The Ethical Engineer

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by Harry Harrison

could and was tired ofit. He could take care of himself: he felt the anger rising again atthe remembered words. Was that the only reason he had let this copcapture him? To show the Pyrrans that he was able to control his owndestiny? Was the human ego such a pitiable thing that it had to keepreassuring itself of its own independence or lie down on its back andcurl up its toes?

  Apparently it was. At least his was. The years had taught him acertain insight into his own personality and he realized that hisgreedy little subconscious had collected all the cues and signals fromthe encounter at the spaceport and goaded him into a line of actionthat looked uncomfortably like suicide. The arrival of the stranger,the threat to himself, the automatic assumption by the Pyrrans thatthey would take care of him. Apparently his ego and his subconsciousfelt that he had been taken care of too long. They had managed to gethim into this spot from which he could only be extricated by his owntalents, far away from Pyrrus and the pressures that had been weighingon 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 thepast. Now he had to prove that there was something other than a deathwish in his subconscious flight from Pyrrus, and he must find a way toreverse positions with this cop, whoever he was. Which meant that hehad 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 tellingme who you are and showing me a warrant or something under which youare performing this deed of interstellar justice."

  "I am Mikah Samon. I am returning you to Cassylia for trial andsentencing."

  "Ah, yes," Jason sighed. "I'm not surprised to hear that they arestill interested in finding me. But I should warn you that there isvery little remaining of the three-billion, seventeen-million creditsthat I won from your casino."

  "Cassylia doesn't want the money back," Mikah said as he locked thecontrols and swung about in his chair. "They don't want you backeither. You are their planetary hero now. When you escaped with yourill-gotten gains they realized that they would never see the moneyagain. So they put their propaganda mills to work and you are nowknown throughout all the adjoining star systems as 'Jason 3-Billion',the living proof of the honesty of their dishonest games, and a lurefor all the weak in spirit. You tempt them into gambling for moneyinstead of working honestly for it."

  "Pardon me for being thick today," Jason said, shaking his headrapidly to loosen up the stuck synapses. "I'm having a littledifficulty in following you. What kind of a policeman are you toarrest me for trial after the charges have been dropped?"

  "I'm not a policeman," Mikah said sternly, his long fingers woventightly together before him, his eyes wide and penetrating. "I'm abeliever in Truth--nothing more. The corrupt politicians who controlCassylia have placed you on a pedestal of honor. Honoring you,another--and if possible--a more corrupt man, and behind your imagethey have waxed fat. But I am going to use the Truth to destroy thatimage, and when I destroy the image I shall destroy the evil thatproduced it."

  "That's a tall order for one man," Jason said calmly--much calmer thanhe really felt. "Do you have a cigarette?"

  "There is, of course, no tobacco or spirits on this ship. And I ammore than one man. I have followers. The Truth Party is already apower to be reckoned with. We have spent much time and energy intracking you down, but it was worth it. We have followed yourdishonest trail into the past, to Mahaut's Planet, to the NebulaCasino on Galipto, through a series of sordid crimes that turns anhonest man's stomach. We have warrants for your arrest from each ofthese places, in some cases even the results of trials and your deathsentence."

  "I suppose it doesn't bother your sense of legality that those trialswere all held in my absence," Jason asked. "Or that I have onlyfleeced casinos and gamblers--who make their living by fleecingsuckers?"

  Mikah Samon wiped away this consideration with a wave of his hand."You have been proven guilty of a number of crimes. No amount ofwriggling on the hook can change that. You should be thankful thatyour revolting record will have a good use in the end. It will be thelever with which we shall topple the grafting government of Cassylia."

  "I'm beginning to be sorry that I stopped Kerk and Meta from shootingyou," Jason said, shaking his head in wonder. "I have a very strongsuspicion that you are going to cause yourself--and a lot of otherpeople--a good deal of trouble before this thing is over. Look at mefor instance--" he rattled his wrists in their restraining bands. Theservo motors whined a bit as the detector unit came to life andtightened the grasp of the cuffs, limiting his movement. "A littlewhile ago I was enjoying my health and freedom and I threw it all awayon the impulse to save your life. I'm going to have to learn to fightthose impulses."

  "If that is supposed to be a plea for mercy, it is sickening," Mikahsaid. "I have never taken favors nor do I owe anything to men of yourtype. Nor will I ever."

  "_Ever_ like _never_ is a long time," Jason said very quietly. "I wishI had your serenity of mind about the sure order of things."

  "Your remark shows that there might be hope for you yet. You might beable to recognise the Truth before you die. I will help you, talk toyou 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 gavea light verbal prod, very gently, because whatever else he was, Mikahwas not stupid. "I would prefer you to feed me of course, you'd makean 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 haveto do it with only one hand. If you were freed you would only causetrouble." He touched the control on the back of the chair and theright wrist lock snapped open. Jason stretched his cramped fingers andpicked up the fork.

  While he ate Jason's eyes were busy. Not obviously, since a gambler'sattention is never obvious, but many things can be seen if you keepyour eyes open and your attention apparently elsewhere. A suddenglimpse of someone's cards, the slight change of expression thatreveals a player's strength. Item by item his seemingly random gazetouched the items in the cabin: control console, screens, computer,chart screen, jump control chart case, bookshelf. Everything wasobserved, remembered and considered. Some combination of them wouldfit 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: Hewas not going to remain a prisoner--nor return to Cassylia. Now allthat was missing was the vital middle. It looked impossible at themoment, but Jason never considered that it couldn't be done. Heoperated on the principle that you made your own luck. You kept youreyes open as things evolved and at the right moment you acted. If youacted fast enough, that was good luck. If you worried over thepossibilities until the moment had passed, that was bad luck.

  He pushed the empty plate away and stirred sugar into his cup. Mikahhad eaten sparingly and was now starting on his second cup of tea. Hiseyes were fixed, unfocused in thought as he drank. He started slightlywhen Jason called to him.

  "Since you don't stock cigarettes on this ship--how about letting mesmoke my own? You'll have to dig them out for me since I can't reachthe pocket while I'm chained to this chair."

  "I cannot help you," Mikah said, unmoving. "Tobacco is an irritant, adrug and a carcinogen. If I gave you a cigarette, I would be givingyou cancer."

  "Don't be a hypocrite!" Jason snapped, inwardly pleased at therewarding flush in the other's neck. "They've taken thecancer-producing agents out of tobacco for centuries now. And even ifthey hadn't--how does that affect this situation. You're taking me toCassylia to certain death. So why should you concern yourself with thestate of my lungs in the future?"

  "I hadn't considered it that way. It is just that there are certainrules of life...."

  "Are there?" Jason broke i
n, keeping the initiative and the advantage."Not as many as you like to think. And you people who are alwaysdreaming up the rules never carry your thinking far enough. You areagainst drugs. Which drugs? What about the tannic acid in that teayou're drinking? Or the caffeine in it? It's loaded with caffeine--adrug that is both a strong stimulant and a diuretic. That's why youwon't find tea in spacesuit canteens. That's a case of a drugforbidden for a good reason. Can you justify your cigarette ban thesame way?"

  Mikah started to talk, then thought for a moment. "Perhaps you areright. I'm

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