For a Breath I Tarry

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 swiveled 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 visited 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 Beta-Machine. '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 still 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 designed, 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 Divcom'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.'