{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_31962/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_31962","id":"gutenberg_31962","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/31962","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Science Fiction","Science fiction","Short stories"],"text":"Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                         Transcriber's Note:\n\n    This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction March 1958.\n    Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n    copyright on this publication was renewed.\n\n\n                           The Ethical Way\n\n\n                          By JOSEPH FARRELL\n\n\n     _There is a way around every tabu, knock on wood--but just\n      watch out that the wood doesn't knock back!_\n\n\n                        Illustrated by JOHNSON\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\n\"Is it time?\" Jarth Rolan asked anxiously. Pilot Lan Barda pushed him\ngently back into a seat. \"No, but very soon. And be calm--you're\njumpier than a human.\"\n\n\"But we've waited so long--yes, a long time. And I _am_ anxious to get\nhome.\"\n\nLan peered calmly out of his vehicle. They were hovering in Earth's\nupper atmosphere, at the permitted limit.\n\n\"Be patient. These people have almost reached the critical point.\nWe'll get the signal before long.\"\n\nJarth Rolan popped out of his chair and danced about in nervous\nexcitement.\n\n\"Won't it be dangerous? For us, I mean. Going down into that\nradioactive atmosphere. And how about them--will any of them live?\nSuppose we wait too long?\"\n\nLan Barda laughed. He was a husky humanoid, pinkish of skin and\ncompletely hairless, like all galactics. He slapped Jarth Rolan's\nback.\n\n\"We have experts watching. These humans have used four cobalt bombs,\nand plenty of smaller stuff. The fallout is close to the danger point.\nOur observers will know just when we can move in because--\" he winked\nand his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper--\"they're using\nautomatically controlled instruments.\"\n\n\"Oh, my!\" Jarth Rolan clapped his hands to his cheeks. \"But those are\nrobots--and the use of robots is against religion.\"\n\n\"I know, Jarth. But we won't be using them much longer, will we?\" He\npoked a playful finger into Jarth's ribs. \"We'll have slaves--and\nit'll be completely ethical.\"\n\nJarth Rolan winced. \"Must you use that word 'slaves,' Lan? It sounds\nso--\" He waved his hands.\n\nLan laughed again. \"Be honest with yourself, Jarth. You're out to make\na few _dopolins_ for yourself as a slave raider.\"\n\n\"An entrepreneur,\" said Jarth. \"In personal services.\"\n\nLan Barda became serious. \"There's the signal--it's time to go down.\nLet's go, Jarth, before somebody else gets them all.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAn hour later, it was Lan Barda's turn to be nervous. He watched a\nneedle creep into the red zone.\n\n\"Hurry, Jarth. We've been on this planet long enough. That fifth\ncobalt bomb is sending the index up fast. Can't you skip these last\nfew?\"\n\n\"Oh, no. Very unethical to leave these three here to die. Must take a\nsmall chance, you know. Besides, see the sign on that taxi--just\nmarried. A fine young couple. And a fine young taxi driver. Couldn't\nsleep if I didn't help these three.\"\n\n\"Couldn't sleep thinking of the profit you'd passed up. Here, let me\ntake that one. We have to get out of here fast.\"\n\nJarth Rolan fluttered anxiously about the pilot until they were safely\nabove the poisoned atmosphere.\n\n\"How many?\" he asked. \"Did we fill the ship?\"\n\nLan Barda checked off items on his clipboard. \"A thousand and three,\nwith these last ones. You'll make a good profit.\"\n\n\"Not so much the profit. Oh, no. More than that involved. Ethics and\nreligion, Lan. Yes. With all these sla--servants, our people will\nnever have to use robots. They'll be relieved of routine labor and can\ndevote their lives to art and science. And it's all ethical--oh, yes,\nfor these people were doomed.\"\n\n\"Want to know something, Jarth?\" Lan Barda bent closer and whispered\nwickedly. \"This ship has automatic controls. Has to. No living being\nhas fast enough reactions to handle an interstellar ship. All robot\ndriven, at least in part.\"\n\n\"Robots! May we be forgiven!\" Jarth stared suspiciously at Lan Barda.\n\"Sometimes, Lan, I think you are an agnostic.\"\n\nThe pilot became more serious. \"Maybe, Jarth. In our work, we must use\nrobots. We joke about it, but it goes against all galactic belief to\nlet a machine think for us. Maybe that's why we pilots are so\ncynical.\"\n\n\"A galactic is always ethical,\" said Jarth Rolan solemnly. \"This\naffair, for example. We let these poor creatures of Earth handle their\nown affairs with no interference until they doomed themselves. It was\nunethical to intervene a minute sooner. Yes--the ethical way and I\nfeel better for it and proud to be a galactic.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" said Lan Barda. \"A galactic wouldn't feel right, being\na member of the dominant race of the Galaxy, if he didn't help the\nless fortunate.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nJarth Rolan had prepared a center on his estate for the slaves. The\ndemand was greater than the supply. He chatted happily with his wife.\n\n\"An excellent investment, Shalla--yes. And the highest group council\nwants us to lease them out by the day for the present instead of\nselling outright.\"\n\nShe nodded. \"That's the fair way. Everybody can have a turn having a\nslave.\"\n\n\"And,\" said Jarth, rubbing his pink hands, \"we'll collect every day\nand still hold title.\"\n\n\"Will they multiply fast,\" asked Shalla, \"so there will be enough for\nall?\"\n\n\"They always did on Earth. Yes. By the time we pass our estate on to\nour son, this investment will have multiplied in value.\"\n\nAt the center, the slaves clustered about the bulletin boards to read\nthe slave code. The three who had been brought aboard last stood\ntogether. Laurent Crotier and his wife Jean were still in their\nwedding clothes, and Sam the taxi driver was in uniform. They read the\nseven articles of the slave code.\n\n\"We have to work twelve hours a day,\" Laurent observed. \"And have off\nevery seventh day. This could be worse.\"\n\n\"We'll keep our eyes open and wait for our chance,\" Sam piped up.\n\"Some day we'll make a break out of here.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" said Jean. \"And remember, Frenchy, no kids.\"\n\nNine months later, Laurent, Jr., was born. Before the blessed event,\nLaurent went to Jarth Rolan with a complaint.\n\n\"She can't do it, work twelve hours a day now. You have to change the\nrules. By gar, if my wife die 'count of this, I goin' kill you, Jarth\nRolan.\"\n\nJarth Rolan waltzed about nervously, biting his fingernails.\n\n\"No, we do not want her to have trouble. No. She will need proper\nrest. There is a meeting of the highest group council right now,\nconcerning this. Others have the same problem. But yes, I will relieve\nher of work without waiting for the council's decision. Tell your wife\nto stay home, Laurent, until the baby is born.\"\n\nLaurent pushed his luck. \"And after that, too. A kid got to have a\nmother. I do the work for three, you let my wife take care of the\nfamily.\"\n\n\"Oh, this _is_ a problem!\" Jarth Rolan rubbed his fingers unhappily\nover his bald scalp. \"Some of the other females are in the same\ncondition. But it is like planting a crop--one labors hard at the\nbeginning to reap a great harvest later. We will work this out.\"\n\nThe next day, fifteen articles amending the code arrived and were\nposted. Laurent read happily.\n\n\"Now,\" he said to Jean, \"it is the law. You will stay home and have\nthe baby.\"\n\n\"'And for such further period',\" she read, \"'as is considered\nnecessary.' You sure told him off, Frenchy.\"\n\nShe squeezed his arm affectionately and his chest went out a little.\n\n\"And remember,\" she said, \"this is the last one.\"\n\n\"Look at this rule,\" said Sam. \"All kids must be educated. I'm only--\"\nhe winked at them--\"thirteen. It's off the job and back to school for\nme.\"\n\nLaurent blinked. \"By gar, Sam, I think you been shaving pretty near as\nlong as I am. But if Jarth Rolan ask me, I say I know Sam is\nthirteen.\"\n\nJarth Rolan came along to explain the amendments.\n\n\"We don't want the slaves to be ignorant. Oh, no. It will be worth\nextra effort and expense to reap the harvest. The slaves will work at\nmany specialized tasks. Even personal servants will read and write\nletters and help at business and keep accounts--yes, indeed. We must\nassign some slaves to teaching.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAbout the time Laurent, Jr., started school, Laurent led a delegation\nto Jarth Rolan.\n\n\"We got some complaint to make. These food servings pretty small\nlately. We work hard, we have to eat more.\"\n\nJarth Rolan's facial skin had developed wrinkles, though the\ngalactics' life span was comparable to a human's and he was only about\nforty. He fidgeted.\n\n\"I am sorry--oh, yes. Sorry. There have been delays in food\nshipments--the same trouble all over. Too many excused from the work\nforce, you know. Most of the women are pregnant or have children, and\nteachers and special assignments--but things will improve, believe me.\nYes. You will soon find an improvement. Yes--very soon.\"\n\nThe delegation talked it over outside Jarth Rolan's house.\n\n\"He's been letting himself go,\" said a woman. \"Did you notice how thin\nhe's become? And the same with his family.\"\n\nLaurent reflected. \"To raise a lot of kids is hard. My father, he work\nlike hell all the time. Raise his own food, don't depend on nobody. I\nthink that land back of the center, we should plough it up and put in\nsome potatoes.\"\n\n\"On our own time?\" Sam exclaimed.\n\nLaurent chuckled. \"Well, Sam, you got no kids--you just a young boy\neighteen years old. By gar, I think you have gray hair when you\ntwenty-one.\"\n\nThe others joined the laughter. Sam's lie about his age had\nboomeranged--he had been kept in school and denied permission to marry\nuntil he was officially eighteen, a few months ago.\n\nLaurent fingered his chin thoughtfully. \"I think we look over that\nland. Maybe we get some time out from our regular work, we do some\nfarming.\"\n\nBefore the blowup on Earth, the galactics had made occasional landings\nto gather animals and seeds of food plants. Certain centers were put\nunder government control to grow food for the slaves. The people at\nJarth Rolan's center saw that this arrangement was breaking down\nbecause of the increasing slave population and the diversion of labor\nto child raising. They looked over the piece of land and Laurent\nokayed it. They went back to Jarth Rolan. He approved at once.\n\n\"Oh, indeed. I can obtain all the equipment you'll need. Get started\nright away. We can grow a good part of our own food. Yes. I am sure it\nwill work out.\"\n\n\"We goin' need some time for work the farm,\" Laurent pointed out.\n\n\"Oh? I thought maybe in your spare time--\"\n\n\"You want to kill us?\" Sam demanded. \"Put us on an extra job after\nworking us hard twelve hours a day?\"\n\n\"But--there's so little coming in. Still, maybe you're right. Worth\nthe extra trouble and expense now. Building for the future--that's the\nidea.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nJarth Rolan notified his group leader of the arrangement and it\npercolated swiftly up through the hierarchy to the council of the\nhighest group heads, who directed policy for the entire Galaxy. There\nwere nine of them and they talked over this development.\n\n\"I approve. We should have done it this way from the beginning.\"\n\n\"Of course. But certain advocates of government control insisted on\npublic ownership of the food farms--\"\n\n\"What do you mean, certain advocates? If you mean me, be galactic\nenough to say so.\"\n\n\"I intend no personal offense to anybody. But there is bound to be\ninefficiency in any government project--\"\n\nThe chairman pounded the table. \"Stay with the subject. It has been\nsuggested that each center grow part of its food. I am in favor.\"\n\n\"But it cuts down the available labor force. We're having complaints\nnow about the shortage of slaves--\"\n\n\"Think of the future. I admit the present situation is difficult. It's\nlike raising a herd of prize cattle--all expense and no profit at\nfirst. Then the herd is built up and suddenly you're rich.\"\n\n\"But we're putting so much into it--\"\n\n\"The more we put in, the more we take out. And they're multiplying\nrapidly. Remember our new goal of two slaves for each galactic--one\nfor the day shift and one for the night. It's the only way our people\ncan live a decent life, freed from routine labor, devoting themselves\nto art and science.\"\n\n\"That's right. We work so our children can lead the better life. It's\nworth some sacrifice.\"\n\nThe chairman stood up. \"Most of us seem willing to endure a little\nhardship now for the benefit of our children. I suggest we endorse\nthis new procedure.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nLaurent, Jr., married the girl next door. Laurent celebrated the\nwedding with a barrel of beer he had brewed on the farm. Sam became\nglassy-eyed and lectured the young couple.\n\n\"Just wait for the right time. Rise up and capture their spaceships.\nThat's what we'll do. We'll go back to Earth and then let them try to\nget us off it again.\"\n\n\"But Earth is dead,\" Laurent, Jr., objected. \"We can't live there.\nPoisonous radiation.\"\n\n\"By gar!\" Laurent drained another brew. \"You believe everything they\ntell you, hah? We goin' show them sometime. Like Sam says, not now,\nbut sometime. Maybe me and Sam don't do it, but don't you kids\nforget--you not goin' be slaves always. You watch for the right time,\nlike Sam says.\"\n\nHis son looked dubious. \"But what you told me about Earth doesn't\nsound so good. Like the way you were so cold and hungry in that shack\nin Canada. And Mama walking up five flights in New York after working\nall day in the garment factory. And all those wars! Why did you\npeople spend half your time shooting each other, Dad?\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nLaurent belched indignantly. \"By gar, boy! We was free! We don't have\nno galactic stand over us, do this, do that. We was free!\"\n\n\"We don't work so hard,\" said his son. \"And look at old Jarth Rolan\nand the others out there--they've given us the day off, but the\ngalactics are all busy in the fields. Everybody has to work, Dad.\"\n\nLaurent looked through a slight haze at the masters laboring in the\npotato fields. Farm work and teaching and other special assignments\nhad created a shortage of personal slaves. Jarth Rolan gave preference\nin leasing slaves to those who came and helped him at the center.\n\nSince having a personal slave was a mark of prestige among the\ngalactics, many of those laboring on the farm were from the highest\nlevels of society.\n\n\"They don't know nothing about raise potatoes,\" Laurent grumbled. \"We\nput in complaint, by damn. We want each one have his own land. I work\nlike jackass, I want to get paid for it.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe highest group council was in session. One member was explaining:\n\"It's the custom of tipping slaves. At first, those who could get a\nslave were so happy that they often gave him a few coins. Now the\ncustom is firmly established--anybody who doesn't tip a slave is\nconsidered cheap. I do it and so do you.\"\n\n\"Of course. What's wrong with giving them a few _polins_ now and then?\nOr a _dopolin_ or two when they have a baby or a wedding?\"\n\n\"Nothing wrong with it, in itself. But they don't spend anything. We\nsupply their food and clothing; nothing else we have seems to appeal\nto them. The money goes out of circulation. It's estimated that half\nthe money in the Galaxy is being hoarded by slaves.\"\n\n\"What? That's impossible. Just from those small tips?\"\n\n\"Small tips, but day after day; year after year. Add up some time what\nyou've given and multiply by the number who've been doing it.\"\n\n\"Then that's behind our economic troubles. A currency shortage. Can we\ntake it away from them?\"\n\n\"Of course not. Besides being unethical, it would turn them against\nus. They wouldn't understand.\"\n\n\"Then we'll abolish tipping.\"\n\n\"Too late. What we need is an ethical way of getting back that\ncurrency.\"\n\nA new member spoke: \"I understand that on Earth these slaves were\noften addicted to alcohol, gambling and various alkaloids. Perhaps we\ncould introduce these items, under government control, of course--\"\n\nHe stopped. Eight pair of eyes were blazing at him.\n\n\"You're new here,\" the chairman said. \"If you ever make another\nsuggestion like that--\"\n\nThey pondered. The chairman fingered some papers.\n\n\"Here's a suggestion. The slaves have been petitioning for the right\nto own land. It seems to be the only thing they'll spend their money\nfor.\"\n\n\"Impossible!\"\n\n\"But maybe--\"\n\n\"We could limit the holdings.\"\n\n\"And have the land subject to condemnation by the government at a fair\nprice.\"\n\nThe chairman called for order. \"Let's argue this out. Remember the\nslaves will need time to work their land. Since their work day is down\nto nine hours, we'll have to arrange something.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nJean had been complaining about the lumps in the mattress. When\nLaurent took them out, there was enough in galactic currency to buy a\npiece of land in his name and hers, plus a plot for each of the\nchildren, and a new mattress as well. Sam was suspicious.\n\n\"They're out to get what little we've been able to save, Laurent. They\ncan take the land anytime--for what they call a fair price. Fair! Fine\nchance they'll be fair about it.\"\n\nBut Laurent kept the land and was even able to buy a piece for each\ngrandchild, although they arrived faster and faster as his own large\nfamily grew up and married. One day Jean called him to a new house at\nthe edge of the widely expanded center to see the latest arrival.\n\nLaurent poked a finger at the squalling creature. \"So I'm another\ngrandpa. Which one this?\"\n\n\"This time you're a great-grandpa, Frenchy. This is Laurent 4th.\"\n\n\"You mean we gettin' that old? By damn! Well, I'm buy him a piece of\nland, too. So much new building, this land be worth plenty when he\ngrows up.\"\n\nThe 512th amendment permitted slaves to retire at 65. Laurent was a\nleading real estate dealer by that time. He had twenty-three children\nand more grandchildren than he could count. The center was grown to a\ncity, its main street running through what had been his first farm.\nSometimes Laurent relaxed in his rocking chair and needled Sam.\n\n\"By gar, Sam, if you not the oldest-looking man of fifty-five I ever\nsee. I think you a hundred years old when you retire. When you havin'\nthat revolution?\"\n\n\"The day will come if we keep after the young ones. But damn it,\nLaurent, it's hard to talk any sense into them. Some of them can't\neven understand me.\"\n\n\"Well, they all talk galactic, Sam. My grandson, he call himself Loran\nKotay. But these young people, they have to live their own lives. Hey,\nlook at old Jarth Rolan up there, washing his windows. Old guy should\nretire, Sam. I'm goin' see a couple of my boys give him a hand.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBut Jarth Rolan died before he could afford to retire and was replaced\nby his only grandson, Jarro Kogar. Laurent and Jean passed on shortly\nafter, leaving nearly four hundred descendants.\n\nJarro Kogar was a newly married galactic in his early thirties. He\nmoved into the mansion and talked things over with his wife.\n\n\"Don't see how we can afford a child right now. Wouldn't be fair to\nthe child. Things will improve in a few years.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" she said. \"We're young--we'll have time to start our\nfamily. If we wait, we'll be able to give them more.\"\n\nThey held similar conversations later and one day realized it was too\nlate. Jarro Kogar died in his sixties. His widow directed the center\nfor several more years. The slaves liked her and took good care of\nher. She left them the estate when she died.\n\nLoran Krotalu protested to the authorities that the slaves didn't want\nthe estate. But the group heads ruled it legal under amendment 1,486,\nespecially since no relatives could be located.\n\nLoran left the center and moved to another city where he found a\ngalactic couple who wanted a slave. He and his family served the\ngalactic couple for many years. This couple, like Jarro Kogar and his\nwife, were childless and when they both died, Loran and his wife were\nvery grieved.\n\nAfter the funeral, Loran went into the city. He returned hours later,\ntired and depressed.\n\n\"It's no use,\" he told his wife. \"There's not an unattached galactic\nin the area. We might get a few hours work a week with one, but we\ncan't have one to ourselves.\"\n\n\"But, Loran, _everybody_ in our set works for a galactic!\"\n\n\"I know,\" he said miserably. \"But it's no use. There must be fifty\nslaves for every galactic. I've taken a job at the spaceship factory.\nIt's the best I can do.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMembership on the highest group council had become a killing job.\nChief problem was the revision of the slave code, which had 3,697\narticles. After trying for years to simplify the code, the council\nmembers called in Loran Krovalo to fill a vacancy and take over the\njob.\n\nLoran was known and liked by galactic and slave alike for his\nbrilliant essays on the master-slave relationship. While he was on the\ncouncil, the Cerberan affair broke out. The Cerberans, an intelligent\nsaurian race from a globular cluster, exploded into the Galaxy in vast\nnumbers. Military action became necessary.\n\n\"We can handle them,\" Loran told the council. \"Our factories are\nmobilized and we have any number of spacemen. We have robot\ninstruments for fighting that are better than anything they have. We\ncan carry the war to their home planets.\"\n\nSome of the galactics objected.\n\n\"But the use of robots is forbidden. We can't fight the Cerberans with\nrobot-controlled weapons.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, sir,\" Loran said kindly. \"We slaves will take care of\nit. Our form of religion doesn't prohibit robots unless they are in\nthe shape of a man. We think of real robots as being human in shape.\"\n\nOne of the galactics rose.\n\n\"I know you're right, but my conscience won't let me vote for robots\nin any form. Therefore I am resigning from the council.\"\n\nA second rose, then a third and fourth. They looked at each other, and\none spoke for the group.\n\n\"We are also resigning. I suggest that four slaves be appointed in our\nplaces for the duration of the war. Then they will have a majority and\nno galactic need violate his conscience by voting for the use of\nrobots.\"\n\nThe Cerberans were crushed, but the infested area was huge and the\ninvasion of the globular cluster took time. The war emergency lasted\nfifty years. When it was over, the slaves called on the galactics to\ntake back control of the government.\n\nBut the widespread use of robot mechanisms in the war had caused a\nreaction among the galactics. Their consciences simmered and a wave of\northodoxy swept over their race. There was difficulty in persuading\ngalactics to leave their home planets to sit on the council, because\nfaster-than-light ships used robot controls.\n\nThe slaves scoured the planet that housed the council and kept two or\nthree seats filled with galactics for a while. But they were generally\nold, and they died, and most of them were unmarried or childless.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nLoran Crotay, twelfth-generation slave, sat in his home chatting with\na friend from far-off Pornalu VI. Being in the space-shipping\nbusiness, he had many friends throughout the Galaxy.\n\nHis wife answered the door and a pink humanoid shuffled in, mumbling\ngreetings, and went into the other room. He was middle-aged, studious\nand bespectacled, and he wore a wig. Loran's friend watched him\ncuriously.\n\n\"Haven't seen one of them in years, Loran. We have a reservation for\nthe poor devils on my planet. Don't reproduce very fast, you know, and\nthey may become extinct. Too bad--they're so likable. Always so\nethical and conscientious.\"\n\n\"I know.\" Loran nodded. \"We let poor Vendro make a few _dopolins_\ntutoring our son. He's very intelligent and a good teacher. I like to\nhelp them all I can--the only ethical thing to do. I wouldn't feel\nlike a slave if I didn't give poor Vendro a break.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" said his friend. \"A slave wouldn't feel right, being a\nmember of the dominant race of the Galaxy, if he didn't help the less\nfortunate.\"\n\n                                                       --JOSEPH FARRELL\n\n       *       *       *       *       *","title":"The Ethical Way","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":4142}