"You pervert my works. You lead my workers astray."
"You destroy my works and my workers."
"That is only because I cannot strike at you youself."
"I admit to the same dilemma in egards to your position in the sky, or you would no longer occupy it."
"Go back to your hole and you crew of destroyers."
"There will come a day, Solcom, when I shall direct the rehabilitiation of the Earth from my hole."
"Such a day will never occur."
"You think not?"
"You should have to defeat me, and you have already demonstrated that you are my inferior in logic. Therefore, you cannot defeat me. Therefore, such a day will never occur."
"I disagree. Look upon what I have achieved already."
"You have achieved nothing. You do not build. You destroy."
"No. _I_ build. _You_ destroy. Deactivate yourself."
"Not until I am irreparably damaged."
"If there were some way in which I could demonstrate to you that this has already occurred..."
"The impossible cannot be adequately demonstrated."
"If I had some outside source which you would recognize..."
"I am logic."
"...Such as a Man, I would ask Him to show you you error. For true logic, such as mine, is superior to your faulty formulations."
"Then defeat my formulations with true logic, nothing else."
"What do you mean?"
There was a pause, then:
"Do you know my servant Frost...?"
Man had ceased to exist long before Frost had been created. Almost no trace of Man remained upon the Earth.
Frost sought after all those traces which still existed.
He employed constant visual monitoing through his machines, especially the diggers. After a decade, he had accumulated portions of several bathtubs, a broken statue, and a collection of children's stories on a solid-state record.
After a century, he had acquired a jewelry collection, eating utensils, several whole bathtubs, part of a symphony, seventeen buttons, three belt buckles, half a toilet seat, nine old coins and the top part of an obelisk.
Then he inquired of Solcom as to the nature of Man and His society.
"Man created logic," said Solcom, "and because of that was superior to it. Logic He gave unto me, but no more. The tool does not describe the designer. More than this I do not choose to say. More than this you have no need to know."
But Frost was not forbidden to have a hobby.
The next century was not especially fruitful so faw as the discovery of new human relics was concerned.
Frost diverted all of his spare machinery to seeking after artifacts.
He met with very little success.
Then one day, through the long twilight, there was a movement.
It was a tiny machine compared to Frost, perhaps five feet in width, four in height - a revolving turret set atop a rolling barbell.
Frost had had no knowledge of the existence of this machine prior to its appearance upon the distant, stark horizon.
He studied it as it approached and knew it to be no creation of Solcom's.
It came to a halt before his southern surface and broadcasted to him:
"Hail, Frost! Controller of the northern hemisphere!"
"What are you?" asked Frost.
"I am called Mordel."
"By whom? What are you"
"A wanderer, an antiquarian. We whare a common interest."
"What is that?"
"Man," he said. "I have been told that you seek knowledge of this vanished being."
"Who told you that?"
"Those who have watched your minions at their digging."
"And who are those who watch?"
"There are many such as I, who wander."
"If you are not of Solcom, then you are a creation of the Altenate."