The Last Defender Of Camelot

by Roger Zelazny

  Frost had had no knowledge of the existence of this machine prior to its appearance upon the distant, stark horizon.

  He studied it as it approached and knew it to be no creation of Solcom's.

  It came to a halt before his southern surface and broadcasted to him:

  "Hail, Frost! Controller of the northern hemisphere!"

  "What are you?" asked Frost.

  "I am called Mordel."

  "By whom? What are you?"

  "A wanderer, an antiquarian. We share a common interest."

  "What is that?"

  "Man," he said. "I have been told that you seek knowledge of this vanished being.""Who told you that?"

  "Those who have watched your minions at their digging."

  "And who are those who watch?"

  "There are many such as I, who wander."

  "If you are not of Solcom, then you are a creation of the Alternate."

  "It does not necessarily follow. There is an ancient machine high on the eastern seaboard which processes the waters of the ocean. Solcom did not create it, nor Divcom. It has always been there. It interferes with the works of neither. Both countenance its existence. I can cite you many other examples proving that one need not be either/or."

  "Enough! Are you an agent of Divcom?"

  "I am Mordel."

  "Why are you here?"

  "I was passing this way and, as I said, we share a common interest, mighty Frost. Knowing you to be a fellow antiquarian, I have brought a thing which you might care to see."

  "What is that?"

  "A book."

  "Show me."

  The turret opened, revealing the book upon a wide shelf.

  Frost dilated a small opening and extended an optical scanner on a long jointed stalk.

  "How could it have been so perfectly preserved?" he asked.

  "It was stored against time and corruption in the place where I found it."

  "Where was that?"

  "Far from here. Beyond your hemisphere."

  "Human Physiology," Frost read. "I wish to scan it."

  "Very well. I will riffle the pages for you."

  He did so.

  After he had finished, Frost raised his eyestalk and regarded Mordel through it.

  "Have you more books?"

  "Not with me. I occasionally come upon them, however."

  "I want to scan them all."

  'Then the next time I pass this way I will bring you another."

  "When will that be?""That I cannot say, great Frost. It will be when it will be."

  "What do you know of Man?" asked Frost.

  "Much," replied Mordel. "Many things. Someday when I have more time I will speak to you of Him. I must go now. You will not try to detain me?"

  "No. You have done no harm. If you must go now, go. But come back."

  "I shall indeed, mighty Frost."

  And he closed his turret and rolled off toward the other horizon.

  For ninety years, Frost considered the ways of human physiology and waited.

  The day that Mordel returned he brought with him An Outline of History and A Shropshire Lad.

  Frost scanned them both, then-he turned his attention to Mordel.

  "Have you time to impart information?"

  "Yes," said Mordel. "What do you wish to know?"

  "The nature of Man."

  "Man," said Mordel, "possessed a basically incomprehensible nature. I can illustrate it, though: He did not know measurement."

  "Of course He knew measurement," said Frost, "or He could never have built machines."

  "I did not say that He could not measure," said Mordel, "but that 'He did not know measurement, which is a different thing altogether."

  "Clarify."

  Mordel drove a shaft of metal downward into the snow.

  He retracted it, raised it, held up a piece of ice.

  "Regard this piece of ice, mighty Frost. You can tell me its composition, dimensions, weight, temperature. A Man could not look at it and do that, A Man could make tools which would tell Him these things, but He still would not know measurement as you know it. What He would know of it, though, is a thing that you cannot know."

  "What is that?"

  "That it is cold." said Mordei, and tossed it away.

  " 'Cold' is a relative term."

  "Yes. Relative to Man."

  "But if I were aware of the point on a temperature-scale below which an object is cold to a Man and above which it is not, then I, too, would know cold."

  "No," said Mordel, "you would possess another measurement. 'Cold' is a sensation predicated upon human physiology."

  "But given sufficient data I could obtain the conversion factor which would make me aware of the condition of matter called 'cold'."

  "Aware of its existence, but not of the thing itself."

  "I do not understand what you say."

  "I told you that Man possessed a basically incomprehensible nature. His perceptions were organic; yours are not. As a result of His perceptions He had feelings and emotions. These often gave rise to other feelings and emotions, which in turn caused others, until the state of His awareness was far removed from the objects which originally stimulated it. These paths of awareness cannot be known by that which is not-Man. Man did not feel inches or meters, pounds or gallons. He felt heat, He felt cold; He felt heaviness and lightness. He knew hatred and love, pride and despair. You cannot measure these things. You cannot know them. You can only know the things that He did not need to know: dimensions, weights, temperatures, gravities. There is no formula for a feeling. There is no conversion factor for an emotion."

  "There must be," said Frost. "If a thing exists, it is knowable."

  "You are speaking again of measurement. I am talking about a quality of experience. A machine is a Man turned inside-out, because it can describe all the details of a process, which a Man cannot, but it cannot experience that process itself as a Man can."

  "There must be a way," said Frost, "or the laws of logic, which are based upon the functions of the universe, are false."

  "There is no way," said Mordel.

  "Given sufiicent data, I will find a way," said Frost.

  "All the data in the universe will not make you a Man, mighty Frost."

  "Mordel, you are wrong."

  "Why do the lines of the poems you scanned end with word-sounds which so regularly approximate the final word-sounds of other lines?'*

  "I do not know why.""Because it pleased Man to order them so. It produced a certain desirable sensation within His awareness when He read them, a sensation compounded of feeling and emotion as well as the literal meanings of the words. You did not experience this because it is immeasurable to you. That is why you do not know,"

  "Given sufficient data I could formulate a process whereby I would know."

  "No, great Frost, this thing you cannot do,'*

  "Who are you, little machine, to tell me what I can do and what I cannot do? I am the most efficient logicdevice Solcom ever made. I am Frost."

  "And I, Mordel, say it cannot be done, though I should gladly assist you in the attempt."

  "How could you assist me?"

  "How? I could lay open to you the Library of Man. I could take you around the world and conduct you among the wonders of Man which still remain, hidden. I could summon up visions of times long past when Man walked the Earth. I could show you the things which delighted Him. I could obtain for you anything you desire, excepting Manhood itself."

  "Enough," said Frost. "How could a unit such as yourself do these things, unless it were allied with a far greater Power?"

  "Then hear me, Frost, Controller of the North," said Mordel. "I am allied with a Power which can do these things. I serve Divcom."

  Frost relayed this information to Solcom and received no response, which meant he might act in any manner he saw fit.

  "I have leave to destroy you, Mordel," he stated, "but it would be an illogical waste of the data which you possess. C
an you really do the things you have stated?"

  "Yes."

  "Then lay open to me the Library of Man."

  "Very well. There is, of course, a price."

  " 'Price'? What is a 'price'?"

  Mordel opened his turret, revealing another volume. Principles of Economics, it was called.

  "I will riffle the pages. Scan this book and you will know what the word 'price' means."

  Frost scanned Principles of Economics."I know now," he said. "You desire some unit or units of exchange for this service."

  "That is correct."

  "What product or service do you want?"

  "I want you, yourself, great Frost, to come away from here, far beneath the Earth, to employ all your powers in the service of Divcom."

  "For how long a period of time?"

  "For so long as you shall continue to function. For so long as you can transmit and receive, coordinate, men^ure, compute, scan, and utilize your powers as you do in the service of Solcom."

  Frost was silent. Mordel waited.

  Then Frost spoke again.

  "Principles of Economics talks of contracts, bargains, agreements," he said. "If I accept your offer, when would you want your price?"

  Then Mordel was silent. Frost waited.

  Finally, Mordel spoke.

  "A reasonable period of time," he said. "Say, a century?"

  "No," said Frost.

  "Two centuries?"

  "No."

  "Three? Four?"

  "No, and no."

  "A millenium, then? That should be more than sufficient time for anything you may want which I can give you."

  "No," said Frost.

  "How much time do you want?"

  "If is not a matter of time," said Frost.

  "What, then?"

  "I will not bargain on a temporal basis."

  "On what basis will you bargain?"

  "A functional one."

  "What do you mean? What function?" , "You, little machine, have told me, Frost, that I cannot be a Man," he said, "and I, Frost, told you, little machine, that you were wrong. I told you that given sufficient data, I could be a Man."

  "Yes?"

  "Therefore, let this achievement be a condition of the bargain.""In what way?"

  "Do for me all those things which you have stated you can do. I will evaluate all the data and achieve Manhood, or admit that it cannot be done. If I admit that it cannot be done. then I will go away with you from here, far beneath the Earth, to employ all my powers in the service of Divcom. If I succeed, of course, you have no claims on Man, nor power over Him."

  Mordel emitted a high-pitched whine as he considered the terms.

  "You wish to base it upon your admission of failure, rather than upon failure itself," he said. "There can be no such escape clause. You could fail and refuse to admit it, thereby not fulfilling your end of the bargain."

  "Not so." stated Frost. "My own knowledge of failure would constitute such an admission. You may monitor me periodically—say, every half-century—to see whether it is present, to see whether I have arrived at the conclusion that it cannot be done. I cannot prevent the function of logic within me, and I operate at full capacity at all times. If I conclude that I have failed, it will be apparent."

  High overhead, Soicom did not respond to any of Frost's transmissions, which meant that Frost was free to act as he chose. So as Soicom—like a falling sapphire— sped above the rainbow banners of the Northern Lights, over the snow that was white, containing all colors, and through the sky that was black among the stars. Frost concluded his pact with Divcom, transcribed it within a plate of atomically-collapsed copper, and gave it into the turret of Mordel, who departed to deliver it to Divcom far below the Earth, leaving behind the sheer, peace-like silence of the Pole, rolling.

  Mordel brought the books, rimed them, took them back.

  Load by load, the surviving Library of Man passed beneath Frost's scanner. Frost was eager to have them all. and he complained because Divcom would not transmit their content?, directly to him. Mordel explained that it was because Divcom chose to do it that way. Frost decided it was so that he could not obtain a precise fix on Divcom's location.

  Still, at the rate of one hundred to one hundred-fiftyvolumes a week, it took Frost only a little over a century to exhaust Divcom's supply of books.

  At the end of the half-century, he laid himself open to monitoring and there was no conclusion of failure.

  During this time, Soicom made no comment upon the course of affairs. Frost decided this was not a matter of unawareness, but one of waiting. For what? He was not certain.

  There was the day Mordel closed his turret and said to him, "Those were the last. You have scanned all the existing books of Man."

  "So few?" asked Frost. "Many of them contained bibliographies of books I have not yet scanned."

  'Then those books no longer exist," said Mordel. "It is only by accident that my master succeeded in preserving as many as there are."

  "Then there is nothing more to be learned of Man from His books. What else have you?"

  "There were some films and tapes," said Mordel, "which my master transferred 'to solid-state record. I could bring you those for viewing."

  "Bring them," said Frost.

  Mordel departed and returned with the Complete Drama Critics' Living Library. This could not be speeded-up beyond twice natural lime, so it took Frost a little over six months to view it in its entirety.

  Then, "What else have you?" he asked.

  "Some artifacts," said Mordel.

  "Bring them."

  He returned with pots and pans, gameboards and hand tools. He brought hairbrushes, combs, eyeglasses, human clothing. He showed Frost facsimiles of blueprints, paintings, newspapers, magazines, letters, and the scores of several pieces of music. He displayed a football, a baseball, a Browning automatic rifle, a doorknob, a chain of keys, the tops to several Mason jars, a model beehive. He played him recorded music.

  Then he returned with nothing.

  "Bring me more," said Frost.

  "Alas, great Frost, there is no more," he told him. "You have scanned it all."

  "Then go away."

  "Do you admit now that it cannot be done, that you cannot be a Man?""No. I have much processing and formulating to do now. Go away."

  So he did.

  A year passed; then two, then three.

  After five years, Mordel appeared once more upon the horizon, approached, came to a halt before Frost's southern surface.

  "Mighty Frost?"

  "Yes?" .

  "Have you finished processing and formulating?"

  "No."

  "Will you finish soon?"

  "Perhaps. Perhaps not. When is 'soon?* Define the term."

  "Never mind. Do you still think it can be done?"

  "I still know / can do it." ; There was a week of silence.

  Then, "Frost?"

  "Yes?"

  "You are a fool."

  Mordel faced his turret in the direction from which he had come. His wheels turned.

  "I will call you when I want you," said Frost.

  Mordel sped away.

  Weeks passed, months passed, a year went by.

  Then one day Frost sent forth his message:

  "Mordel, come to me. I need you."

  When Mordel arrived. Frost did not wait for a saluta- ^ tion. He said, "You are not a very fast machine." U

  "Alas, but I came a great distance, mighty Frost. X ' sped all the way. Are you ready to come back with me now? Have you failed?" "When I have failed, little Mordel," said Frost, "I will tell you.

  Therefore, refrain from the constant use of the interrogative. Now then, I have clocked your speed and it is not so great as it could be. For this reason, I have arranged other means of transportation."

  "Transportation? To where, Frost?" • ^ ^;

  "That is for you to tell me," said Frost, and his color ,?,; changed from silverblue to sun-behind-the-cl
ouds-yellow. ^, Mordel rolled back away from him as the ice of a - hundred centuries began to melt. Then Frost rose upon a -l',^cushion of air and drifted toward Mordel, his glow gradually fading.

  A cavity appeared within his southern surface, from which he slowly extended a runway until it touched the ice.

  "On the day of our bargain," he stated, "you said that you could conduct me about the world and show me the things which delighted Man. My speed will be greater than yours would be, so I have prepared for you a chamber. Enter it, and conduct me to the places of which you spoke."

  Mordel waited, emitting a high-pitched whine. Then, "Very well," he said. and entered, The chamber closed about him. The only opening was a quariz window Frost had formed.

  Mordel gave him coordinates and they rose into the air and departed the North Pole of the Earth.

  "I monitored your communication with Divcom," he said, "wherein there was conjecture as to whether I would retain you and send forth a facsimile in your place as a spy.Jollowed by the decision that you were expendable."

  *'Will you do this thing?"

  "No, I will keep my end of the bargain if I must. I have no reason to spy on Divcom."

  "You are aware that you would be forced to keep your end of the bargain even if you did not wish to; and Solcom would not come to your assistance because of the fact that you dared to make such a bargain."

  "Do you speak as one who considers this to be a possibility. or as one who knows?"

  "As one who knows."

  They came to rest in the place once known as California. The time was near sunset. In the distance, the surf struck steadily upon the rocky shoreline. Frost released Mordel and considered his surroundings.

  "Those large plants ... ?"

  "Redwood trees."

  "And the green ones are ... ?"

  "Grass."

  "Yes- it is as I thought. Why have we come here?"

  "Because it is a place which once delighted Man."

  "In whal ways?"

  "It is scenic, beautiful... .""Oh."

  A humming sound began within Frost, followed by a series of sharp clicks.

  "What are you doing?"

  Frost dilated an opening, and two great eyes regarded Mordel from within it.

  "What are those?"

  "Eyes," said Frost. "I have constructed analogues of the human sensory equipment, so that I may see and smell and taste and hear like a Man. Now, direct my attention to an object or objects of beauty."