The Ethical Engineer Read Online Free PDF Page A

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