The Ethical Way

by Joseph Farrell

  Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction March 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

  The Ethical Way

  By JOSEPH FARRELL

  _There is a way around every tabu, knock on wood--but just watch out that the wood doesn't knock back!_

  Illustrated by JOHNSON

  * * * * *

  "Is it time?" Jarth Rolan asked anxiously. Pilot Lan Barda pushed himgently back into a seat. "No, but very soon. And be calm--you'rejumpier than a human."

  "But we've waited so long--yes, a long time. And I _am_ anxious to gethome."

  Lan peered calmly out of his vehicle. They were hovering in Earth'supper atmosphere, at the permitted limit.

  "Be patient. These people have almost reached the critical point.We'll get the signal before long."

  Jarth Rolan popped out of his chair and danced about in nervousexcitement.

  "Won't it be dangerous? For us, I mean. Going down into thatradioactive atmosphere. And how about them--will any of them live?Suppose we wait too long?"

  Lan Barda laughed. He was a husky humanoid, pinkish of skin andcompletely hairless, like all galactics. He slapped Jarth Rolan'sback.

  "We have experts watching. These humans have used four cobalt bombs,and plenty of smaller stuff. The fallout is close to the danger point.Our observers will know just when we can move in because--" he winkedand his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper--"they're usingautomatically controlled instruments."

  "Oh, my!" Jarth Rolan clapped his hands to his cheeks. "But those arerobots--and the use of robots is against religion."

  "I know, Jarth. But we won't be using them much longer, will we?" Hepoked a playful finger into Jarth's ribs. "We'll have slaves--andit'll be completely ethical."

  Jarth Rolan winced. "Must you use that word 'slaves,' Lan? It soundsso--" He waved his hands.

  Lan laughed again. "Be honest with yourself, Jarth. You're out to makea few _dopolins_ for yourself as a slave raider."

  "An entrepreneur," said Jarth. "In personal services."

  Lan Barda became serious. "There's the signal--it's time to go down.Let's go, Jarth, before somebody else gets them all."

  * * * * *

  An hour later, it was Lan Barda's turn to be nervous. He watched aneedle creep into the red zone.

  "Hurry, Jarth. We've been on this planet long enough. That fifthcobalt bomb is sending the index up fast. Can't you skip these lastfew?"

  "Oh, no. Very unethical to leave these three here to die. Must take asmall chance, you know. Besides, see the sign on that taxi--justmarried. A fine young couple. And a fine young taxi driver. Couldn'tsleep if I didn't help these three."

  "Couldn't sleep thinking of the profit you'd passed up. Here, let metake that one. We have to get out of here fast."

  Jarth Rolan fluttered anxiously about the pilot until they were safelyabove the poisoned atmosphere.

  "How many?" he asked. "Did we fill the ship?"

  Lan Barda checked off items on his clipboard. "A thousand and three,with these last ones. You'll make a good profit."

  "Not so much the profit. Oh, no. More than that involved. Ethics andreligion, Lan. Yes. With all these sla--servants, our people willnever have to use robots. They'll be relieved of routine labor and candevote their lives to art and science. And it's all ethical--oh, yes,for these people were doomed."

  "Want to know something, Jarth?" Lan Barda bent closer and whisperedwickedly. "This ship has automatic controls. Has to. No living beinghas fast enough reactions to handle an interstellar ship. All robotdriven, at least in part."

  "Robots! May we be forgiven!" Jarth stared suspiciously at Lan Barda."Sometimes, Lan, I think you are an agnostic."

  The pilot became more serious. "Maybe, Jarth. In our work, we must userobots. We joke about it, but it goes against all galactic belief tolet a machine think for us. Maybe that's why we pilots are socynical."

  "A galactic is always ethical," said Jarth Rolan solemnly. "Thisaffair, for example. We let these poor creatures of Earth handle theirown affairs with no interference until they doomed themselves. It wasunethical to intervene a minute sooner. Yes--the ethical way and Ifeel better for it and proud to be a galactic."

  "That's true," said Lan Barda. "A galactic wouldn't feel right, beinga member of the dominant race of the Galaxy, if he didn't help theless fortunate."

  * * * * *

  Jarth Rolan had prepared a center on his estate for the slaves. Thedemand was greater than the supply. He chatted happily with his wife.

  "An excellent investment, Shalla--yes. And the highest group councilwants us to lease them out by the day for the present instead ofselling outright."

  She nodded. "That's the fair way. Everybody can have a turn having aslave."

  "And," said Jarth, rubbing his pink hands, "we'll collect every dayand still hold title."

  "Will they multiply fast," asked Shalla, "so there will be enough forall?"

  "They always did on Earth. Yes. By the time we pass our estate on toour son, this investment will have multiplied in value."

  At the center, the slaves clustered about the bulletin boards to readthe slave code. The three who had been brought aboard last stoodtogether. Laurent Crotier and his wife Jean were still in theirwedding clothes, and Sam the taxi driver was in uniform. They read theseven articles of the slave code.

  "We have to work twelve hours a day," Laurent observed. "And have offevery seventh day. This could be worse."

  "We'll keep our eyes open and wait for our chance," Sam piped up."Some day we'll make a break out of here."

  "Yeah," said Jean. "And remember, Frenchy, no kids."

  Nine months later, Laurent, Jr., was born. Before the blessed event,Laurent went to Jarth Rolan with a complaint.

  "She can't do it, work twelve hours a day now. You have to change therules. By gar, if my wife die 'count of this, I goin' kill you, JarthRolan."

  Jarth Rolan waltzed about nervously, biting his fingernails.

  "No, we do not want her to have trouble. No. She will need properrest. There is a meeting of the highest group council right now,concerning this. Others have the same problem. But yes, I will relieveher of work without waiting for the council's decision. Tell your wifeto stay home, Laurent, until the baby is born."

  Laurent pushed his luck. "And after that, too. A kid got to have amother. I do the work for three, you let my wife take care of thefamily."

  "Oh, this _is_ a problem!" Jarth Rolan rubbed his fingers unhappilyover his bald scalp. "Some of the other females are in the samecondition. But it is like planting a crop--one labors hard at thebeginning to reap a great harvest later. We will work this out."

  The next day, fifteen articles amending the code arrived and wereposted. Laurent read happily.

  "Now," he said to Jean, "it is the law. You will stay home and havethe baby."

  "'And for such further period'," she read, "'as is considerednecessary.' You sure told him off, Frenchy."

  She squeezed his arm affectionately and his chest went out a little.

  "And remember," she said, "this is the last one."

  "Look at this rule," said Sam. "All kids must be educated. I'm only--"he winked at them--"thirteen. It's off the job and back to school forme."

  Laurent blinked. "By gar, Sam, I think you been shaving pretty near aslong as I am. But if Jarth Rolan ask me, I sa
y I know Sam isthirteen."

  Jarth Rolan came along to explain the amendments.

  "We don't want the slaves to be ignorant. Oh, no. It will be worthextra effort and expense to reap the harvest. The slaves will work atmany specialized tasks. Even personal servants will read and writeletters and help at business and keep accounts--yes, indeed. We mustassign some slaves to teaching."

  * * * * *

  About the time Laurent, Jr., started school, Laurent led a