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The Jason dinAlt fan club meeting is now adjourned." He reached his hand over his shoulder and patted himself on the back. "Monster of arrogance," Mikah bellowed. "Oh, shut up." "Pride goeth before a fall! You are a maledicent and idolatrous antipietist...." "Very good."
"Silence both of you, or I'll have you beaten to death. This is my judgment. The slave Mikah has betrayed the slave Jason, and whether the slave Jason is planning rebellion or not is completely unimportant. His assistant would have not denounced him unless he was sure that he could do the work as well, which is the only fact that has any importance to me.
Want to spend the rest of your life rebuilding stolen engines? They are guarding us too well for there to be much chance of our breaking out on our own, so we need allies. We have them ready made, all the slaves." "Brevilushun...." Mikah mumbled through the restraining fingers. "Of course it's a revolution. It is also the only possible chance of survival that these poor devils will ever have.
Now look at the jump screen there on the control console and you will see what I mean. Do you see the horizontal green line? Well, that's our course." "Since this is my ship and I'm flying it I'm aware of that," Mikah said. "Get on with your proof." "Bear with me," Jason told him. "I'll try and keep it simple. Now the red dot on the green line is our ship's position.
This little symbol means that there is a planet or planets suitable for man to live on. Doesn't say if any people are there though." "Where does this all lead to?" Mikah interrupted. "Patience you'll see in a moment. Now look, at the screen. The green dot approaching on the course line is the PMP. Point of Maximum Proximity. When the red dot and green dot coincide...."
The guard shoved Mikah in after him and locked the door. Jason secured it with his own interior bolt then waved the two others over to the corner farthest from the door and tiny window opening. "New slaves today," he told them, "and one of them is from Appsala, a mercenary or a soldier of some kind that they captured on a skirmish.
"Of course," Mikah snapped, a glint of pleasure in his eyes at the thought of a good rousing round of hair-splitting. "Ethics is the discipline dealing with what it good or bad, or right or wrong or with moral duty and obligation. Ethos means the guiding beliefs, standards or ideals that characterize a group or community."
"Come, come you have to agree on the terms of your own definition. The ethos of a group is just a catch-all term for the ways in which the members of a group rub against each other. Right?" Mikah reluctantly produced a nod of acquiescence. "Now that we agree about that we can push on one step further. Ethics, again by your definition, must deal with any number of societies or groups.
Some of it was in his ears, muffling them, so the first intimation he had that the door was opened was the sound of Mikah's hoarse shout. He was standing in the doorway, finger pointed and shaking with wrath. Narsisi was standing behind him, peering over his shoulder with fascination at this weird religious rite. "Degradation!" Mikah thundered.
Some of this finally penetrated to Mikah because he crawled forward grasping desperately to every hand-hold until he crouched beside Jason. "Grab this tiller and hold it straight and steer around anything big enough to see." As soon as the steering was taken over Jason worked his way back to the engine and throttled down; they slowed to a clanking walk then stopped completely.
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