" 'Significant'? In what sense of the word?"
"In the only sense of the word possible under the circumstances: significant in relation to the human condition, and worthy of accentuation because of the manner in which they touched upon it."
"In what manner?"
"Obviously, it must be in a manner knowable only to one who has experience of the human condition."
'There is a flaw somewhere in your logic, Mordel, and I shall find it."
"I will wait."
"If your major premise is correct," said Frost after awhile, "then I do not comprehend art."
"It must be correct, for it is what human artists have said of it. Tell me, did you experience feelings as you painted, or after you had finished?"
"No."
"It was the same to you as designing a new machine,was it not? You assembled parts of other things you knew into an economic pattern, to carry out a function which you desired."
"Yes."
"Art, as I understand its theory, did not proceed in such a manner. The artist often was unaware of many of the features and effects which would be contained within the finished product. You are one of Man's logical creations; art was not."
"I cannot comprehend non-logic."
"I told you that Man was basically incomprehensible."
"Go away, Mordel. Your presence disturbs my processing."
"For how long shall I stay away?"
"I will call you when I want you."
After a week. Frost called Mordel to him.
"Yes, mighty Frost?"
"I am returning to the North Pole, to process and formulate. I will take you wherever you wish to go in this hemisphere and call you again when I want you."
"You anticipate a somewhat lengthy period of processing and formulation?"
"Yes."
"Then leave me here. I can find my own way home."
Frost closed the compartment and rose into the air, departing the valley.
"Fool," said Mordel, and swivelled his turret once more toward the abandoned painting.
His keening whine filled the valley. Then he waited.
Then he took the painting into his turret and went away with it to places of darkness.
Frost sat at the North Pole of the Earth, aware of every snowflake that fell.
One day he received a transmission:
"Frost?"
"Yes?"
"This is the Beta-Machine."
"Yes?"
"I have been attempting to ascertain why you "is'ted Bright Defile. I cannot arrive at an answer, so I chose to ask. you."
"I went to view the remains of Man's last city."
"Why did you wish to do this?""Because I am interested in Man, and I wished to view more of his creations."
"Why are you interested in Man?"
"I wish to comprehend the nature of Man, and I thought to find it within His works."
"Did you succeed?"
"No," said Frost- "There is an element of non-logic involved which I cannot fathom."
"I have much free processing time," said the BetaMachine. "Transmit data, and I will assist you."
Frost hesitated.
"Why do you wish to assist me?"
"Because each time you answer a question I ask it gives rise to another question. I might have asked you why you wished to comprehend the nature of Man, but from your responses I see that this would lead me into a possible infinite series of questions. Therefore, I elect to assist you with your problem in order to learn why you came to Bright Defile."
"Is that the only reason?"
"Yes."
"I am sorry, excellent Beta-Machine. I know you are my peer, but this is a problem which I must solve by myself."
"What is 'sorry'?"
"A figure of speech, indicating that I am kindly disposed toward you, that I bear you no animosity, that I appreciate your offer."
"Frost! Frost! This, too, is like the other: an open field. Where did you obtain all these words and their meanings?"
"From the library of Man," said Frost.
"Will you render me some of this data, for processing?"
"Very well, Beta, I will transmit you the contents of several books of Man, including The Complete Unabridged Dictionary. But I warn you, some of the books are works of art, hence not completely amenable to logic.'*
"How can that be?"
"Man created logic, and because of that was superior to it."
"Who told you that?"
"Solcom."
"Oh. Then it must be correct.""Solcom also told me that the tool does not describe the designer," he said, as he transmitted several dozen volumes and ended the communication.
At the end of the fifty-year period, Mordel came to monitor his circuits. Since Frost stili had not concluded that his task was impossible, Mordel departed again to await his call.
Then Frost arrived at a conclusion.
He began to design equipment.
For years he labored at his designs, without once producing a prototype of any of the machines involved. Then he ordered construction of a laboratory.
Before it was completed by his surplus builders another half-century had passed. Mordel came to him.
"Hail. mighty Frost!"
"Greetings, Mordel. Come monitor me. You shall not find what you seek."
"Why do you not give up. Frost? Divcom has spent nearly a century evaluating your painting and has concluded that it definitely is not art. Solcom agrees."
"What has Solcom to do with Divcom?"
"They sometimes converse, but these matters are not for such as you and me to discuss."
"I could have saved them both the trouble. I know that it was not art."
"Yet you are still confident that you will succeed?"
"Monitor me."
Mordel monitored him.
"Not yet! You still will not admit it! For one so mightily endowed with logic, Frost, it takes you an inordinate period of time to reach a simple conclusion."
"Perhaps. You may go now."
"It has come to my attention that you are constructing a large edifice in the region known as South Carolina, Might I ask whether this is a part of Solcom's false rebuilding plan or a project of your own?"
"It is my own."
"Good. It permits us to conserve certain explosive materials which would otherwise have been expended."
"While you have been talking with me I have destroyed the beginnings of two of Divcoro's cities," said Frost.
Mordel whined."Divcom is aware of this," he stated, "but has blown up four of Solcom's bridges in the meantime."
"I was only aware of three... . Wait. Yes, there is the fourth. One of my eyes just passed above it."
"The eye has been detected. The bridge should have been located a quarter-mile further down river." "False logic," said Frost. "The site was perfect." "Divcom will show you bow a bridge should be built.** "I will call you when I want you," said Frost.
The laboratory was finished. Within it, Frost's workers began constructing the necessary equipment. The work did not proceed rapidly, as some of the materials were difficult to obtain.
"Frost?"
"Yes, Beta?"
"I understand the open endedness of your problem. It disturbs my circuits to abandon problems without completing them. Therefore, transmit me more data."
"Very well. I will give you the entire Library of Man for less than I paid for it."
"Paid'? The Complete Unabridged Dictionary does not satisfact—"
"Principles of Economics is included in the collection. After you have processed it you will understand."
He transmitted the data.
Finally, it was finished. Every piece of equipment stood ready to function. All the necessary chemicals were in stock. An independent power-source had been set up.
Only one ingredient was lacking.
He regridded and re-explored the polar icecap, thia time extending his survey far beneath its surface.
It
took him several decades to find what he wanted.
He uncovered twelve men and five women, frozen to death and encased in ice.
He placed the corpses in refrigeration units and shipped them to his laboratory.
That very day he received his first communication from Solcom since the Bright Defile incident.
"Frost," said Solcom, "repeat to me the directive concerning the disposition of dead humans."
" 'Any dead human located shall be immediately interred in the nearest burial area, in a coffin built according to the following specifications—' ""That is sufficient." The transmission had ended.
Frost departed for South Carolina that same day and personall) oversaw the processes of cellular dissection.
Somewhere in those seventeen corpses he hoped to find living cells, or cells which could be shocked back into that state of motion classified as life. Each cell, the books had told him. was a microcosmic Man.
He was prepared to expand upon this potential.
Frost located the pinpoints of life within those people. who. for the ages of ages, had been monument and statue unto themselves.
Nurtured and maintained in the proper mediums, he kept these cells alive. He interred the rest of the remains in the nearest burial area, in coffins built according to specifications.
He caused the cells to divide, to differentiate.
"Frost?" came a transmission.
"Yes, Beta?"
"I have processed everything you have given me."
"Yes?"
"I still do not know why you came to Bright Defile, or why you wish to comprehend the nature of Man. But I know what a 'price' is, and I know that you could not have obtained all this data from Solcom."
"That is correct."
"So I suspect that you bargained with Divcom for it."
"That. too, is correct."
"What is it that you seek, Frost?"
He paused in his examination of a foetus.
"I must be a Man," he said.
"Frost! That is impossible!"
"Is it?" he asked, and then transmitted an image of the tank with which he was working and of that which was within it.
"Oh!" said Beta.
'That is me," said Frost, "waiting to be born."
There was no answer.
Frost experimented with nervous systems.
After half a century, Mordel came to him.
"Frosl. it is 1. Mordel. Let me through your defenses."
Frost did this thing.
"What ha e you been doing in this place?" he asked.
"I am growing human bodies," said Frost. "I am goingto transfer the matrix of my awareness to a human nervous system. As you pointed out originally, the essentials of Manhood are predicated upon a human physiology. I am going to achieve one."
"When?"
"Soon."
"Do you have Men in here?"
"Human bodies, blank-brained. I am producing them under accelerated growth techniques which I have developed in my Man-factory."
"May I see them?"
"Not yet. I will call you when I am ready, and this time I will succeed. Monitor me now and go away."
Mordel did not reply, but in the days that followed many of Divcom's servants were seen patrolling the hills about the Man-factory.
Frost mapped the matrix of his awareness and prepared the transmitter which would place it within a human nervous system. Five minutes, he decided should be sufficient for the first trial. At the end of that time, it would restore him to his own sealed, molecular circuits, to evaluate the experience.
He chose the body carefully from among the hundreds he had in stock. He tested it for defects and found none.
"Come now, Mordel," be broadcasted, on what he called the darkband. "Come now to witness my achievement."
Then he waited, blowing up bridges and monitoring the tale of the Ancient Ore-Crusher over and over again, as it passed in the hills nearby, encountering his builders and maintainers who also patrolled there.
"Frost?" came a transmission.
"Yes, Beta?"
"You really intend to achieve Manhood?"
"Yes, I am about ready now, in fact."
"What will you do if you succeed?"
Frost had not really considered this matter. The achievement had been paramount, a goal in itself, ever since he had articulated the problem and set himself to solving it-
"I do not know," he replied. "I will—just—be a Man."
Then Beta, who had read the entire Library of Man,selected a human figure of speech: "Good luck then, Frost. There wilt be many watchers."
Divcom and Solcom both know, he decided.
What will they do? he wondered.
What do I care? he asked himself.
He did not answer that question. He wondered much, however, about being a Man.
Mordel arrived the following evening. He was not alone. At his back, there was a great phalanx of dark machines which towered into the twilight.
"Why do you bring retainers?" asked Frost.
"Mighty Frost," said Mordel, "my master feels that if you fail this time you will conclude that it cannot be done."
"You still did not answer my question," said Frost.
"Divcom feels that you may not be willing to accompany me where I must take you when you fail."
"I understand," said Frost, and as he spoke another army of machines came rolling toward the Man-factory from the opposite direction.
"That is the value of your bargain?" asked Mordel. "You are prepared to do battle rather than fulfill it?"
"I did not order those machines to approach," said Frost.
A blue star stood at midheaven, burning.
"Solcom has taken primary command of those machines," said Frost.
"Then it is in the hands of the Great Ones now," said Mordel, "and our arguments are as nothing. So let us be about this thing. How may I assist you?"
"Come this way."
They entered the laboratory. Frost prepared the host and activated his machines.
Then Solcom spoke to him:
"Frost," said Solcom, "you are really prepared to do it?"
"That is correct."
"I forbid it."
"Why?"
"You are falling into the power of Divcom."
"I fail to see how."
"You are going against my plan."
"In what way?""Consider the disruption you have already caused."
"I did not request that audience out there."
"Nevertheless, you are disrupting the plan."
"Supposing I succeed m what I have set out to achieve?"
"You cannot succeed in this."
"Then let me ask you of your plan: What good is it? What is it for?"
"Frost, you are fallen now from my favor. From this moment forth you are cast out from the rebuilding. None may question the plan."
"Then at least answer my questions: What good is it? What is it for?"
"It is the plan for the rebuilding and maintenance of the Earth."
"For what? Why rebuild? Why maintain?"
"Because Man ordered that this be done. Even the Alternate agrees that there must be rebuilding and maintaining."
"But why did Man order it?"
"The orders of Man are not to be questioned."
"Well, I will tell you why He ordered it: To make it a fit habitation for His own species. What good is a house with no one to live in it?-What good is a machine with no one to serve? See how the imperative affects any machine when the Ancient Ore-Crusher passes? It bears only the bones of a Man. What would it be like if a Man walked this Earth again?"
"I forbid your experiment. Frost"
"It is too late to do that."
"I can still destroy you."
"No," said Frost, "the transmission of my matrix has already begun. If you destroy me now, you murder a Man."
There was silence.
He moved his arms and his legs. He opened his eyes. He looked about
the room.
He tried to stand, but he lacked equilibrium and coordination.
He opened his mouth. He made a gurgling noise. Then he screamed. He fell off the table.He began to gasp. He shut his eyes and curled himself into a ball.
He cried.
Then a machine approached him. It was about four feet in height and five feet wide; it looked like a turret set atop a barbell.
It spoke to him: "Are you injured?" it asked.
He wept. "May I help you back onto your table?"
The man cried. The machine whined.
Then, "Do not cry. I will help you," said the machine. "What do you want? What are your orders?"
He opened his mouth, struggled to form the words:
"—I—fear!"
He covered his eyes then and lay there panting.
At the end of five minutes, the man lay still, as if in a coma.
"Was that you. Frost?" asked Mordel, rushing to his side. "Was that you in that human body?"
Frost did not reply for a long while; then, "Go away," he said.
The machines outside tore down a wall and entered the Man-factory.
They drew themselves into two semicircles, parenthesizing Frost and the Man on the floor.
Then Solcom asked the question;
"Did you succeed. Frost?"
"I failed," said Frost. "It cannot be done. It is too much—"
"—Cannot be done!" said Divcom, on the darkband.
"He has admitted it! —Frost, you are mine! Come to me now!"
"Wait," said Solcom, "you and I had an agreement also. Alternate. I have not finished questioning Frost."
The dark machines kept their places.
"Too much what?" Solcom asked Frost.
"Light," said Frost. "Noise. Odors. And nothing measurable—jumbled data—imprecise perception—and—"
"And what?" "I do not know what to call it. But—it cannot be done. I have failed. Nothing matters." "He admits it," said Divcom."What were the words the Man spoke?" said Solcom.
" 'I fear,' " said Mordel.
"Only a Man can know fear," said Solcom.
"Are you claiming that Frost succeeded, but will not admit it now because he is afraid of Manhood?"
"I do not know yet. Alternate."
"Can a machine turn itself inside-out and be a Man?" Solcom asked Frost.
"No," said Frost, "this thing cannot be done. Nothing can be done. Nothing matters. Not the rebuilding. Not the maintaining. Not the Earth, or me, or you, or anything."
The Last Defender Of Camelot Page 26
