For a Breath I Tarry

'The senses do not make a Man,' said Mordel. 'There have been many creatures possessing His sensory equivalents, but they were not Men.'

'I know that,' said Frost. 'On the day of our bargain you said that you could conduct me among the wonders of Man which still remain, hidden. Man was not stimulated only by Nature, but by His own artistic elaborations as well—perhaps even more so. Therefore, I call upon you now to conduct me among the wonders of Man which still remain, hidden.'

'Very well,' said Mordel. 'Far from here, high in the Andes mountains, lies the last retreat of Man, almost perfectly preserved.'

Frost had risen into the air as Mordel spoke. He halted then, hovered.

'That is in the southern hemisphere,' he said.

'Yes, it is.'

'I am Controller of the North. The South is governed by the Beta-Machine.'

'So?' asked Mordel.

'The Beta-Machine is my peer. I have no authority in those regions, nor leave to enter there.'

'The Beta-Machine is not your peer, mighty Frost. If it ever came to a contest of Powers, you would emerge victorious.'

'How do you know this?'

'Divcom has already analyzed the possible encounters which could take place between you.'

'I would not oppose the Beta-Machine, and I am not authorized to enter the South.'

'Were you ever ordered not to enter the South?'

'No, but things have always been the way they now are.'

'Were you authorized to enter into a bargain such as the one you made with Divcom?'

'No, I was not. But—'

'Then enter the South in the same spirit. Nothing may come of it. If you receive an order to depart, then you can make your decision.'

'I see no flaw in your logic. Give me the coordinates.'

Thus did Frost enter the southern hemisphere.

They drifted high above the Andes, until they came to the place called Bright Defile. Then did Frost see the gleaming webs of the mechanical spiders, blocking all the trails to the city.

'We can go above them easily enough,' said Mordel.

'But what are they?' asked Frost. 'And why are they there?'

'Your southern counterpart has been ordered to quarantine this part of the country. The Beta-Machine designed the web-weavers to do this thing.'

'Quarantine? Against whom?'

'Have you been ordered yet to depart?' asked Mordel.

'No.'

'Then enter boldly, and seek not problems before they arise.'

Frost entered Bright Defile, the last remaining city of dead Man.

He came to rest in the city's square and opened his chamber, releasing Mordel.

'Tell me of this place,' he said, studying the monument, the low, shielded buildings, the roads which followed the contours of the terrain, rather than pushing their way through them.

'I have never been here before,' said Mordel, 'nor have any of Divcom's creations, to my knowledge. I know but this: a group of Men, knowing that the last days of civilization had come upon them, retreated to this place, hoping to preserve themselves and what remained of their culture through the Dark Times.'

Frost read the still-legible inscription upon the monument: 'Judgment Day Is Not a Thing Which Can Be Put Off.' The monument itself consisted of a jag-edged half-globe.

'Let us explore,' he said.

But before he had gone far, Frost received the message.

'Hail Frost, Controller of the North! This is the Beta-Machine.'

'Greetings, Excellent Beta-Machine, Controller of the South! Frost acknowledges your transmission.'

'Why do you visit my hemisphere unauthorized?'

'To view the ruins of Bright Defile,' said Frost.

'I must bid you depart into your own hemisphere.'

'Why is that? I have done no damage.'

'I am aware of that, mighty Frost. Yet, I am moved to bid you depart.'

'I shall require a reason.'

'Solcom has so disposed.'

'Solcom has rendered me no such disposition.'

'Solcom has, however, instructed me to so inform you.'

'Wait on me. I shall request instructions.'

Frost transmitted his question. He received no reply.

'Solcom still has not commanded me, though I have solicited orders.'

'Yet Solcom has just renewed my orders.'

'Excellent Beta-Machine, I receive my orders only from Solcom.'

'Yet this is my territory, mighty Frost, and I, too, take orders only from Solcom. You must depart.'

Mordel emerged from a large, low building and rolled up to Frost.

'I have found an art gallery, in good condition. This way.'

'Wait,' said Frost. 'We are not wanted here.'

Mordel halted.

'Who bids you depart?'

'The Beta-Machine.'

'Not Solcom?'

'Not Solcom.'

'Then let us view the gallery.'

'Yes.'

Frost widened the doorway of the building and passed within. It had been hermetically sealed until Mordel forced his entrance.

Frost viewed the objects displayed about him. He activated his new sensory apparatus before the paintings and statues. He analyzed colors, forms, brushwork, the nature of the materials used.

'Anything?' asked Mordel.

'No,' said Frost. 'No, there is nothing there but shapes and pigments. There is nothing else there.'

Frost moved about the gallery, recording everything, analyzing the components of each piece, recording the dimensions, the type of stone used in every statue.

Then there came a sound, a rapid, clicking sound, repeated over and over, growing louder, coming nearer.

'They are coming,' said Mordel, from beside the entranceway, 'the mechanical spiders. They are all around us.'

Frost moved back to the widened opening.

Hundreds of them, about half the size of Mordel, had surrounded the gallery and were advancing; and more were coming from every direction.

'Get back,' Frost ordered. 'I am Controller of the North, and I bid you withdraw.'

They continued to advance.

'This is the South,' said the Beta-Machine, 'and I am in command.'

'Then command them to half,' said Frost.

'I take orders only from Solcom.'

Frost emerged from the gallery and rose into the air. He opened the compartment and extended a runway.

'Come to me, Mordel. We shall depart.'

Webs began to fall: Clinging, metallic webs, cast from the top of the building.