The Ethical Engineer by Harry Harrison

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."
    "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