendency +to leave details up to the gods and have a good bash with the hammer +if things don't work the way they should." + +Narsisi retired, seething and mumbling to himself while Jason huddled +over the oil stove planning the next step. It had taken most of the +day to lay down logs for rollers and to push the sealed engine out +into the sandy valley, far from the well site; open space was needed +for any experiments where a mistake could release a cloud of war gas. +Even Edipon had finally seen the sense of this, though all of his +tendencies were to conduct the experiments with great secretiveness +behind locked doors. He had granted permission only after skin walls +had been erected to form an enclosure that could be guarded; it was +only incidental that they acted as a much-appreciated windbreak. + +And after much argument the dangling chains and shackles had been +removed from Jason's arms and light-weight leg-irons substituted. He +had to shuffle when he walked but his arms were completely free, a +great improvement over the chains, even though one of the brothers +kept watch with a cocked crossbow as long as Jason wasn't fastened +down. Now he had to get some tools and some idea of the technical +knowledge of these people before he could proceed, which would +necessarily entail one more battle over their precious secrets. + +"Come on," he called to his guard, "let's find Edipon and give his +ulcers another twinge." + +After his first enthusiasm the leader of the D'zertanoj was getting +very little pleasure out of his new project. + +"You have quarters of your own," he grumbled, "and the slave woman to +cook for you, and I have just given permission for the other slave to +help you. Now more requests--do you want to drain all the blood from +my body?" + +"Let's not dramatize too much. I simply want some tools to get on with +my work, and a peek at your machine shop or wherever it is you do your +mechanical work. I have to have some idea of the way you people solve +mechanical problems before I can go to work on that box of tricks out +there in the desert." + +"Entrance is forbidden--" + +"Regulations are snapping like straws today, so we might as well go on +and finish off a few more. Will you lead the way?" + +The guards were reluctant to open the refinery building gates to +Jason, and there was much rattling of keys and worried looks. A brace +of elderly D'zertanoj, stinking of oil fumes, emerged from the +interior and joined in a shouted argument with Edipon whose will +finally prevailed. Chained again, and guarded like a murderer, Jason +was begrudgingly led into the dark interior, the contents of which was +depressingly anticlimactic. + +"Really from rubeville," Jason sneered and kicked at the boxful of +hand-forged and clumsy tools. The work was of the crudest, the product +of a sort of neolithic machine age. The distilling retort had been +laboriously formed from sheet copper and clumsily riveted together. It +leaked mightily as did the soldered seams on the hand-formed pipe. +Most of the tools were blacksmith's tongs and hammers for heating and +beating out shapes on the anvil. The only things that gladdened +Jason's heart were the massive drill press and lathe that worked off +the slave-power drive belts. In the tool holder of the lathe was +clamped a chip of some hard mineral that did a good enough job of +cutting the forged iron and low-carbon steel. Even more cheering was +the screw-thread advance on the cutting head that was used to produce +the massive nuts and bolts that secured the _caroj_ wheels to their +shafts. It could have been worse. Jason sorted out the smallest and +handiest tools and put them aside for his own use in the morning. The +light was almost gone and there would be no more work this day. + + * * * * * + +They left, in armed procession, as they came, and a brace of brothers +showed him to the kennellike room that was to be his private quarters. +The heavy bolt thudded shut in the door behind him and he winced at +the thick fumes of half-burnt kerosene through which the light of the +single-wick lamp barely penetrated. Ijale crouched over the small oil +stove cooking something in a pottery bowl. She looked up and smiled +hesitatingly at Jason, then turned back to the stove. Jason walked +over, sniffed and shuddered. + +"What a feast! _Krenoj_ soup, and I suppose followed by fresh _krenoj_ +and _krenoj_ salad. Tomorrow I see about getting a little variety into +the diet." + +"Ch'aka is great," she whispered without looking up. "Ch'aka is +powerful...." + +"Jason is the name, I lost the Ch'aka job when they took the uniform +away." + +"... Jason is powerful to work charms on the D'zertanoj and makes them +do what he will. His slave thanks you." + +He lifted her chin and the dumb obedience in her eyes made him wince. +"Can't we forget about the slavery bit? We are in this thing together +and we'll get out of it together." + +"We will escape, I knew it. You will kill all the D'zertanoj and +release your slaves and lead us home again where we can march and find +_krenoj_ far from this terrible place." + +"Some girls are sure easy to please. That is roughly what I had in +mind, except when we get out of here we are going in the other +direction, as far away from your _krenoj_ crowd as I can get." + +Ijale listened attentively, stirring the soup with one hand and +scratching inside her leather wrappings with the other. Jason found +himself scratching as well, and realized from sore spots on his hide +that he had been doing an awful lot of this since he had been dragged +out of the ocean of this inhospitable planet. + +"Enough is enough!" he exploded and went over and hammered on the +door. "This place is a far cry from civilization as I know it, but +that is no reason why we can't be as comfortable as possible." Chains +and bolts rattled outside the door and Narsisi pushed his gloom-ridden +face in. + +"Why do you cry out? What is wrong?" + +"I need some water, lots of it." + +"But you have water," Narsisi said, puzzled, and pointed to a stone +crock in the corner. "There is water there enough for days." + +"By your standards, Nars old boy, not mine. I want at least ten times +as much as that and I want it now. And some soap, if there is such +stuff in this barbaric place." + +There was a good deal of argument involved, but Jason finally got his +way with the water by explaining it was needed for religious rites to +make sure that he would not fail in the work tomorrow. It came in a +varied collection of containers along with a shallow bowl full of +powerful soft soap. + +"We're in business," he chortled. "Take your clothes off, I have a +surprise for you." + +"Yes, Jason," Ijale said, smiling happily. + +"You're going to get a bath. Do you know what a bath is?" + +"No," she said, and shuddered. "It sounds evil." + +"Over here and off with the clothes," he ordered, poking at a hole in +the floor. "This should serve as a drain, at least the water went away +when I poured some into it." + +The water was warm from the stove, yet Ijale still crouched against +the wall and shuddered when he poured it over her. She screamed when +he rubbed the slippery soap into her hair, and he continued with his +hand over her mouth so that she wouldn't bring in the guards. He +rubbed the soap into his own head, too, and it tingled delightfully as +it soaked through to his scalp. Some of it was in his ears, muffling +them, so the first intimation he had that the door was opened was the +sound of Mikah's hoarse shout. He was standing in the doorway, finger +pointed and shaking with wrath. Narsisi was standing behind him, +peering over his shoulder with fascination at this weird religious +rite. + +"Degradation!" Mikah thundered. "You force this poor creature to bend +to your will, humiliate her, strip her clothes from her and gaze upon +her though you are not united in lawful wedlock." He shielded his eyes +from sight with a raised arm. "You are evil, Jason, a demon of evil +and must be brought to justice--" + +"_Out!_" Jason roared, and spun Mikah about and started him through +the door with one of his practiced Ch'aka kicks. "The only evil here +is in your mind, you snooping scut. I'm giving the girl the first +scrubbing of her life and you should be giving me a medal for bringing +sanitation to the natives instead of howling like that." He pushed +them both out the door and shouted at Narsisi. "I wanted this slave, +but not _now_! Lock him up until morning then bring him back." He +slammed the door and made a mental note to get hold of a bolt to be +placed on this side as well. + + * * * * * + +There were more _krenoj_ for breakfast but Jason was feeling too good +physically to mind. He was scrubbed raw and clean and the itching was +gone even from his sprouting beard. The metalcloth of his Pyrran +coverall had dried almost as soon as it had been washed so he was +wearing clean clothes as well. Ijale was still recovering from the +traumatic effects of her bath, but she looked positively attractive +with her skin cleaned and her hair washed and combed a bit. He would +have to find some of the local cloth for her since it would be a shame +to ruin the good work by letting her get back into the badly cured +skins she was used to wearing. It was with a sensation of positive +good feeling that he bellowed for the door to be opened and stamped +through the cool morning to his place of labor. Mikah was already +there, looking scruffy and angry as he rattled his chains; Jason gave +him the friendliest of smiles that only rubbed salt into the other's +moral wounds. + +"Leg-irons for him, too," Jason ordered, "And do it fast. We have a +big job to do today." He turned back to the sealed engine, rubbing his +hands together with anticipation. + +The concealing hood was made of thin metal that could not hide many +secrets. He carefully scratched away some of the paint and discovered +a crimped and soldered joint where the sides met, but no other +revealing marks. After an hour spent tapping all over with his ear +pressed to the metal he was sure that the hood was just what he had +thought it was when he first examined the thing--a double-walled metal +container filled with liquid. Puncture it and you were dead. It was +there merely to hide the secrets of the engine, and served no other +function. Yet it had to be passed to service the steam engine--or did +it? The construction was roughly cubical, and the hood covered only +five sides. What about the sixth, the base? + +"Now you're thinking, Jason," he chortled to himself, and knelt down +to examine it. A wide flange, apparently of cast iron, projected all +around, and was penetrated by four large bolt holes. The protective +casing seemed to be soldered to the base, but there must be stronger +concealed attachments because it would not move even after he +carefully scratched away some of the solder at the base. Therefore the +answer simply had to be on the sixth side. + +"Over here, Mikah," he called, and the man detached himself +reluctantly from the warmth of the stove and shuffled up. "Come close +and look at this medieval motive-power while we talk, as if we are +discussing business. Are you going to co-operate with me?" + +"I do not want to, Jason. I am afraid that you will soil me with your +touch, as you have others." + +"Well you're not so clean now--" + +"I do not mean physically." + +"Well I do. You could certainly do with a bath and a deep shampoo. I'm +not worried about the state of your soul, you can battle that out on +your own time. But if you work with me I'll find a way to get us out +of this place and to the city that made this engine, because if there +is a way off this planet we'll find it only in the city." + +"I know that, yet I still hesitate--" + +"Small sacrifices now for the greater good later. Isn't the entire +purpose of this trip to get me back to justice? You're not going to +accomplish that by rotting out the rest of your life as a slave." + +"You are the devil's advocate the way you twist my conscience--yet +what you say is true. I will help you here so that we can escape." + +"Fine. Now get to work. Take Narsisi and have him round up at least +three good-sized poles, the kind we were chained to in the pumping +gang. Bring them back here along with a couple of shovels." + + * * * * * + +Slaves carried the poles only as far as the outside of the skin walls, +since Edipon would not admit them inside, and it was up to Jason and +Mikah to drag them laboriously to the site. The D'zertanoj, who never +did physical labor, thought it was very funny when Jason suggested +that they help. Once in position by the engine, Jason dug channels +beneath it and forced the bars under. When this was done he took turns +with Mikah in digging out the sand beneath until the engine stood over +a pit supported only by the bars. Jason let himself down and examined +the bottom of the machine. It was smooth and featureless. + +Once more he scratched away the paint with careful precision, until it +was cleared around the edges. Here the solid metal gave way to solder +and he picked at this until he discovered that a piece of sheet metal +had been soldered at the edges and fastened to the bedplate. "Very +tricky, these Appsalanoj," he chortled and attacked the solder with a +knife blade. When one end was loose he slowly pulled the sheet of +metal away, making positive that there was nothing attached to it, nor +that it had been booby-trapped in any way. It came off easily enough +and clanged down into the pit. The revealed surface was smooth metal, +featureless and hard. + +"Enough for one day," Jason said, climbing out of the pit and brushing +off his hands. It was almost dark. "We've accomplished enough for now +and I want to think a bit before I go ahead. So far luck has been on +our side, but I don't think it should be this easy. I hope you brought +your suitcase with you, Mikah, because you're moving in with me." + +"Never! A sink of sin, depravity--" + +Jason looked him coldly in the eye and with each word he spoke he +stabbed him in the chest with his finger to drive home the point. "You +are moving in with me because that is essential to our plans. And if +you stop referring to my moral weaknesses I'll stop talking about +yours. Now come on." + +Living with Mikah Samon was trying, but barely possible. He made Ijale +and Jason go to the far wall and turn their backs and promise not to +look while he bathed behind a screen of skins. Jason did this but +exacted a small revenge by telling Ijale jokes so that they tittered +together and Mikah would be sure they were laughing at him. The screen +of skins remained after the bath, and was reinforced, and Mikah +retired behind it to sleep. Their food still consisted only of +_krenoj_ and Jason shuddered while he admitted that he was actually +growing used to them. + +The following morning, under the frightened gaze of his guards, Jason +tackled the underside of the baseplate. He had been thinking about it +a good part of the night and he put his theories to the test at once. +By pressing hard on a knife he could make a good groove in the metal. +It was not as soft as the solder, but seemed to be some simple alloy +containing a good percentage of lead. What could it be concealing? +Probing carefully with the point of the knife he covered the bottom in +a regular pattern. The depth of the metal was uniformly deep except in +two spots where he found irregularities, they were on the midline of +the rectangular base, and equidistant from the ends and sides. Picking +and scraping he uncovered two familiar looking shapes each as big as +his head. + +"Mikah. Get down in this hole and look at these things. Tell me what +you think they are." + +Mikah scratched his beard. "They're still covered with this metal, I +can't be sure--" + +"I'm not asking you to be sure of anything--just tell me what they +make you think of." + +"Why ... big nuts of course. Threaded on the ends of bolts. But they +are so big--" + +"They would have to be if they hold the entire metal case on. I think +we are getting very close now to the mystery of how to open the +engine--and this is the time to be careful. I still can't believe it +is as easy as this to crack the secret. I'm going to whittle a wooden +template of the nut, then have a wrench made. While I'm gone you stay +down here and pick all the metal off the bolt and out of the screw +threads. I can put off doing it while we think this thing through, but +sooner or later I'm going to have to take a stab at turning one of +those nuts. And I find it very hard to forget about that mustard gas." + +Making the wrench put a small strain on the local technology and all +of the old men who enjoyed the title of Masters of the Still went into +consultation over it. One of them was a fair blacksmith and after a +ritual sacrifice and a round of prayers he shoved a bar of iron into +the charcoal and Jason pumped the bellows until it glowed white hot. +With much hammering and cursing it was laboriously formed into a +sturdy open-end wrench with an offset head to get at the countersunk +nuts. Jason made sure that the opening was slightly undersized, then +took the untempered wrench to the work site and filed the jaws to an +exact fit. After being reheated and quenched in oil he had the tool +that he hoped would do the job. + + * * * * * + +Edipon must have been keeping track of the work progress because he +was waiting near the engine when Jason returned with the completed +wrench. + +"I have been under," he announced, "and have seen the nuts that the +devilish Appsalanoj have concealed within solid metal. Who would have +suspected! It still seems to me impossible that one metal could be +hidden within another, how could that be done?" + +[Illustration] + +"Easy enough. The base of the assembled engine was put into a form and +the molten covering metal poured into it. It must have a much lower +melting point than the steel of the engine so there would be no +damage. They just have a better knowledge of metal technology in the +city and counted on your ignorance." + +"Ignorance! You insult--" + +"I take it back. I just meant they thought they could get away with +the trick, and since they didn't they are the stupid ones. Does that +satisfy you?" + +"What do you do next?" + +"I take off the nuts and when I do there is a good chance that the +poison-hood will be released and can simply be lifted off." + +"It is too dangerous for you to do, the fiends may still have other +traps ready when the nut is turned. I will send a strong slave to turn +them while we watch from a distance, his death will not matter." + +"I'm touched by your concern for my health, but as much as I would +like to take advantage of the offer, I cannot. I've been over the same +ground and reached the reluctant conclusion that this is one job of +work that I have to do myself. Taking off those nuts looks entirely +too easy, and that's what makes me suspicious. I'm going to do it and +look out for any more trickery at the same time--and that is something +that only I can do. Now I suggest you withdraw with the troops to a +safer spot." + +There was no hesitation about leaving, footsteps rustled quickly on +the sand and Jason was alone. The leather walls flapped slackly in the +wind and there was no other sound. Jason spat on his palms, controlled +a slight shiver and slid into the pit. The wrench fitted neatly over +the nut, he wrapped both hands around it and, bracing his leg against +the pit wall, began to pull. + +And stopped. Three turns of thread on the bolt projected below the +nut, scraped clean of metal by the industrious Mikah. Something about +them looked very wrong but he didn't know quite what. + +[Illustration] + +"Mikah," he shouted, and had to call loudly two more times before his +assistant poked his head tentatively around the screen. "Nip over to +the petroleum works and get me one of their bolts threaded with a nut, +any size, it doesn't matter." + +Jason warmed his hands by the stove until Mikah returned with the oily +bolt, then waved him out to rejoin the others. Back in the pit he held +it up next to the protruding section of Appsalan bolt and chortled +with joy. The threads on the angle bolt were canted at a slightly +different angle: where one ran up, the other ran down. The Appsalan +threads had been cut in reverse, with a lefthand thread. + +Throughout the galaxy there existed as many technical and cultural +differences as there were planets, yet one of the few things they all +had in common, inherited from their terrestrial ancestors, was a +uniformity of thread. Jason had never thought about it before, but +when he mentally ran through his experiences on different planets he +realized that they were all the same. Screws went into wood, bolts +went into threaded holes and nuts all went onto bolts when you turned +them with a clockwise motion. Counterclockwise removed them. In his +hand was the crude D'zertano nut and bolt, and when he tried it it +moved in the same manner. But the engine bolt did not work that +way--it had to be turned clockwise to _remove_ it. + + * * * * * + +Dropping the nut and bolt he placed the wrench on the massive engine +bolt and slowly applied pressure in what felt like the completely +wrong direction, as if he were tightening not loosening. It gave +slowly, first a quarter then a half turn. And bit by bit the +projection threads vanished until they were level with the surface of +the nut. It turned easily now and within a minute it fell into the +pit--he threw the wrench after it and scrambled out. Standing at the +edge he carefully sniffed the air, ready to run at the slightest smell +of gas. There was nothing. + +The second nut came off as easily as the first and with no ill +effects. Jason pushed a sharp chisel between the upper case and the +baseplate where he had removed the solder, and when he leaned on it +the case shifted slightly, held down only by its own weight. + +From the entrance to the enclosure he shouted to the group huddled in +the distance. "Come on back--this job is almost finished." + +They all took turns at sliding into the pit and looking at the +projecting bolts and made appreciative sounds when Jason leaned on the +chisel and showed how the case was free. + +"There is still the little matter of taking it off," he told them, +"and I'm sure that grabbing and heaving is the wrong way. That was my +first idea too, but the people who assembled that thing had some bad +trouble in store for anyone who tightened those nuts instead of +loosening them. Until we find out what that is we are going to tread +very lightly. Do you have any big blocks of ice around here, Edipon? +It is winter now, isn't it?" + +"Ice? Winter?" Edipon mumbled, caught off guard by the change of +direction, rubbing abstractedly at the reddened tip of his prominent +nose. "Of course it is winter. Ice, there must be ice at the higher +lakes in the mountain, they are always frozen at this time of the +year. But what do you want ice for?" + +"You get it and I'll show you. Have it cut in nice flat blocks that I +can stack. I'm not going to lift the hood--I'm going to drop the +engine out from underneath it!" + +By the time the slaves had brought the ice down from the distant lakes +Jason had rigged a strong wooden frame flat on the ground around the +engine and pushed sharpened metal wedges under the hood, then had +secured the wedges to the frame. Now, if the engine was lowered into +the pit, the hood would stay above supported by the wedges. The ice +would take care of this. Jason built a foundation of ice under the +engine then slipped out the supporting bars. Now as the ice slowly +melted the engine would be gently lowered into the pit. + +The weather remained cold and the ice refused to melt until Jason had +the pit ringed with smoking oil stoves. Water began to run down into +the pit and Mikah went to work bailing it out, while the gap between +the hood and the baseplate widened. The melting continued for the rest +of the day and almost all of the night. Red-eyed and exhausted Jason +and Mikah supervised the soggy sinking and when the D'zertanoj +returned at dawn the engine rested safely in a pool of mud on the +bottom of the pit: the hood was off. + +"They're tricky devils over there in Appsala, but Jason dinAlt wasn't +born yesterday," he exulted. "Do you see that crock sitting there on +top of the engine," he pointed to a sealed container of thick glass +the size of a small barrel, filled with an oily greenish liquid; it +was clamped down tightly with padded supports. "That's the booby trap. +The nuts I took off were on the threaded ends of two bars that held +the hood on, but instead of being fastened directly to the hood they +were connected by a crossbar that rested on top of that jug. If either +nut was tightened instead of being loosened, the bar would have bent +and broken the glass. I'll give you exactly one guess as to what would +have happened then." + +"The poison liquid!" + +"None other. And the double-walled hood is filled with it, too. I +suggest that as soon as we have dug a deep hole in the desert the hood +and container be buried and forgotten about. I doubt if the engine has +many other surprises in store, but I'll be careful as I work on it." + +"You can fix it? You know what is wrong with it?" Edipon was vibrating +with joy. + +"Not yet, I have barely looked at the thing. In fact one look was +enough to convince that the job will be as easy as stealing _krenoj_ +from a blind man. The engine is as inefficient and clumsy in +construction as your petroleum still. If you people put one tenth of +the energy into research and improving your product as you do into +hiding it from the competition, you would all be flying jets." + +"I forgive your insult because you have done us a service. You will +now fix this engine and the other engines. A new day is breaking for +us!" + +"Right now it is a new night that is breaking for me," Jason yawned. +"I have two days sleep to make up. See if you can talk your sons into +wiping the water off that engine before it rusts away, and when I get +back I'll see what I can do about getting it into running condition." + + +IX + +Edipon's good mood remained and Jason took advantage of it by +extracting as many concessions as possible. By hinting that there +might be more traps in the engine permission was easily gained to do +all the work on the original site instead of inside the sealed and +guarded buildings. A covered shed gave them protection from the +weather and a test stand was constructed to hold the engines when +Jason worked on them. This was of a unique design and built to Jason's +exacting specification, and since no one, including Mikah, had ever +heard of or seen a test stand before Jason had his way. + +The first engine proved to have a burnt-out bearing and Jason rebuilt +it by melting down the original bearing metal and casting it in +position. When he unbolted the head of the massive single cylinder he +shuddered at the clearance around the piston; he could fit his fingers +into the opening between the piston and the cylinder wall; by +introducing cylinder rings he doubled the compression and power +output. When Edipon saw the turn of speed the rebuilt engine gave his +_caroj_ he hugged Jason to his bosom and promised him the highest +reward. This turned out to be a small piece of meat every day to +relieve the monotony of the _krenoj_ meals, and a doubled guard to +make sure that his valuable property did not escape. + +Jason had his own plans and kept busy manufacturing a number of +pieces of equipment that had nothing at all to do with his +engine-overhauling business. While these were being assembled he went +about lining up a little aid. + +"What would you do if I gave you a club?" he asked a burly slave whom +he was helping to haul a log towards his workshop. Narsisi and one of +his brothers lazed along out of earshot, bored by the routine of the +guard duty. + +"What I do with club?" the slave grunted, forehead furrowing and mouth +gaping open with the effort of thought. + +"That's what I asked. And keep pulling while you think, I don't want +the guards to notice anything." + +"If I have club, I kill!" the slave announced excitedly, fingers +grasping eagerly for coveted weapon. + +"Would you kill me?" + +"I have club, I kill you, you not so big." + +"But if I gave you the club wouldn't I be your friend? Then wouldn't +you want to kill someone else?" + +The novelty of this alien thought stopped the slave dead and he +scratched his head perplexedly until Narsisi lashed him back to work. +Jason sighed and found another slave to try his sales program on. + +It took a while, but the idea was eventually percolating through the +ranks of the slaves. All they had to look forward to from the +D'zertanoj was backbreaking labor and an early death. Jason offered +them something else, weapons, a chance to kill their masters, and even +more killing later when they marched on Appsala. It was difficult for +them to grasp the idea that they must work together to accomplish this +and not kill Jason and each other as soon as they received weapons. + +It was a chancy plan at best, and would probably break down long +before any visit could be made to the city. But the revolt should be +enough to free them from bondage, even if the slaves fled afterwards. +There were less than fifty D'zertanoj at this well station, all men, +with their women and children at some other settlement further back in +the hills. It would not be too hard to kill them or chase them off and +long before they could bring reinforcements Jason and his runaway +slaves would be gone. There was just one factor missing from his plans +and a new draft of slaves solved even that problem for him. + +"Happy days," he laughed, pushing open the door to his quarters and +rubbing his hands together with glee. The guard shoved Mikah in after +him and locked the door. Jason secured it with his own interior bolt +then waved the two others over to the corner farthest from the door +and tiny window opening. + + * * * * * + +"New slaves today," he told them, "and one of them is from Appsala, a +mercenary or a soldier of some kind that they captured on a skirmish. +He knows that they will never let him live long enough to leave here, +so he was grateful for any suggestions I had." + +"This is man's talk I do not understand," Ijale said, turning away and +starting towards the cooking fire. + +"You'll understand this," Jason said, taking her by the shoulder. +"The soldier knows where Appsala is and can lead us there. The time +has come to think about leaving this place." + +He had all of her attention now, and Mikah's as well, "How is this?" +she gasped. + +"I have been making my plans, I have enough files and lockpicks now to +crack into every room in this place, a few weapons, the key to the +armory and every able bodied slave on my side." + +"What do you plan to do?" Mikah asked. + +"Stage a servile revolt in the best style. The slaves fight the +D'zertanoj and we get away, perhaps with an army helping us, but at +least we get away." + +"You are talking _revolution_!" Mikah bellowed and Jason jumped him +and knocked him to the floor. Ijale held his legs down while Jason +squatted on his chest and covered his mouth. + +"What is the matter with you? Want to spend the rest of your life +rebuilding stolen engines? They are guarding us too well for there to +be much chance of our breaking out on our own, so we need allies. We +have them ready made, all the slaves." + +"Brevilushun...." Mikah mumbled through the restraining fingers. + +"Of course it's a revolution. It is also the only possible chance of +survival that these poor devils will ever have. Now they are human +cattle, beaten and killed on whim. You can't be feeling sorry for the +D'zertanoj--every one of them is a murderer ten times over. You've +seen them beat people to death. Do you feel that they are too nice to +suffer a revolution?" + +Mikah relaxed and Jason removed his hand slightly, ready to clamp down +if the other's voice rose above a whisper. + +"Of course they are not nice, beasts in human garb is more truthful. I +feel no mercy for them and they should be wiped out and blotted from +the face of the earth as was Sodom and Gomorrah. But it cannot be done +by revolution, revolution is evil, inherently evil." + +Jason stifled a groan. "Try telling that to two-thirds of the +governments that now exist, since that's about how many were founded +by revolution. Nice, liberal democratic governments--that were started +by a bunch of lads with guns and the immense desire to run things in a +manner more beneficial to themselves. How else do you get rid of the +powers on your neck if there is no way to legally vote them away? If +you can't vote them--shoot them." + +"Bloody revolution, it cannot be!" + +"All right, no revolution," Jason said, getting up and wiping his +hands disgustedly. "We'll change the name. How about calling it a +prison break? No, you wouldn't like that either. I have +it--liberation! We are going to strike the chains off these poor +people and restore them to the lands from which they were stolen. The +tiny fact that the slave holders regard them as property and won't +think much of the idea, therefore might get hurt in the process, +shouldn't bother you. So--will you join me in this Liberation +Movement?" + +"It is still revolution." + +"It is whatever I decide to call it!" Jason raged. "You come along +with me on the plans or you will be left behind when we go. You have +my word on that." He stomped over and helped himself to some soup and +waited for his anger to simmer down. + +"I cannot do it ... I cannot do it," Mikah brooded, staring into his +rapidly cooling soup as into an oracular crystal ball, seeking +guidance there. Jason turned his back in disgust. + + * * * * * + +"Don't end up like him," he warned Ijale, pointing his spoon back over +his shoulder. "Not that there is much chance that you ever will coming +as you do from a society with its feet firmly planted on the ground, +or on the grave to be more accurate. Your people see only concrete +facts, and only the most obvious ones, and as simple an abstraction as +'trust' seems beyond you. While this long-faced clown can only think +in abstractions of abstractions, and the more unreal they are the +better. I bet he even worries about how many angels can dance on the +head of a pin." + +"I do not worry about it," Mikah broke in, overhearing the remark. +"But I do think about it once in a while, it is a problem that cannot +be lightly dismissed." + +"You see?" + +Ijale nodded. "If he is wrong, and I am wrong--then you must be the +only one who is right." She nodded in satisfaction at the thought. + +"Very nice of you to say so," Jason smiled. "And true, too. I lay no +claims to infallibility but I am sure that I can see the difference +between abstractions and facts a lot better than either of you, and I +am certainly more adroit at handling them. The Jason dinAlt fan club +meeting is now adjourned." He reached his hand over his shoulder and +patted himself on the back. + +"Monster of arrogance," Mikah bellowed. + +"Oh, shut up." + +"Pride goeth before a fall! You are a maledicent and idolatrous +antipietist...." + +"Very good." + +"... And I grieve that I could have considered aiding you for even a +second, or of standing by while you sin, and fear for the weakness of +my own soul that I have not been able to resist temptation as I +should. It grieves me, but I must do my duty." He banged loudly on the +door. "Guard! Guard!" + +Jason dropped his bowl and started to scramble to his feet, but +slipped in the spilled soup and fell. As he stood again the locks +rattled on the door and it opened. If he could reach Mikah before the +idiot opened his mouth he would close it forever, or at least knock +him out before it was too late. + +It was too late. Narsisi poked his head in and blinked sleepily; Mikah +struck his most dramatic pose and pointed to Jason. "Seize and arrest +that man, I denounce him for attempted revolution, for planning red +murder!" + +Jason skidded to a halt and back-tracked, diving into a bag of his +personal belongings that lay against the wall. He scrabbled in it, +then kicked the contents about and finally came up with a +metal-forming hammer that had a weighty solid lead head. + +"More traitor you," Jason shouted at Mikah as he ran at Narsisi who +had been dumbly watching the performance and mulling over Mikah's +words. Slow as he appeared, there was nothing wrong with his reflexes +and his shield snapped up and took Jason's blow while his club spun +over neatly and rapped Jason on the back of the hand: the numbed +fingers opened and the hammer dropped to the floor. + +"I think you two better come with me, my father will know what to do," +he said, pushing Jason and Mikah ahead of him out the door. He locked +it and called for one of his brothers to stand guard, then poked his +captives down the hall. They shuffled along in their leg-irons, Mikah +nobly as a martyr and Jason seething and grinding his teeth. + +Edipon was not at all stupid when it came to slave rebellions, and +sized up the situation even faster than Narsisi could relate it. + +"I have been expecting this, so it comes as no surprise." His eyes +held a mean little glitter when he leveled them at Jason. "I knew the +time would come when you would try to overthrow me, which was why I +permitted this other to assist you and to learn your skills. As I +expected he has betrayed you to gain your position, which I award him +now." + +"Betray? I did this for no personal gain," Mikah protested. + +"Only the purest of motives," Jason laughed coldly. "Don't believe a +word this pious crook tells you, Edipon. I'm not planning any +revolutions, he just said that to get my job." + +"You caluminate me, Jason! I never lie--you are planning revolt. You +told me--" + +"Silence both of you, or I'll have you beaten to death. This is my +judgment. The slave Mikah has betrayed the slave Jason, and whether +the slave Jason is planning rebellion or not is completely +unimportant. His assistant would have not denounced him unless he was +sure that he could do the work as well, which is the only fact that +has any importance to me. Your ideas about a worker-class have +troubled me Jason. I will be glad to kill them and you at the same +time. Chain him with the slaves. Mikah, I award you Jason's quarter +and woman, and as long as you do the work well I will not kill you. Do +it a long time and you will live a long time. + +"Only the purest of motives, is that what you said, Mikah?" Jason +shouted back as he was kicked from the room. + + * * * * * + +The descent from the pinnacle of power was fast and smooth. Within +half an hour new shackles were on Jason's wrists and he was chained to +the wall in a dark room filled with other slaves. His leg-irons had +been left on as an additional reminder of his new status. He rattled +the chains and examined them in the dim light of a distant lamp as +soon as the door was closed. + +"How comes the revolution?" the slave chained next to him leaned over +and asked in a hoarse whisper. + +"Very funny, ha-ha," Jason grumbled, then moved closer for a better +look at the man who had a fine case of strabismus, his eyes pointing +in independent directions. "You look familiar ... are you the new +slave I talked to today?" + +"That's me, Snarbi, fine soldier, pikeman, checked out on club and +dagger, seven kills and two possibles on my record, you can check it +yourself at the guild hall." + +"I remember it all Snarbi, including the fact that you know your way +back to Appsala." + +"I've been around." + +"Then the revolution is still on, in fact it is starting right now but +I want to keep it small. Instead of freeing all these slaves what do +you say to the idea that we two escape by ourselves?" + +"Best idea I heard since torture was invented, we don't need all these +stupid people. They just get in the way. Keep the operation small and +fast, that's what I always say." + +"I always say that, too," Jason agreed, digging into his boot with his +fingertip. He had managed to shove his best file and a lockpick into +hiding there while Mikah was betraying him back in their room. The +attack on Narsisi with the hammer had just been a cover up. + +Jason had made the file himself after many attempts at manufacturing +and hardening steel, and the experiments had been successful. He +picked out the clay that covered the cut he had made in his leg-cuffs +and tackled the soft iron with vigor; within three minutes they were +lying on the floor. + +"You a magician?" Snarbi whispered, shuddering back. + +"Mechanic. On this planet they're the same thing." He looked around +but the exhausted slaves were all asleep and had heard nothing. +Wrapping a piece of leather around it to muffle the sound he began to +file a link in the chain that secured the shackles on his wrists. +"Snarbi," he asked, "are we on the same chain?" + +"Yeah, the chain goes through these iron cuff things and holds the +whole row of slaves together, the other end goes out through a hole in +the wall." + +"Couldn't be better. I'm filing one of these links, and when it goes +we're both free. See if you can't slip the chain through the holes in +your shackles and lay it down without letting the next slave know what +is happening. We'll wear these iron cuffs for now, there is no time to +play around with them and they shouldn't bother us too much. Do the +guards come through here at all during the night to check on the +slaves?" + +"Not since I've been here, just wake us up in the morning by pulling +on the chain." + +"Then let's hope that's what happens again tonight, because we are +going to need plenty of time--_there!_" The file had cut through the +link. "See if you can get enough of a grip on the other end of this +link while I hold this end, we'll try and bend it open a bit." They +strained silently until the opening gaped wide and the next link +fitted through the cut. + +They slipped the chain and laid it silently on the ground, then +drifted noiselessly to the door. + +"Is there a guard outside?" Jason asked. + +"Not that I know. I don't think they have enough men here to guard all +the slaves." + +The door would not budge when they pushed against it, and there was +just light enough to make out the large keyhole of a massive inset +lock. Jason probed lightly with the pick and curled his lip in +contempt. + +"These idiots have left the key in the lock." He pulled off the +stiffest of his leather wrappings and after flattening it out pushed +it under the badly fitting bottom edge of the door, leaving just a bit +to hold onto. Then he poked lightly at the key through the keyhole and +heard it thud to the ground outside. When he pulled the leather back +in the key was lying in the center of it. The door unlocked silently +and a moment later they were outside, staring tensely into the +darkness. + +"Let's go! Run, get away from here," Snarbi said and Jason grabbed him +by the throat and pulled him back. + +"Isn't there one drop of constructive intelligence on this planet? How +are you going to get to Appsala without food or water, and if you find +some--how can you carry enough? You want to stay alive follow my +instructions. I'm going to lock this door first so that no one +stumbles onto our escape by accident. Then we are going to get some +transport and leave here in style. Agreed?" + +The answer was only a choked rattle until Jason opened his fingers a +bit and let some air into the man's lungs. A labored groan must have +meant assent because Snarbi tottered after him when he made his way +through the dark alleys between the buildings. + +Getting clear of the walled refinery town presented no problem since +the few sentries were only looking for trouble from the outside. It +was equally easy to approach Jason's leather-walled worksite from the +rear and slip through it at the spot where Jason had cut the leather +and sewn up the opening with thin twine. + +"Sit here and touch nothing or you will be cursed for life," he +commanded the shivering Snarbi, then slipped towards the front +entrance with a small sledge hammer clutched in his fist. He was +pleased to see one of Edipon's other sons on guard duty, leaning +against a pole and dozing. Jason gently lifted his leather helm with +his free hand and tapped once with the hammer: the guard slept even +more soundly. + +"Now we can get to work," Jason said when he had returned inside, and +clicked a firelighter to the wick of a lantern. + +"What are you doing? They'll see us, kill us--escaped slaves." + +"Stick with me Snarbi and you'll be wearing shoes. Lights here can't +be seen by the sentries, I made sure of that when I sited the place. +And we have a piece of work to do before we leave--we have to build a +_caroj_." + +They did not have to build it from scratch, but there was enough truth +in the statement to justify it. His most recently rebuilt and most +powerful engine was still bolted to the test stand, a fact that +justified all the night's risks. Three _caroj_ wheels lay among the +other debris of the camp and two of them were to be bolted to the +engine while it was still on the stand. The ends of the driving axle +cleared the edges of the stand, Jason threaded the securing wheel +bolts into place and utilized Snarbi to tighten them. + +At the other end of the stand was a strong, swiveling post that had +been a support for his test instruments, and seemed strangely large +for this small task. It was. When the instruments were stripped away a +single bar remained projecting backwards like a tiller handle. When a +third wheel was fitted with a stub axle and slid into place in the +forked lower end of the post the test stand looked remarkably like a +three-wheeled, steerable, steam engine powered platform that was +mounted on legs. This is exactly what it was, what Jason had designed +it to be from the first, and the supporting legs came away with the +same ease that the other parts had been attached. Escape had always +taken first priority in his plans. + +Snarbi dragged over the crockery jars of oil, water and fuel while +Jason filled the tanks. He started the fire under the boiler and +loaded aboard tools and the small supply of _krenoj_ he had managed to +set aside from their rations. All of this took time, but not time +enough. It would soon be dawn and they would have to leave before +then, and he could no longer avoid making up his mind. He could not +leave Ijale here, and if he went to get her he could not refuse to +take Mikah as well. The man had saved his life, no matter what +murderous idiocies he had managed to pull since that time. Jason +believed that you owed something to a man who prolonged your +existence, but he also wondered just how much he still owed. In +Mikah's case he felt the balance of the debt to be mighty small, if +not overdrawn. Perhaps this one last time. + +"Keep an eye on the engine and I'll be back as soon as I can," he +said, jumping to the ground and loading on equipment. + +"You want me to do _what_? Stay here with this devil machine? I +cannot! It will burn and consume me--" + +"Act your age, Snarbi, your physical age if not your mental one. This +rolling junk pile was made by men and repaired and improved by me, no +demons involved. It burns oil to make heat that makes steam that goes +to this tube to push that rod to make those wheels go around so we can +move, and that is as much of the theory of the steam engine as you are +going to get from me. Maybe you can understand this better--only I can +get you safely away from here. Therefore, you will stay and do as I +say or I will beat your brains in. Clear?" + +Snarbi nodded dumbly. + +"Fine. All you have to do is sit here and look at this little green +disk, see it? If it should pop out before I come back turn _this_ +handle in _this_ direction. Clear enough? That way the safety valve +won't blow and wake the whole country and we'll still have a head of +steam." + +[Illustration] + +Jason went out past the still-silent sentry and headed back towards +the refinery station. Instead of a club or a dagger he was armed with +a well tempered broadsword that he had managed to manufacture under +the noses of the guards. They had examined everything he brought from +the worksite, since he had been working in the evenings in his room, +but ignored everything he manufactured as being beyond their +comprehension. This primordial mental attitude had been of immense +value for in addition to the sword he carried a sack of molotails, a +simple weapon of assault whose origins were lost in pre-history. Small +crocks were filled with the most combustible of the refinery's +fractions and wrapped around outside with cloth that he had soaked in +the same liquid. The stench made him dizzy and he hoped that they +would repay his efforts when the time came, since they were completely +untried. In use one lit the outer covering and threw them. The +crockery burst on impact and the fuse ignited the contents. +Theoretically. + +Getting back in proved to be as easy as getting out, and Jason felt an +unmistakable twinge of regret. His subconscious had obviously been +hoping that there would be a disturbance and he would have to retreat +to save himself, his subconscious obviously being very short on +interest in saving the slave girl and his nemesis, particularly at the +risk of his own skin. His subconscious was disappointed. He was in the +building where his quarters lay, trying to peek around the corner to +see if a guard was at the door. There was, and he seemed to be dozing, +but something jerked him awake. He had heard nothing but he sniffed +the air and wrinkled his nose; the powerful smell of water-of-power +from Jason's molotails had roused him and he spotted Jason before he +could pull back. + +"Who is there?" he shouted and advanced at a lumbering run. + +There was no quiet way out of this one so Jason leaped out with an +echoing shout and lunged. The blade went right under the man's +guard--he must never have seen a sword before--and the tip caught him +full in the throat. He expired with a bubbling wail that stirred +voices deeper in the building. Jason sprang over the corpse and tore +at the multifold bolts and locks that sealed the door. Footsteps were +running in the distance when he finally threw the door open and ran +in. + +"Get out and quick we're escaping!" he shouted at them and pushed the +dazed Ijale towards the door and exacted a great deal of pleasure from +landing a tremendous kick that literally lifted Mikah through the +opening, where he collided with Edipon who had just run up waving a +club. Jason leaped over the tumbled forms, rapped Edipon behind the +ear with the hilt of his sword and dragged Mikah to his feet. + +"Get out to the engine works," he ordered his still uncomprehending +companions. "I have a _caroj_ there that we can get away in." He +cursed them and they finally broke into clumsy motion. There were +shouts from behind him and an armed mob of D'zertanoj ran into view. +Jason pulled down the hall light, burning his hand on the hot base at +the same time, and applied its open flame to one of his molotails. The +wick caught with a roar of flame and he threw it at approaching +soldiers before it could burn his hand. It flew towards them, hit the +wall and broke, inflammable fuel spurted in every direction and the +flame went out. + +Jason cursed and grappled for another molotail, because if they didn't +work he was dead. The D'zertanoj had hesitated a moment rather than +walk through the puddle of spilled water-of-power and in that instant +he hurled the second fire bomb. This one burst nicely too, and lived +up to its maker's expectations when it ignited the first molotail as +well and the passageway filled with a curtain of fire. Holding his +hand around the lamp flame so it wouldn't go out, Jason ran after the +others. + +So far the alarm had not spread outside of the building and Jason +bolted the door from the outside. By the time this was broken open and +the confusion sorted out they would be clear of the buildings. There +was no need for the lamp now and would only give him away. He blew it +out and from the desert came a continuous and ear-piercing scream. + +"He's done it," Jason groaned. "That's the safety valve on the steam +engine!" + +He bumped into Ijale and Mikah who were milling about confusedly in +the dark, kicked Mikah again out of sheer malice and hatred of all +mankind, and led them towards the worksite at a dead run. + + * * * * * + +They escaped unharmed mainly because of the confusion on all sides of +them. The D'zertanoj seemed to never have experienced a night attack +before, which they apparently thought this was, and did an incredible +amount of rushing about and shouting. Matters were not helped by the +burning building nor the unconscious form of Edipon that was carried +from the blaze. All the D'zertanoj had been roused by the scream of +the safety valve, that was still bleeding irreplacable steam into the +night air, and there was much milling about. + +In the confusion the fleeing slaves were not noticed, and Jason led +them around the guard post on the walls and directly towards the +worksite. They were spotted as they crossed the empty ground and after +some hesitation the guard ran in pursuit. Jason was leading the enemy +directly to his precious steam-wagon, but he had no choice. The thing +was certainly making its presence known in any case, and unless he +reached it at once the head of steam would be gone and they would be +trapped. He leaped the still recumbent guard at the entrance and ran +towards his machine. Snarbi was cowering behind one wheel but there +was no time to give him any attention. As Jason jumped onto the +platform the safety valve closed and the sudden stillness was +frightening. The steam was gone. + +With frantic grabs he spun valves and shot one glance at the +indicator: there wasn't enough steam left to roll the meters. Water +gurgled and the boiler hissed and clacked at him while screams of +anger came from the D'zertanoj as they ran into the enclosure and saw +the bootleg _caroj_. Jason thrust the end of a molotail into the +firebox; it caught fire and he turned and hurled it at them. The angry +cries turned into screams of fear as the tongues of flame licked up at +the pursuers and they retreated in disorder. Jason ran after them and +hastened their departure with another molotail. They seemed to be +retreating as far as the refinery walls, but he could not be sure in +the darkness if some of them weren't creeping around to the sides. + +He hurried back to the _caroj_, tapped on the still-unmoving pressure +indicator and opened the fuel feed wide. As an afterthought he wired +down the safety valve since his reinforced boiler should hold more +pressure than the valve had been originally adjusted for. Once this +was finished he chewed at his oily fingernails since there was nothing +else that could be done until the pressure built up again. The +D'zertanoj would rally, someone would take charge, and they would +attack the worksite. If they had enough steam before this happened, +they would escape. If not-- + +"Mikah, and you, too, you cowering slob Snarbi you, get behind this +thing and push," Jason said. + +"What has happened," Mikah asked. "Have you started this revolution? +If so I will give no aid...." + +"We're escaping, if that's all right with you. Just I, Ijale and a +guide to show us the way. You don't have to come--" + +"I will join you. There is nothing criminal in escaping from these +barbarians." + +"Very nice of you to say so. Now push. I want this steamobile in the +center, far from all the walls, and pointing towards the desert. Down +the valley I guess, is that right, Snarbi?" + +"Down the valley, sure, that's the way." His voice was still rasping +from the earlier throttling, Jason was pleased to notice. + +"Stop it here and everyone aboard. Grab onto those bars I've bolted +along the sides so you won't get bounced off, if we ever start moving +that is." + +Jason took a quick look through his workshop to make sure everything +they might need was already loaded, then reluctantly climbed aboard +himself. He blew out the lantern and they sat there in the darkness, +their faces lit from below by the flickering glow from the firebox, +while the tension mounted. There was no way to measure time since each +second took an eternity to drag by. + +The walls of the worksite cut off any view of the outside and within a +few moments imagination had peopled the night with silent hordes +creeping towards them, huddling about the thin barrier of leather, +ready to swoop down and crush them in an instant. + +"Let's run for it," Snarbi gurgled and tried to jump from the +platform. "We're trapped here, we'll never get away...." + +Jason tripped him and knocked him flat, then pounded his head against +the floor planks a few times until he quieted. + +"I can sympathize with that poor man," Mikah said severely. "You are a +brute, Jason, to punish him for his natural feelings. Cease your +sadistic attack and join me in a prayer." + +"If this poor man you are so sorry for had simply done his duty and +watched the boiler, we would all be safely away from here by now. And +if you have enough breath for a prayer, put it to better use by +blowing into the firebox. It's not going to be wishes or prayers that +gets us out of here, just a head of steam." + + * * * * * + +A howled battlecry was echoed by massed voices and a squad of +D'zertanoj burst in through the entrance, and at the same instant the +rear of the leather wall went down and more armed men swarmed over it. +The immobile _caroj_ was trapped between the two groups of attackers +who laughed happily as they charged. Jason cursed and lit four +molotails at the same time and hurled them two and two in opposite +directions. Before they hit he had jumped to the steam valve and wound +it open; with a hissing clank the _caroj_ shuddered and got underway. + +For the moment the attackers were held back by the walls of flame and +screamed even louder as the machine moved away at right angles from +between their two groups. The air whistled with crossbow bolts, but +most were badly aimed and only a few thudded into the baggage. With +each revolution of the wheels their speed picked up and when they hit +the walls the hides parted with a creaking snap. Strips of leather +whipped at them, then they were through. + +The shouts and the fires grew dimmer behind them as they streaked down +the valley at a suicidal pace, hissing, rattling and crashing over the +bumps. Jason clung to the tiller and shouted for Mikah to come relieve +him, since if he let go of the thing they would turn and crash in an +instant, and as long as he held it he couldn't cut down the steam. +Some of this finally penetrated to Mikah because he crawled forward +grasping desperately to every hand-hold until he crouched beside +Jason. + +"Grab this tiller and hold it straight and steer around anything big +enough to see." + +As soon as the steering was taken over Jason worked his way back to +the engine and throttled down; they slowed to a clanking walk then +stopped completely. Ijale moaned and Jason felt as if every inch of +his body had been beaten with hammers. There was no sign of pursuit +since it would be at least an hour before they could raise steam in +the _caroj_ and no one on foot could have possibly matched their +headlong pace. The lantern he had used earlier had vanished during the +wild ride so Jason dug out another one of his own construction. + +"On your feet, Snarbi," he ordered. "I've cracked us all out of +slavery so now it is time for you to do some of the guiding that you +were telling me about. Walk ahead with this light and pick out a nice +smooth track going in the right direction. I never did have a chance +to build headlights for this machine so you will have to do instead." + +Snarbi climbed down unsteadily and walked out in front. Jason opened +the valve a bit and they clattered forward on his trail as Mikah +turned the tiller to follow. Ijale crawled over and settled herself +against Jason's side, shivering with cold and fright. He patted her +shoulder. + +"Relax," he said, "from now on this is just a pleasure trip." + + +X + +They were six days out of Putl'ko and their supplies were almost +exhausted. The country, once they were away from the mountains, became +more fertile, an undulating pampas of grass with enough streams and +herds of beasts to assure that they did not starve. It was fuel that +mattered, and that afternoon Jason had opened their last jar. They +stopped a few hours before dark since their fresh meat was gone, and +Snarbi took the crossbow and went out to shoot something for the pot. +Since he was the only one who could handle the clumsy weapon with any +kind of skill in spite of his ocular deficiencies, and who knew about +the local game, this task had been assigned to him. With longer +contact his fear of the _caroj_ had lessened, and his self-esteem rose +at his recognized ability as a hunter. He strolled arrogantly out into +the knee-high grass, crossbow over his shoulder, whistling tunelessly +through his teeth. Jason stared after him and once again felt a +growing unease. + +"I don't trust that wall-eyed mercenary, I don't trust him for one +second," he muttered. + +"Were you talking to me?" Mikah asked. + +"I wasn't but I might as well now. Have you noticed anything +interesting about the country we have been passing through, anything +different?" + +"Nothing. It is a wilderness, untouched by the hand of man." + +"Then you must be blind, because I have been seeing things the last +two days, and I know just as little about woodcraft as you do. Ijale," +he called, and she looked up from the boiler over which she was +heating a thin stew of their last _krenoj_. "Leave that stuff, it +tastes just as bad whatever is done to it, and if Snarbi has any luck +we'll be having roast in any case. Tell me, have you seen anything +strange or different about the land we passed through today." + +"Nothing strange, just signs of people. Twice we passed places where +the grass was flat and branches broken as if a _caroj_ passed two or +three days ago, maybe more. And once there was a place where someone +had built a cooking fire, but that was very old." + +"Nothing to be seen, Mikah?" Jason asked with raised eyebrows. "See +what a lifetime of _krenoj_ hunting can do for the sense of +observation and terrain." + +"I am no savage. You cannot expect me to look out for that sort of +thing." + +"I don't. I have learned to expect very little from you beside +trouble. Only now I am going to need your help. This is Snarbi's last +night of freedom whether he knows it or not, and I don't want him +standing guard tonight, so you and I will split the shift." + +Mikah was astonished. "I do not understand. What do you mean this is +his last night of freedom?" + +"It should be obvious by now--even to you--after seeing how the social +ethic works on this planet. What did you think we were going to do +when we came to Appsala--follow Snarbi like sheep to the slaughter? I +have no idea what he is planning. I just know he must be planning +something. When I ask him about the city he only answers in +generalities. Of course he is a hired mercenary who wouldn't know too +much of the details, but he must know a lot more than he is telling +us. He says we are still four days away from the city. My guess is +that we are no more than one or two. In the morning I intend to grab +him and tie him up, then swing over to those hills there and find a +place to hole up. I'll fix some chains for Snarbi so he can't get +away, then I'll do a scout of the city...." + +"You are going to chain this poor man, make a slave of him for no +reason!" + +"I'm not going to make a slave of him, just chain him to make sure he +doesn't lead us into some trap that will benefit him. This souped-up +_caroj_ is valuable enough to tempt any of the locals, and if he can +sell me as an engine-mechanic slave his fortune is made." + + * * * * * + +"I will not hear this!" Mikah stormed. "You condemn the man on no +evidence at all, just because of your nasty minded suspicions. Judge +not lest ye be judged yourself! And you play the hypocrite as well, +because I well remember your telling me that a man is innocent until +proven guilty." + +"Well this man is guilty, if you want to put it that way, guilty of +being a member of this broken down society, which means that he will +always act in certain ways at certain times. Haven't you learned +anything about these people yet? Ijale!" She looked up from contented +munching on a _krenoj_, obviously not listening to the argument. "Tell +me, what is your opinion? We are coming soon to a place where Snarbi +has friends, or people who will help him. What do you think he will +do?" + +"Say hello to the people he knows? Maybe they will give him a +_krenoj_." She smiled in satisfaction at her answer and took another +bite. + +"That's not quite what I had in mind," Jason said patiently. "What if +we three are with him when we come to the people, and the people see +us and the _caroj_...." + +She sat up, alarmed. "We can't go with him! If he has people there +they will fight us, make us slaves, take the _caroj_. You must kill +Snarbi at once." + +"Bloodthirsty heathen...." Mikah began in his best denunciatory voice, +but quit when he saw Jason pick up a heavy hammer. + +"Do you understand yet?" Jason asked. "By tying up Snarbi I'm only +conforming to a local code of ethic, like saluting in the army or not +eating with your fingers in polite society. In fact I'm being a little +slipshod, since by local custom I should kill him before he can make +us trouble." + +"It cannot be, I cannot believe it. You cannot judge and condemn a man +upon such flimsy evidence." + +"I'm not condemning him," Jason said with growing irritation, "Just +making sure that he can't cause me any trouble. You don't have to +agree with me to help me, just don't get in my way. And split the +guard with me tonight. Whatever I do in the morning will be on my +shoulders and no concern of yours." + +"He is returning," Ijale hissed, and a moment later Snarbi came up +through the high grass. + +"Got a _cervo_," he announced proudly, and dropped the animal down +before them. "Cut him up, makes good chops and roast. We eat tonight." + +He was completely innocent and without guile and the only thing guilty +about him was his shifty gaze which could be blamed completely on his +crossed eyes. Jason wondered for a second if his assessment of the +danger was correct, then remembered where he was and lost his doubts. +Snarbi would be committing no crime if he tried to kill or enslave +them, just doing what any ordinary, decent slave-holding barbarian +would do in his place. Jason searched through his tool box for some +rivets that could be used to fasten the leg irons on the man. + +They had a filling dinner and the others turned in at dusk and were +quickly asleep. Jason, tired from the labors of the trip and heavy +with food, forced himself to remain awake, trying to keep alert for +trouble both from within and from without. When he became too sleepy +he paced around the camp until the cold drove him back to the shelter +of the still-warm boiler. Above him the stars wheeled slowly and when +a prominent one reached the zenith he estimated it was midnight, or a +bit after. He shook Mikah awake. + +"You're on now. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything stirring and +don't forget a careful watch there," he jerked his thumb at Snarbi's +silent form. "Wake me up at once if there's anything suspicious." + + * * * * * + +Sleep dropped like a heavy curtain and Jason barely stirred until the +first light of dawn touched the sky. Only the brighter stars were +visible on the eastern horizon and he could see a ground fog rising +from the grass around them. Near him were the huddled forms of the two +sleepers and the farthest one shifted in his sleep and he realized it +was Mikah. + +Sleep fell away instantly and he bounded out of his skin covers and +grabbed the other man by the shoulders. "What are you doing asleep?" +he raged. "You were supposed to be on guard." + +Mikah opened his eyes and blinked. "I was on guard, but towards +morning Snarbi awoke and offered to take his turn. I could not refuse +him...." + +"You couldn't WHAT? After what I said--" + +"That was why. I could not judge an innocent man guilty and be a party +to your unfair action. Therefore, I left him on guard." + +"You did, did you?" Jason grated with rage and pulled an unfelt +handful of hair from his newgrown beard. "Then where is he? Do you see +anyone on guard?" + +Mikah looked in a careful circle and saw only the two of them and the +wakening Ijale. "He seems to have gone. He has proven his +untrustworthiness and in the future we will not allow him to stand +guard." + +Jason raged, drew his foot back for a kick in the local reflex then +realized he had no time for such indulgences and dived for the +steamobile. The firelighter worked at the first shot, for a rare +change, and he lit the boiler. It roared merrily but when he tapped +the indicator he saw the fuel was almost gone. There would be enough +left in the last jug to take them to safety before whatever trouble +Snarbi was planning arrived. But the jug was gone. + +"That tears it," Jason said resignedly after a hectic search of the +_caroj_ and the surrounding plain. The water-of-power had vanished +with Snarbi who, afraid as he was of the steam engine, apparently knew +enough from observing Jason fueling the thing that it could not move +without the vital liquid. An empty feeling of resignation had replaced +Jason's first rage: he should have known better than to trust Mikah +with anything, particularly when it involved an ethical point. He +stared at the man, now calmly eating a bit of cold roast and marveled +at the unruffled calm. "This doesn't bother you, the fact that you +have condemned us all to slavery again?" + +"I did what was right, I had no other choice. We must live as moral +creatures or sink to the level of the animals." + +"But when you live with people who behave like animals--how do you +survive? + +"You live as they do--as you do, Jason," he said with majestic +judgment, "twisting and turning with fear and unable to avoid your +fate no matter how you squirm. Or you live as I have done, as a man of +conviction, knowing what is right and not letting your head be turned +by the petty needs of the day. And if one lives this way one can die +happy." + +"Then die happy!" Jason snarled and reached for his sword, but settled +back again glumly before he picked it up. "To think that I ever +thought I could teach you anything about the reality of existence here +when you have never experienced reality before nor ever will until the +day you die. You carry your own attitudes, which are your reality, +around with you all the time, and they are more solid to you than this +ground we are sitting upon." + +"For once we are in agreement, Jason. I have tried to open your eyes +to the true light, but you turn away and will not see. You ignore the +Eternal Law for the exigencies of the moment and are, therefore, +damned." + +The pressure indicator on the boiler hissed and popped out, but the +fuel level was at the absolute bottom. + +"Grab some food for breakfast, Ijale," Jason said, "and get away from +this machine. The fuel is gone and it's finished." + +"I shall make a bundle to carry, we will escape on foot." + +"No, that's out of the question. Snarbi knows this country and he knew +we would find out that he was missing at dawn. Whatever kind of +trouble he is bringing is already on the way and we wouldn't be able +to escape on foot. So we might as well save our energy. But they +aren't getting my handmade, super-charged steamobile!" he added with +sudden vehemence, grabbing up the crossbow. "Back both of you, far +back. They'll make a slave of me for my talents, but no free samples +go with it. If they want one of these hot-rod steam wagons, they are +going to have to pay for it!" + +Jason lay down flat at the maximum range of the crossbow and his third +quarrel hit the boiler. It went up with a most satisfactory bang and +small pieces of metal and wood rained down all around. In the distance +he heard shouting and the barking of dogs. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration] + +When he stood he could see a distant line of men advancing through the +tall grass and when they were closer large dogs were also visible, +tugging at their leashes. Though they must have come far in a few +hours they approached at a steady trot, experienced runners, in thin +leather garments each carrying a short, laminated bow and a full +quiver of arrows. They swooped up in a semicircle, their great hounds +slavering to be loosed, and stopped when the three strangers were +within bow range. They notched their arrows and waited with alert +patience, staying well clear of the smoking ruins of the caroj, until +Snarbi finally staggered up half supported by two other runners. + +"You now belong to ... the Hertug Persson ... and are his slaves.... +What happened to the _caroj_?" He screamed this last when he spotted +the smoking wreck and would have collapsed except for the sustaining +arms. Evidently the new slaves decreased in value with the loss of the +machine. He stumbled over to it and, when none of the soldiers would +help him, gathered up what he could find of Jason's artifacts and +tools. When he had bundled them up, and the foot cavalry had seen that +he suffered no injury from the contact, they reluctantly agreed to +carry them. One of the soldiers, identical in dress with the others, +seemed to be in charge, and when he signaled a return they closed in +on the three prisoners and nudged them to their feet with drawn bows. + +"I'm coming, I'm coming," Jason said, gnawing on a bone, "but I'm +going to finish my breakfast first. I see an endless vista of _krenoj_ +stretching out before me and intend to enjoy this last meal before +entering servitude." + +The lead soldiers looked confused and turned to their officer for +orders. "Who is this?" he asked Snarbi, pointing at the still seated +Jason. "Is there any reason why I should not kill him." + +"You can't!" Snarbi choked, and turned a dirty shade of white. "He is +the one who built the devil-wagon and knows all of its secrets. Hertug +Persson will torture him to build another." + +Jason wiped his fingers on the grass and reluctantly stood. "All right +gentlemen, let's go. And on the way perhaps someone can tell me just +who Hertug Persson is and what is going to happen next." + +"I'll tell you," Snarbi bragged as they started the march. "He is +Hertug of the Perssonoj. I have fought for the Perssonoj and they knew +me and I saw the Hertug himself and he believed me. The Perssonoj are +very powerful in Appsala and have many powerful secrets, but not as +powerful as the Trozelligoj who have the secret of the _caroj_ and the +_jetilo_. I knew I could ask any price of the Perssonoj if I brought +them the secret of the _caroj_. And I will." He trust his face close +to Jason's with a fierce grimace. "You will tell them the secret. I +will help them torture you until you tell." + +Jason put out his toe as they walked and Snarbi tripped over it and +when the traitor fell he walked the length of his body. None of the +soldiers paid any attention to this exchange and when they had passed +Snarbi staggered to his feet and tottered after them shouting curses. +Jason did not hear them, he had troubles enough as it was. + + +XI + +Seen from the surrounding hills, Appsala looked like a burning city +that was being slowly washed into the sea. Only when they had come +closer was it clear that the smoke was from the multifold chimneys, +both large and small, that studded the buildings, and that the city +began at the shore and covered a number of islands in what must be a +shallow lagoon. Large sea-going ships were tied up at the seaward side +of the city and closer to the mainland smaller craft were being poled +through the canals. Jason searched anxiously for a spaceport or any +signs of interstellar culture but saw nothing. Then the hills +intervened as the trail cut off to one side and approached the sea +some distance from the city. + +A fair-sized sailing vessel was tied up at the end of a stone wharf, +obviously awaiting them, and the captives were tied hand and foot and +tossed into the hold. Jason managed to wriggle around until he could +get his eye to a crack between two badly fitting planks and recited a +running travelogue of the cruise, apparently for the edification of +his companions, but really for his own benefit since the sound of his +own voice always cheered and encouraged him. + +"Our voyage is nearing its close and before us opens up the romantic +and ancient city of Appsala, famed for its loathsome customs, +murderous natives and archaic sanitation facilities, of which this +watery channel this ship is now entering seems to be the major cloaca. +There are islands on both sides, the smaller ones covered with hovels +so decrepit that in comparison the holes in the ground of the humblest +animals appear to be palaces, while the larger islands appear to be +forts, each one walled and barbicaned and presenting a warlike face to +the world. There couldn't be that many forts in a town this size so I +am led to believe that each one is undoubtedly the guarded stronghold +of one of the tribes, groups or clans that our friend Judas told us +about. Look on these monuments to ultimate selfishness and beware: +this is the end product of the system that begins with slave-holders +like the former Ch'aka with their tribes of _krenoj_ crackers, and +builds up through familiar hierarchies like the D'zertanoj and reaches +its zenith of depravity behind those strong walls. It is still +absolute power that rules absolutely, each man out for all that he can +get and the only way to climb being over the bodies of others, and all +physical discoveries and inventions being treated as private and +personal secrets to be hidden and used only for personal gain. Never +have I seen human greed and selfishness carried to such extremes and I +admire Homo sapiens' capacity to follow through on an idea, no matter +how it hurts." + +The ship lost way as it backed its sails and Jason fell from his +precarious perch into the stinking bilge. "The descent of man," he +muttered and inched his way out. + +Piles grated along the sides and with much shouting and cursed orders +the ship came to a halt. The hatch above was slid back and the three +captives were rushed to the deck. The ship was tied up to a dock in a +pool of water surrounded by buildings and high walls. Behind them a +large sea gate was just swinging shut, through which the ship had +entered from the canal. They could see no more because they were +pushed into a doorway and through halls and past guards until they +ended up in a large central room. It was unfurnished except for the +dais at the far end on which stood a large and rusty iron throne. The +man on the throne, undoubtedly the Hertug Persson, sported a +magnificent white beard and shoulder length hair, his nose was round +and red, his eyes blue and watery. He nibbled at a _krenoj_ impaled +delicately on a two-tined iron fork. + + * * * * * + +"Tell me," the Hertug shouted suddenly, "why you should not be killed +at once?" + +"We are your slaves, Hertug, we are your slaves," everyone in the room +shouted in unison, waving their hands in the air at the same time. +Jason missed the first chorus, but came in on the second. Only Mikah +did not join in the chant-and-wave, speaking instead in a solitary +voice after the pledge of allegiance was completed. + +"I am no man's slave." + +The commander of the soldiers swung his thick bow in a short arc that +terminated on the top of Mikah's head: he dropped stunned to the +floor. + +"You have a new slave, oh Hertug," the commander said. + +"Which is the one who knows the secrets of the _caroj_?" the Hertug +asked and Snarbi pointed at Jason. + +"Him there, oh mightiness. He can make _caroj_ and he can make the +monster that burns and moves them, I know because I watched him do it. +He also made balls of fire that burned the D'zertanoj and many other +things. I brought him to be your slave so that he could make _caroj_ +for the Perssonoj. Here are the pieces of the _caroj_ we traveled in, +after it was consumed by its own fire." Snarbi shook the tools and +burnt fragments out onto the floor and the Hertug curled his lip at +them. + +"What proof is this?" he asked, and turned to Jason. "These things +mean nothing. How can you prove to me, slave, that you can do the +things he says?" + +Jason entertained briefly the idea to deny all knowledge of the +matter, which would be a neat revenge against Snarbi who would +certainly meet a sticky end for causing all this trouble for nothing, +but he discarded the thought as fast as it came. Partly for +humanitarian reasons, Snarbi could not help being what he was, but +mostly because he had no particular desire to be put to the question. +He knew nothing about the local torture methods, and he wanted to keep +it that way. + +"Proof is easy, Hertug of all the Perssonoj, because I know everything +about everything. I can build machines that walk, that talk, that run, +fly, swim, bark like a dog and roll on their backs." + +"You will build a _caroj_ for me?" + +"It could be arranged, if you have the right kind of tools I could +use. But I must first know what is the specialty of your clan, if you +know what I mean. Like the Trozelligoj make _caroj_ and the D'zertanoj +pump oil. What do your people do?" + +"You cannot know as much as you say if you do not know of the glories +of the Perssonoj!" + +"I come from a distant land and as you know news travels slowly around +these parts." + +"Not around the Perssonoj," the Hertug said scornfully and thumped his +chest. "We can talk across the width of the country and always know +where our enemies are. We can send magic on wires to kill, or magic to +make light in a glass ball or magic that will pluck the sword from an +enemy's hand and drive terror into his heart." + +"It sounds like your gang has the monopoly on electricity, which is +good to hear. If you have some heavy forging equipment...." + +"Stop!" the Hertug ordered. "Leave! Out--everyone except the +_sciuloj_. Not the new slave, he stays here," he shouted when the +soldiers grabbed Jason. + + * * * * * + +The room emptied and the handful of men who remained were all a little +long in the tooth and each wore a brazen, sun-burst type decoration on +his chest. They were undoubtedly adept in the secret electrical arts +and they fingered their weapons and grumbled with unconcealed anger at +Jason's forbidden knowledge. The Hertug signaled him to continue. + +"You used a sacred word. Who told it to you? Speak quickly or you will +be killed." + +"Didn't I tell you I knew everything? I can build a _caroj_ and given +a little time I can improve on your electrical works, if your +technology is on the same level as the rest of this planet." + +"Do you know what lies behind the forbidden portal?" the Hertug asked, +pointing to a barred, locked and guarded door at the other end of the +room. "There is no way you can have seen what is there, but if you can +tell me what lies beyond it I will know you are the wizard that you +claim you are." + +"I have a very strange feeling that I have been over this ground once +before," Jason sighed. "All right, here goes. You people here make +electricity, maybe chemically, though I doubt if you would get enough +power that way, so you must have a generator of some sort. That will +be a big magnet, a piece of special iron that can pick up other iron, +and you spin it around fast next to some coils of wire and out comes +electricity. You pipe this through copper wire to whatever devices you +have, and they can't be very many. You say you talk across the +country. I'll bet you don't talk at all but send little clicks, dots +and dashes.... I'm right aren't I?" The foot shuffling and rising buzz +from the adepts was a sure sign that he was hitting close. "I have an +idea for you, I think I'll invent the telephone. Instead of the old +clikkety-clack how would you like to _really_ talk across the country? +Speak into a gadget here and have your voice come out at the far end +of the wire?" + +The Hertug's piggy little eyes blinked greedily. "It is said that in +the old days this could be done, but we have tried and have failed. +Can you do this thing?" + +"I can--if we can come to an agreement first. But before I make any +promises I have to see your equipment." + +This brought the usual groans of complaint about secrecy, but in the +end avarice won over taboo and the door to the holy of holies was +opened for Jason while two of the _sciuloj_, with bared and ready +daggers, stood at his sides. At almost the same instant Jason looked +in through the door he heard the sound. + +Now the reaction of the human body, while remarkably fast, need +certain finite measures of time and have been measured over and over +again with a great deal of accuracy. The commands of the brain, speedy +as they may be, must be carried by sluggish nerves and put into +operation by inert lumps of muscle. Therefore to say that Jason's +reactions were instantaneous is to tell a lie, or at least exaggerate. +Only to his watchers did his actions appear to take place that fast; +they were older, and less alert, and had not had the advantage of +Pyrran survival training. So to their point of view the sacred portal +was opened and Jason vanished in a flurry of activity. Two lightning +blows sent his guardians spinning, and before they had fallen to the +floor their supposed captive was through the door and it was slammed +in their faces. Before the first dumfounded Persson could jump forward +the bolt grated home inside and the door was sealed. + +Things were a little more complex than that to Jason. When the door +opened he had had a good view of the inside of the room, of a slave +cranking the handle on a crude collection of junk that could only have +been a generator. Thick wires looped across the room from the thing to +a man who stood before some blades of copper pushing at them with a +wooden stick, while above his head fat sparks leaped the gap between +two brassy spheres. As if to complete this illustration for a +bronze-age edition of "First Steps in Electricity" another cable +twisted up from the spark gap and vanished out a small window. The +entire thing might have been labeled "How to Generate A Radio Signal +in the Crudest Manner." As Jason reached this conclusion in the +smallest fraction of a second, and at almost the very same instant, he +heard the sound. + +What he heard could have been distant thunder, an earthquake, a +volcano or some giant explosion. It rumbled and rolled, muffled by +distance, yet still clear. It resembled none of these things to Jason, +but made him think only of a high altitude rocket or jet, cleaving +through the atmosphere. + +It must have been the juxtaposition of these two things, occurring as +they did at the same time, the view of a radio transmitter, no matter +how crude, and the thought that there might be a civilized craft or +some kind up there containing men who would come to his aid if he +could only contact them. The idea was an insane one, but even as he +realized that fact he was through the door and bolting it behind him. +Perhaps he did it because he had been pushed around entirely too much +and felt like pushing someone else for a change. In any case it was +done, insane or not, and he might as well carry through. + +The generator slave looked up, startled, but when Jason glanced at him +he lowered his eyes and kept cranking. The man who had been working +the transmitter spun about, startled by the slam of the door and the +muffled pounding and shouts that followed instantly from the other +side. He groped for his dagger when he saw the stranger, but before it +was clear of the scabbard Jason was on him and after a few quick +Pyrran infighting blows the man lost all interest in what was +happening and slid to the floor. Jason straddled his body, picked the +stick up, nodded to the slave who began cranking faster, and began to +tap out a message. + +S-O-S ... S-O-S ... he sent first, then as fragments of code came back +to him he spelled out J-A-S-O-N D-A-L-T H-R-E.... N-E-E-D A-I-D.... +R-I-C-H.... R-E-W-A-R-D ... F-O-R ... H-E-L-P.... + +He varied this a bit, repeated his name often, and tried other themes +appealing for off-world aid. It was a slim chance that he had heard a +rocket, and even slimmer chance that they would pick his message out +of the static if they happened to be listening. He had no evidence +that any off-worlders were in contact with this planet, merely hope. +He tapped on and the slave ground away industriously. His arm was +growing tired by the time the old guard in the other room found +something heavy enough to swing and broke the door down. Jason stopped +tapping and turned to face the apoplectic Hertug, rubbing his tired +wrist. + +"Your equipment works fine, though it could use a lot of +improvements." + +"Kill him.... Kill!" the Hertug sputtered. + +"Kill me and there goes your _caroj_, as well as your telephone system +and your only chance to wrap up all the industrial secrets in one big +bundle," Jason said, looking around for something heavy to swing. + + * * * * * + +A gigantic explosion slammed into the room; a crack appeared in one +wall and dust floated down from the ceiling. There was a sound of +snapping small arms fire in the distance. + +"It worked!" Jason shouted with unrestrained glee and hurled a heavy +roll of wire at the startled men in the doorway and followed instantly +after it in a headlong dive. There was a flurry of action, most of the +damage being done by his boots, then he was through and running out of +the throne room with the men bellowing in pursuit. + +A small war seemed to be raging ahead, the sharp explosions of gunfire +being mixed with the heavier thud of bombs and grenades. Walls were +down, doors blasted open while confused soldiers rushed in panic +through the clouds of dust. One of them tried to stop Jason who kept +on going, carrying the man's club with him. Sunlight shone ahead and +he dived through a riven wall and landed, rolling in the open ground +next to the dock. A spaceship's lifeboat stood there, still glowing +hot from the speed of descent, and next to it stood Meta keeping up a +continuous fire with her gun, happily juggling micro-grenades with her +free hand. + +[Illustration] + +"What were you waiting for," she snapped. "I have been in orbit over +this planet for a month now, waiting for some word from you. There are +dozens of radio transmitters on this continent and I have been +monitoring them all." She fired a long burst at an upper story where +some bowmen had been foolish enough to appear, then ran to Jason, eyes +wet with tears. "Oh, darling, I was so worried." + +She held him--with her grenade-throwing arm--and kissed him fiercely. +She kept her eyes open while she was doing this but only had to fire +once. + +"Jason!" a voice called and Ijale appeared, half-supporting the still +dazed Mikah. + +"Who is this?" Meta snapped, the chill back in her voice. + +"Why--just someone I know," Jason answered, smiling insincerely. "You +should recognize the man, he's the one who arrested me." + +"Here is a gun, you will want to kill him yourself." + +Jason took the gun, but used it to clear a nearby roof-top, the +powerful kick of the Pyrran automatic was like a caress on the heel of +his hand. + +"I don't think I want to kill him. He saved my life once, though he +has tried to lose it for me a dozen times since. Let's get upstairs to +the ship and I'll tell you about it. There are more healthy spots than +this to have a conversation." + + +XII + +Washed, shaved, scrubbed, cleaned, filled with good food and slightly +awash with alcoholic drink, Jason collapsed into the acceleration +couch and firmly swore that life was worth living after all. + +"You can't appreciate the simple things of life until you have gone +without them for a while. Or the better things either." He reached out +and took Meta's hand. She pulled it away and fed more digits into the +computer. + +"How did you find me?" he asked, trying to discover a subject that she +might warm to. + +"That should be obvious. We saw the markings on the ship that took you +away and charted a directional trace before it went into jump-space. +We identified the markings and I went to Cassylia, but the ship had +never arrived there. I back-tracked the straight-line course and found +three possible planets near enough to have registered in the ship +during jump-space flight. Two are highly organized with modern +spaceports and would have known if the ship had landed. It hadn't. +Therefore you must have forced the ship down on the planet we just +left. And once you were there you would find one of the radios to send +a message. Which is what you did. It is obvious. Who is she?" The +final words were in a distinctly chillier tone of voice, and there +could be only one she, Ijale, who crouched across the room, obviously +unhappy and wide-eyed with fear at this voyage in a spaceship, not +understanding the language the others spoke. + +"I've told you before--just a friend. She was with us, and helped us, +too. I couldn't let her go back to the life in the desert, it's more +brutal than you can possibly imagine. There is an entire planetful of +slaves back there, and of course I can't save them all. But I can do +this much, take out the one person there who would rather see me live +than die." + +"What do you intend to do with her?" The sub-zero temperature of +Meta's voice left no doubt as to what she wanted to do with her. Jason +had already given this a good deal of thought, and if Ijale was going +to live much longer she had to be separated as soon as possible from +the deadly threat of female Pyrran jealousy. + +"We stop at the next civilized planet and let her off. I have enough +money to leave a deposit in a bank that will last her for years. Make +arrangements for it to be paid out only a bit at a time, so no matter +how she is cheated she will still have enough. I'm not going to worry +about her, if she was able to survive in the _krenoj_ legion she can +get along well anywhere on a settled world." + +He could hear the complaints on when he broke the news to Ijale, but +it was for her own survival. + +"I shall care for and lead her in the paths of righteousness," a +remembered voice spoke from the doorway. Mikah stood there, clutching +to the jamb, a turban of bandages on his head. + +"That's a wonderful idea," Jason agreed enthusiastically. He turned to +Ijale and spoke in her own language. "Did you hear that? Mikah is +going to take you home with him and look after you. I'll arrange for +some money to be paid to you for all your needs, he'll explain to you +what money is. I want you to listen to him carefully, note exactly +what he says, then do the exact opposite. You must promise me you will +do that and never break your word. In that way you may make some +mistakes and will be wrong sometimes, but all the rest of the time +things will go very smoothly." + +"I cannot leave you! Take me with you--I'll be your slave always!" she +wailed. + +"What did she say?" Meta snapped, catching some of the meaning. + +"You are evil, Jason," Mikah declaimed, getting the needle back into +the familiar groove. "She will obey you, I know that, so no matter how +I labor she will always do as you say." + +"I sincerely hope so," Jason said fervently. "One has to be born into +your particular brand of illogic to get any pleasure from it. The rest +of us are happier bending a bit under the impact of existence, and +exacting a mite more pleasure from the physical life around us." + +"Evil I say, and you shall not go unpunished." His hand appeared from +behind the door jamb and it held a pistol that he had found below. "I +am taking command of this ship. You will secure the two women so that +they can cause no trouble, then we will proceed to Cassylia for your +trial." + +Meta had her back turned to Mikah and was sitting in the control chair +a good five meters from him with her hands filled with navigational +notes. She slowly raised her head and looked at Jason and a smile +broke across her face. + +"You said once you didn't want him killed." + +"I still don't want him killed, but I also have no intention of going +to Cassylia." He echoed her smile and turned away. + +He sighed happily and there was a sudden rush of feet behind his back. +No shots were fired but a hoarse scream, a thud and a sharp cracking +noise told him that Mikah had lost his last argument. + + * * * * * + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Ethical Engineer, by Henry Maxwell Dempsey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ETHICAL ENGINEER *** + +***** This file should be named 30964.txt or 30964.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/9/6/30964/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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