'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 what 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.'

'As I understand it, it is all around you here,' said Mordel.

The purring noise increased within Frost, followed by more clickings.

'What do you see, hear, taste, smell?' asked Mordel.

'Everything I did before,' replied Frost, 'but within a more limited range.'

'You do not perceive any beauty?'

'Perhaps none remains after so long a time,' said Frost.

'It is not supposed to be the sort of thing which gets used up,' said Mordel.

'Perhaps we have come to the wrong place to test the new equipment. Perhaps there is only a little beauty and I am overlooking it somehow. The first emotions may be too weak to detect.'

'How do you—feel?'

'I test out at a normal level of function.'

'Here comes a sunset,' said Mordel. 'Try that.'

Frost shifted his bulk so that his eyes faced the setting sun. He caused them to blink against the brightness.

After it was finished, Mordel asked, 'What was it like?'

'Like a sunrise, in reverse.'

'Nothing special?'

'No.'

'Oh,' said Mordel. 'We could move to another part of the Earth and watch it again—or watch it in the rising.'

'No.'

Frost looked at the great trees. He looked at the shadows. He listened to the wind and to the sound of a bird.

In the distance, he heard a steady clanking noise.

'What is that?' asked Mordel.

'I am not certain. It is not one of my workers. Perhaps…'

There came a shrill whine from Mordel.

'No, it is not one of Divcom's either.'

They waited as the sound grew louder.

Then Frost said, 'It is too late. We must wait and hear it out.'

'What is it?'

'It is the Ancient Ore-Crusher.'

'I have heard of it, but…'

'I am the Crusher of Ores,' it broadcast to them. 'Hear my story…'

It lumbered toward them, creaking upon gigantic wheels, its huge hammer held useless, high, at a twisted angle. Bones protruded from its crush-compartment.

'I did not mean to do it,' it broadcast, 'I did not mean to do it… I did not mean to…'

Mordel rolled back toward Frost.

'Do not depart. Stay and hear my story…'

Mordel stopped, swiveled his turret back toward the machine. It was now quite near.

'It is true,' said Mordel, 'it can command.'

'Yes,' said Frost. 'I have monitored its tale thousands of times, as it came upon my workers and they stopped their labors for its broadcast. You must do whatever it says.'

It came to a halt before them.

'I did not mean to do it, but I checked my hammer too late,' said the Ore-Crusher.

They could not speak to it. They were frozen by the imperative which overrode all other directives: 'Hear my story.'

'Once was I mighty among ore-crushers,' it told them, 'built by Solcom to carry out the reconstruction of the Earth, to pulverize that from which the metals would be drawn with flame, to be poured and shaped into the rebuilding; once I was mighty. Then one day as I dug and crushed, dug and crushed, because of the slowness between the motion implied and the motion executed, I did what I did not mean to do, and was cast forth by Solcom from out the rebuilding, to wander the Earth never to crush ore again. Hear my story of how, on a day long gone, I came upon the last Man on Earth as I dug near his burrow, and because of the lag between the directive and the deed, I seized Him into my crush-compartment along with a load of ore and crushed Him with my hammer before I could stay the blow. Then did mighty Solcom charge me to bear His bones forever, and cast me forth to tell my story to all whom I came upon, my words bearing the force of the words of a Man, because I carry the last Man inside my crush-compartment and am His crushed-symbol-slayer-ancient-teller-of-how. This is my story. These are His bones. I crushed the last Man on Earth. I did not mean to do it.'

It turned then and clanked away into the night.

Frost tore apart his ears and nose and taster and broke his eyes and cast them down upon the ground.

'I am not yet a Man,' he said. 'That one would have known me if I were.'

Frost constructed new sense equipment, employing organic and semi-organic conductors. Then he spoke to Mordel:

'Let us go elsewhere, that I may test my new equipment.'

Mordel entered the chamber and gave new coordinates. They rose into the air and headed east. In the morning, Frost monitored a sunrise from the rim of the Grand Canyon. They passed down through the Canyon during the day.

'Is there any beauty left here to give you emotion?' asked Mordel.

'I do not know,' said Frost.

'How will you know it then, when you come upon it?'

'It will be different,' said Frost, 'from anything else that I have ever known.'

Then they departed the Grand Canyon and made their way through the Carlsbad Caverns. They visited a lake which had once been a volcano. They passed above Niagara Falls. They viewed the hills of Virginia and the orchards of Ohio. They soared above the reconstructed cities, alive only with the movements of Frost's builders and maintainers.

'Something is still lacking,' said Frost, settling to the ground. 'I am now capable of gathering data in a manner analogous to Man's afferent impulses. The variety of input is therefore equivalent, but the results are not the same.'

Вы читаете For a Breath I Tarry
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