'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 you 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, Solcom did not respond to any of Frost's transmissions, which meant that Frost was free to act as he chose. So as Solcom—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, riffled 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 contents 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-fifty volumes 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 their was no conclusion of failure.
During this time, Solcom 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 time, 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 the 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
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 salutation. He said, 'You are not a very fast machine.'
'Alas, but I came a great distance, mighty Frost. I 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 silver-blue to sun-behind-the-clouds- yellow.
Mordel rolled back away from him as the ice of a hundred centuries began to melt. Then Frost rose upon a 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 quartz 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, followed 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.'
