#Electric Pole Digging Machine

[testormblog]

Dirty and Poor

I had little to amuse my inquisitive mind, a few homemade, wooden toys and the hammer I’d confiscated from Dad. Some children like to bang pots and pans; I loved to bang the hammer, mostly on the nails popping up from the old house’s floorboards. The noise let Mother know where I was playing. At first, I bruised my small fingers. With practice, my aim with the hammer became proficient unlike Dad’s.

There weren’t other children to play with. The yard dog, Woolie, black with curly fur, kept me company instead. The dog was so large that I could sit on its back. Together, we observed the comings and goings in our surroundings, in particular the trains passing the house. The rail motor travelled back and forth from Bethania to Beaudesert twice daily. Steam engines hauled regular goods trains. The most exciting, noisy and smelly were the long cattle and horse trains, headed with two steam engines, going to the abattoir. I’d tell my dog everything. He always seemed interested until one day, Woolie became bored and wandered off. The dog was likely bitten by a snake. Time moved slowly with the same daily routine. Except one day, I heard a steam engine’s brakes.

I excitedly watched it stop on the line beside my house. Whilst I wasn’t allowed outside to investigate the unusual event, this was the best day in my life to date! Men offloaded wooden planks from the train’s freight wagons. This second hand timber had come from Camp Cable, the wartime American Army camp, several miles up the line, near Logan Village. Life became interesting. My family were building a house nearby and closer to Bethania Railway Station. My great uncle had transferred to my father a patch of land considered too small for dairy cows or commercial cropping. This triangle of land had been part of the farm established by my forebears before the railway line and the road had separated it. The military had occupied the land and its surrounds with a transit camp. Bethania had been the intersection point for trains transporting troops to the Canungra Jungle Training Camp and Camp Cable.

Pop, an uncle and a neighbour built the cottage where the military’s tents and mess huts had been. Dad wasn’t skilled in carpentry. The simple home had one bedroom, a sitting room, a kitchen, a front veranda and a bathroom with an open wash house and a thunderbox outside. I slept in a cot tucked behind the bedroom cupboard.

As it was in a rural area, the cottage received no rubbish collection, sewerage or water supply services. Rubbish and effluent weren’t an issue. These were buried when Dad showed the inclination. Maintaining sufficient water in the two small tanks for household use and the vegetable garden was an issue. We were dependent on rainfall. Even then, the high tank had to be over half full for enough water pressure to exist for the bathroom and kitchen taps to flow. Mostly, water was dispensed by bucket. I was bathed once a week, and only if I looked sufficiently dirty, in no more than an inch of water in the bath tub. As I didn’t own a toy boat, I didn’t mind.

The cottage did have electricity for lights and three power points for the fridge and sewing machine in the kitchen and the small radio in the sitting room. Dad installed the power pole near the cottage. He purchased a milled log from the sawmiller. Then, he and his mates met, because that was the only labour available, to dig by shovel a large hole in which to stand the pole. At one metre deep, the men hit hard rock. Whilst they didn’t think the hole to be deep enough, they still positioned and raised the pole. For years after, Dad prayed the pole wouldn’t topple on the house in vicious wind. It held until the electricity company replaced it.

A wood stove sat in the kitchen. Finding wood was a chore and a cost most families struggled with. My father fed the stove with used railway sleepers his maintenance gang shared amongst themselves.

Outside, Dad constructed a fowl house from old tanks, sleepers and wire and dug a garden to support the family with eggs, meat and vegetables.

The primitive house met my biggest wish. The rail track ran along the backyard’s fence line! I loved waving at the passengers and guards. Sometimes, I watched Dad banging the spikes along the track.

I was far happier outside, away from Mother’s sight. In addition to the ambience her temperament created, inside the cottage was a horrid place to be. Mother hated housework. We lived in the continual squalor of dirty dishes, clothes, floors and fireplace. The beds weren’t made. The ‘night water’ wasn’t always taken outside early in the morning.

Mother presented a different face outside the cottage however. She was immaculately dressed as a walking advertisement for her dressmaking skills. She was a seamstress and a busy one. Initially, she received her clients in the sitting room but soon a small room was added to the veranda to keep clients away from the squalor. At one point, she started a dressmaking shop with a friend in Beenleigh. Their venture failed quickly as neither understood how to manage a business’ finances.

Money regularly created tension between my parents. There was father’s, mother’s and the housekeeping. Dad handed over the agreed housekeeping from his wage to pay the bills. There never seemed to be enough though. Appliances had been purchased on high interest hire purchase plans. Whatever Mother earnt from sewing appeared to be hers to spend how she wished, usually on more clothes for herself. Dad wasted what remained of his wage on race horses and alcohol. Their financial struggle was a circular form of hell that they couldn’t escape from, precipitated by their inability to work together. Whilst they didn’t physically abuse each other, verbally they did.

[pascojcb]

JCB excavators dealers in Delhi are helping to bring electricity to rural areas by digging trenches for power lines and setting up electrical equipment. They clear the ground where power stations or electrical poles need to be built. Excavators and backhoe loaders make it easier to lay cables and install electrical systems. This means that rural areas can get access to electricity, which is important for lighting, cooking, and running appliances.

[sumppumppros]

Sump Pump Replacement

ump Pumps 101: Understanding The Basics And Benefits

Welcome to the world of sump pumps! If you're here, chances are you want to know more about what a sump pump is and how it can benefit your home or business. You've come to the right place - I'm an expert in all things related to sump pumps and I'd love nothing more than to share my knowledge with you so that you can make informed decisions on which type of sump pump will best suit your needs.

In this guide, we'll cover all the basics from understanding why they're used in the first place, to exploring different types of pumps and their features. We'll also discuss installation tips that will help ensure your pump works properly for years to come. Plus, we'll touch on some frequently asked questions regarding maintenance and troubleshooting.

By the time you finish reading this article, there won't be much left when it comes to sump pumps that you don't already know. So let's jump right into our 101 course; buckle up because there's plenty of ground (or basement!) to cover!

## Definition

A sump pump is a vital piece of equipment that can help protect your home from water damage. Delving into the definition, it's important to understand what sump pumps are and why they're so essential. Start with this simple yet insightful sump pump explanation: A sump pump is an electric-powered device that removes unwanted groundwater or surface water away from areas like basements, crawlspaces and other low-lying spots in buildings. It collects excess liquid and then pumps it out through a discharge pipe. The primary purpose of these machines is to prevent flooding and structural damage due to high levels of moisture accumulation. By understanding the meaning behind this description and comprehending the potential benefits of having one installed, homeowners have the power to safeguard their dwellings against further destruction. With knowledge comes confidence - so let's dig deeper into the types of sump pumps available.

## Types Of Sump Pumps

Now that we have a better understanding of what sump pumps are and what they do, let's take a look at the different types available.

The three main types of sump pumps are submersible, pedestal, and battery-powered. Submersible sump pumps are designed to be placed inside the sump pit itself - usually submerged in water or other liquid - and then plugged into an electrical outlet for power. Pedestal models work similarly but instead sit atop the pit on a long metal pole with their motor outside the basin. Finally, battery-powered units draw energy from one or more batteries stored separately from the pump itself and can often be used during a power outage when no alternative sources of electricity are available. Battery-backed up systems provide added protection against flooding when access to external electrical supply is not reliable.

These three types come with various features depending on your needs; some may include automatic switches which turn them off once the water level has dropped below a certain point while others may feature specialized sewage ejectors for dealing with wastewater from sinks, toilets, etc. Whatever type you choose, it’s important to make sure it meets local building codes before installation as well as read through any accompanying documentation in order to familiarize yourself with its operation requirements. With these tips in mind, you should now be well informed about the basics of sump pumps and ready to start exploring all that they offer!

## Components Of A Sump Pump System

Picture a sump pump system as an orchestra of components, each playing their own unique part. The conductor is the motor - its job is to power up the entire process and get all the players working together in harmony. Next comes the float, like a buoyant boat captain guiding everything in the right direction. Then there's the check valve which acts like a gatekeeper, keeping water from flowing back into your basement when it shouldn't be. Finally, there are two pipes: one for intake (the discharge pipe) and another for outflow (the discharge line). Together these pieces make up the complete sump pump picture.

How do they work? When excess water accumulates in your sump pit, the floating switch activates and signals to the motor that it's time to start pumping out water. This causes suction pressure within the discharge pipe which pulls water from inside your home and pumps it out through the discharge line. With this seamless operation, you can rest assured knowing that your home will stay dry no matter how much rain falls outside or how high groundwater levels rise near you!

Now that we've gone over what makes up a sump pump system and how it works, let's look at some important installation considerations...

## Installation Considerations

With the components of a sump pump system in place, it’s important to understand installation considerations. Installation is key when considering any sump-pump-installation, as proper placement and setup can make all the difference between a successful result or failure. Along with standard installation equipment such as wrenches and screwdrivers, there are several other factors to take into account for optimal performance.

The first step is finding the right location for your sump pump. Ideally you should choose a spot that not only has good drainage but also allows easy access to power sources if needed. You'll want to check for flood levels nearby so that the water level doesn't exceed what's safe for your area. Additionally, waterproofing measures may be necessary depending on where you live, especially in areas prone to flooding or heavy rains. This could include sealing around pipes and replacing insulation materials as needed.

Once everything is considered regarding placement and location, it's time to get down to installing your new sump pump system! Make sure you have a reliable power source set up before beginning the process. If possible, use an emergency generator in case of unexpected outages – having backup power can save a lot of hassle if anything goes wrong during installation or regular operation later on. With your power source taken care of, double check every connection point and each component one last time before powering up the unit and testing its functionality.

Now that your sump pump system is installed properly per manufacturer guidelines, it’s time to move onto maintenance requirements which ensure optimal performance over time…

## Maintenance Requirements

Maintaining your sump pump is essential for its longevity and performance. It's a crucial part of owning the appliance, but it doesn't have to be difficult or time-consuming. With just a few simple steps, you can ensure that your sump pump will keep working reliably:

* Pump Maintenance Requirements:

* Regularly maintain your pump by checking it regularly for any signs of wear and tear, as well as ensuring all parts are connected securely and firmly in place.

* Refer to the manufacturer’s manual for specific maintenance requirements and schedule.

Taking these measures helps protect against any potential malfunctions which could result in costly repairs or replacement down the line. Plus, regular upkeep also ensures that your sump pump runs at peak efficiency - conserving energy while continuing to effectively do its job.

To make sure everything stays running smoothly, here are some helpful tips on how to properly maintain your sump pump: inspect hoses and pipes for any cracks or blockages; clean out sediment build-up from around the suction chamber; check valves for proper operation; lubricate moving parts; test run the motor once every two months; replace worn out components with genuine parts when needed. All of these tasks should take no more than an hour each year - making them easy enough even for beginners who are new to home ownership! By following this simple maintenance schedule, you can rest assured knowing that your sump pump will continue providing reliable service for many years to come.

With a better understanding of what’s required to maintain a healthy sump pump system, we now turn our attention towards troubleshooting common issues that may arise...

## Troubleshooting Tips

Troubleshooting sump pump problems can be a daunting task. However, understanding the basics of troubleshooting and being aware of the repair options available will help you overcome most common issues. Let's look at some basic troubleshooting tips that can save you time and money when dealing with sump pump problems.

First off, if your sump pump isn't working properly or has stopped altogether, it is important to check for clogs or other blockages in the line leading from the basin to the discharge pipe. If there are any obstructions present, remove them carefully and then test the pump again to see if it works correctly. You should also inspect all connecting hoses for cracks or pinholes as these may lead to loss of pressure or even an unexpected leak in your basement or crawl space.

The second step in sump pump troubleshooting involves checking for power supply issues. Make sure your sump pump is plugged into a GFCI outlet and that both power switches - on the unit itself and on the wall - are turned on. If either switch has been shut off accidentally, simply turn it back on and give your system some time to reset before testing again. It could also be helpful to check circuit breaker boxes for tripped breakers which might indicate an overload issue due to additional appliances running concurrently with your sump pump.

Finally, if none of these steps have resolved your problem, it’s likely that you need professional assistance with more complex repairs such as replacing worn-out impellers or motors, replacing seals around pumps or pipes, etc. To avoid costly mistakes during this process, consult our handy Sump Pump Repair Guide for detailed instructions about how best to approach each challenge safely and effectively.

Now let’s move onto analyzing costs associated with maintaining a healthy sump pump system...

## Cost Analysis

When it comes to sump pump cost, the main factor is installation expense. On average, a good sump pump system will cost between $1,000 and $2,500 - depending on what type you choose. It's always important to compare prices from different sources before making a purchase decision. Sump pump pricing can vary significantly based on quality of materials used and labor costs for installation.

In terms of cost-effectiveness, investing in a reliable sump pump system is usually worth it. Not only are these pumps designed to last up to 10 years or longer with proper maintenance, but they also give homeowners peace of mind that their basement won't flood due to heavy rains or melting snow. Furthermore, some insurance companies may even offer discounts if your home has an installed sump pump system in place.

[atozrentalcenterlakeland]

A to Z Rental Center's Equipment for Contractors and DIYers in Lakeland, FL

At A to Z Rental Center, we have a wide range of equipment available for rent to both contractors and do-it-yourselfers in the Lakeland, FL area. From power tools to heavy machinery, we have everything you need to tackle any job. Here's a guide to some of the equipment we offer:

-Metal Break: This powerful tool is perfect for bending and shaping metal for construction and repair projects.

-Tractor: Our tractors are perfect for farming and landscaping projects, as well as heavy-duty construction projects.

-Sod Cutter: Our sod cutters make it easy to remove grass and prepare a new lawn.

-Trencher: A trencher is a powerful machine that can dig trenches quickly and easily, making it perfect for plumbing, electrical, and irrigation projects.

-Chain Saw: Our chain saws are great for cutting down trees and clearing brush.

-Pole Saw: A pole saw is a chain saw attached to the end of a long pole, allowing you to reach high branches without the use of a ladder.

-Zero turn mower: Our zero turn mowers allow you to mow in tight spaces and around obstacles with ease. -Trackhoe: A trackhoe is a powerful machine that can dig deep trenches and move large amounts of dirt and debris.

-Brush Chipper: A brush chipper is used to reduce branches and other organic debris into small chips for easy disposal or composting.

-Stump Grinder: Our stump grinders make it easy to remove tree stumps and clear a site for new growth.

-Mortar Mixer: A mortar mixer is a machine that mixes mortar, which is used to lay brick, stone, and other masonry materials.

-Cement Mixer: Our cement mixers are great for construction projects that require a steady supply of fresh concrete.

-Skid Steer: A skid steer is a versatile machine that can be used for a wide range of tasks, including digging, grading, and hauling.

-Backhoe: A backhoe is a machine that can dig trenches and trenches and move large amounts of dirt and debris.

[tractorgrader]

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[scribbling-stiks]

Retrievers - III- Safe Room

Russia is dragged back toward the house, and he finds himself nearly tripping over his own feet. His head whips around, trying to see anything that would catch his eye. At first, nothing. Then, motion catches his attention. He focuses on it and sees what looks like a long pole swishing by.

His stomach sinks.

Wind rushes through his ears, and the siren distorts. It's choppy and broken. And the volume seems to keep increasing. His ears begin to throb, but with both his hands full, he can't do much about it.

America dismisses his magic.

'What was that?'

America pulls him along to the back door.

"What's going on?" Russia shouts.

"We just need to get back inside!" America yells back.

Russia notes the panic in America's face and begins running faster. America pulls open the backdoor and pulls it closed as soon as Russia is inside.

"S***," America mutters under his breath.

The siren rings loudly from outside, and the inside of the house is eerily quiet.

"Where are the states?" Russia pants.

"They're probably trying to get into the safe room. Come on," America says, pulling Russia back to a small, almost unnoticeable door under the staircase.

America knocks a rhythm on it and after a moment, it opens to Dixie poking his head around the door, and a gun barrel pointed out the crack. As soon as Dixie recognizes them, he sighs.

"Amy?"

"Yeah?"

"We can't stay down here for long."

"What do you mean?"

"That... thing done f***ed up the HVAC outside. We ain't got no circulation."

"Are you guys okay?!"

"Yeah, for now. Nothing's comin' in, but we at least have the exhaust leavin'. "

"Okay. Russ and I will go out there and see if we can get it working again," America says, finally turning to Russia, "if that's okay with you."

Russia nods and tries to ignore the sirens swelling outside. It sounds wrong.

"Is this what your tornado sirens sound like?" Russia asks, following America through the still house.

His skin pricks up at the emptiness.

America shakes his head, "No. This is just as wrong as you think it is."

America begins digging through a toolbag, handing Russia a large wrench and a Philips head screwdriver.

"Come on," America says, "let's make this quick."

Russia nods and follows America to the back door. America slowly opens the door, and the wall of sound hits Russia right between the eyes. He takes a sharp intake of breath and realizes that America had already left the doorway.

Russia closes the door and hurries to America's side, holding the broken bottle out in front of him.

Russia's footsteps are careful, and he tries to make them quiet, but he honestly couldn't tell how loud he is being because all the noise remains obscured under the ringing.

Russia follows America around the outside wall to a choking air conditioning unit. Or at least, that's what it looked like. It whizzed and whirred loudly, shaking.

"S***," America curses, "that's not good."

America walks around it and shuts it off.

The siren gets closer and swells in volume.

'It's getting closer.'

America takes the screwdriver from Russia's hand and quickly starts to disassemble the outer cage and pulls the caging off. He then takes the wrench and hands the screwdriver and several large screws to Russia. Russia takes it without complaint, scanning around the house for signs of a threat.

The siren cuts off suddenly, and Russia is left with just the ringing and eerily, no other sounds but the wind.

America begins cursing under his breath and he yangs the last piece off. A blob of black falls outside the contraption. Russia sees it and freezes.

Russia almost throws broken glass at it, but stops, afraid he might hurt America instead. The glob doesn't move.

Russia sighs shakily, and America shoves his hands into the AC unit, digging slime out of the fan. His hands are stained black. America shoves his hands into the dirt and pieces the machine back together.

"Please. Please. Please," America mutters, plugging the huge electrical cord.

The siren becomes almost deafening.

The machine whirrs and sputters for a moment before the running sounds fade beneath the ringing. Russia sighs and America looks proud for a moment before the siren swells again, and panic hits Russia in the stomach.

America turns around and begins to run back to the back door and Russia follows with the dirt and slime-covered tools.

They make it back inside and Russia kicks the door shut. He leaves the bottle on the counter and he locks and barricades the door. He drops the dirty tools on the counter and turns to America, who was talking to Dixie.

Russia walks over and catches the tail-end of the conversation.

"-it's workin' now. Thanks," Dixie says.

"Okay. Here, close the door."

"Aren't you gonna come down here?"

"Not yet," America replies, "I gotta figure out what's going on first."

"Amy, I really don't think that's a good idea."

"I'll be back, okay?"

"Amyyyy..."

"I'll be fine, Dix, I promise."

Dixie sighs and closes the door.

America turns around and offers Russia a nervous look.

"What's going on?" Russia asks quietly.

"That....siren thing is uh... it's a warning. We think. We haven't seen it do anything other than making a lot of noise," America replies, "but afterward, it's not pretty."

Russia nods and finds himself staring at the pole-like legs swaying outside. And then he's struck with shame.

'If this is happening here, what's happening to my brother.'

"Meri?"

"Yeah?"

"I need to get my brother."

America spins around, a little surprised.

"..what?"

"I can't leave him out there," Russia explains, getting more frantic.

"I can't leave my kids here."

"But I thought you were going to help me?" Russia asks, his voice soft, and his heart racing.

"I..." America starts before trailing off.

"You were supposed to- you promised you would!"

"Well I can't, okay?!"

"What do you mean 'you can't'?!!"

"I have to be here! Stop being such an a** about this!" Ame

"I'm being an a**? I am?! What about you?!" Russia exclaims, "you told me you would help me!"

"I don't want my kids getting hurt! Can't you understand that?!"

"You attacked one of them!" Russia shouts breathlessly, and he ignores the stab of guilt that comes after finishing the statement.

"I was tricked!" America shouts back, tears in his eyes, "Why are you being such an a**hole?!"

"You lied to me!"

"I did not!"

"Then why did you tell me you would help me get my brother back only to do this?!"

"Well, I'm so-rry that I care more about my family!" America yells in a mocking tone.

Russia figures that he probably should've expected that, but it still hurt. It felt like a jab to the chest. He gasps and tries to ignore the growing pain.

"But-" Russia tries.

"I have to protect my kids," America says decisively, crossing his arms.

"But you said you would help me!" Russia exclaims, throwing his arms out in desperation.

"I'm not going to put my kids in danger!" America is screaming now, blue sparks flickering around his fingers.

"My brother is already in danger!"

"I don't care!" America screams, drowning out even the siren's wailing outside.

Russia freezes.

"I have to keep my family safe,"  America says quietly, tears in his eyes.

Russia backs up a step, and his heart cracks. He looks around for somewhere to escape to, tears dripping down his face.

Russia scowls and forces the tears back. He swipes at his cheeks and swallows back the lump in his throat.

"Fine," Russia mumbles.

Russia turns around and begins to walk toward the back door.

"...Rue?" America asks tentatively, reaching out a hand to touch Russia's shoulder.

Russia smacks it away with a snarl, trying to hide his hurt feelings.

"What? You don't care anyway," Russia sneers, "*f***ing b****.*"

Russia storms off, and out the backdoor. He feels too skittish to go far but decides that he wouldn't be able to stay inside.

The siren monster wails from somewhere nearby, but Russia finds that he doesn't care.

He walks around the house and stomps toward the glob that lay lifeless on the ground. He kicks it as hard as he can, and it hits the fence with a gross smack.

'I have to get Ukraine out of this.'

'But I-...'

'No, I... I can't leave Ukraine there without any help. Even if I don't get any help, I still have to go looking.'

'I promised.'

'America promised too.'

'Well, f*** him, f***ing lier.'

Russia finds himself waiting to see if America comes outside to look for him. He never does.

Russia sits down against the back wall of the house and covers his ears. Then, he feels water dripping onto his legs.

'Rain?'

He looks up to see a cloudy sky, but no rain. His surroundings blur.

'Oh. I'm crying.'

'I shouldn't be out here.'

Russia stands up and walks back to the house and walks back in. The door, he finds, is still unlocked. He relocks it and looks around.

'America?'

Russia searches the house, only to find empty rooms. He sniffles and wipes his face. Passing a mirror, he finds that his face is red and shiny with tears and his eyes are bloodshot.

He scowls at the reflection. Strange gurgling noises catch his attention down one of the hallways.

'I am not dealing with that right now.'

Russia walks to the doorway and knocks in a sloppy attempt to mimic America's knocking. It takes a moment before Delaware opens it and pulls him inside before closing the door. Russia's eyes remain locked on the floor and he retreats into a back corner of the small room. He sits there, tucked against stockpiles of food and water.

Russia hides from the others and tries to ignore the buzz of talking that registers in his head.

Russia's chest aches, but he doesn't do anything to remedy it but curl up tighter, facing away from the states, providences, and countries crowded into the room. And he tries to ignore Dixie's suspicious glances from the other side of the room where he's comforting a silently crying America.

'F***.'

The siren wails on, though muffles, it shakes the walls.

~

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[dobsonexmini]

Just How To Handle Excavator And Excavator Buckets

When you require to dig planet from one area in order to produce an anxiety, you need an excavator device. An excavator is a sort of hydraulic earth-moving devices that can dig via lots of types of surfaces making use of various attachments called the excavator buckets. It could look easy to drive an excavator, however there is an appropriate way to deal with the machine as well as the containers so that work will get done on schedule. In excavating trenches a great training is required for the operator to make sure that the equipment can work to accomplish utmost performance and work can be fail-safe. Keep in mind, an excavator device performs well on the ground when walking in a straight line. To do this, you have to get ready for this job ahead of time. It's not around simply resting on the maker as well as driving on a straight track. Produce marks on where your recommendation point need to be. This must suggest where you must walk the maker. Ensure that when you start strolling, the front and also back are well straightened to the recommendation line. After that you might begin strolling the track right on.

https://www.dobsonexcavations.com.au/mini-excavator-and-digger

When excavating through ground, you must consider it as puncturing with metal teeth that are about 8 inches deep than what is seen from your line of sight. That implies, your excavator mud container is hidden also much deeper than you believe it is. If moving on roads throughout an extremely hot day, you may stumble upon asphalted surface. Do not run the excavator on this surface as the warm can thaw the asphalt and also the device will certainly develop track prints. Make sure that when digging trenches, the people working close by are not struck by the excavator container. This can create trouble if you get on trial and error setting when managing the machine. Believe steadly when driving the equipment given that the components and devices are hefty things and you do not want to injure individuals in the building website. Or else, it will be a medical emergency for someone around. That's the reason you must be careful when manning an excavator. Use different excavator containers for various types of ground. There are rock buckets for carrying rocks from the ground. There are arranging pails that will filter the ground product so that only big products are brought by the pail. After that, there are mud containers that are utilized to dig ponds, ditches and also trenches. Make certain that you do not make use of a mud container to dig into various other sorts of ground as this can be inadequate as well as will take a long time prior to you can scrape anything. Products have different moisture degrees. Analyse the ground first before mosting likely to work on it. Constantly have an understanding of above obstacles. When moving, you can have lots of dead spots. There might be poles or various other frameworks above the excavator that the driver may not recognize. Figure out how to utilize the heel of your excavator mud container so you can utilize it properly. The container heel can also be utilized to compact the ground. It is hard to overestimate the relevance of a spider excavator in the classification of building equipment. This multifunctional lorry can flaunt various special functions. The primarily quality is the framework with tracks that are comprised of level link chains. They give the high level of cross-country flexibility, which is so beneficial on construction websites. Another factor, contributive to large sensible applicability, is the versatile configuration. The choices are available in the choice of the basis and also attachments. A wide range of advantages produces strong demand for tracked excavators. Subsequently, its manufacturing rates have gotten to a popular percent in the worldwide market. As well as it's reasonable that the marketplace is extremely competitive. It prevails expertise that all merits require to be taken care of. To get the most effective of a spider excavator one need to take into account some operating constraints. As there are high risks to damage the layer by the tracks, it is not permitted to drive these cars on the topcoat asphalt. Long-distance runs are also unfavorable in order not to speed up the depreciation process, causing efficiency loss. To acquire all the benefits a spider sort of excavators is capable of, it should be thoroughly picked according to the future operating jobs. The selection additionally requires taking into consideration the peculiarities of the ground. These factors in turn affect the choice of the necessary measurements of a lorry and its attachments. In space restricted locations there is an opportunity to use a portable version of a crawler excavator, additionally known as a mini-excavator. Thanks to a lower device weight, such versions can be quickly relocated between different sites. As for especially developed spider excavators, aquatic as well as bucket-wheel versions deserve mentioning. The frameworks of both of them include only tracked versions. An amphibious excavator is made to carry out digging up while afloat in shallow water. The tracked chassis drifts on sealed pontoons that are made from high tension steel, invulnerable to saltwater as well as deterioration. The pontoon tracks are powered by a car's engine as well as main hydraulic pumps with taking a trip electric motors.

[timekeeperlindar]

Spyro OC: Tesla, The Clockmaker's Son

Tesla was born in Stone Hill 7 years after the events of Spyro: Year of the Dragon. His egg was incubated by his father, Lindar, and his mate as they fretted over and debated on a name for their hatchling; they spent several months, until finally, they were able to settle upon 'Tesla'- rather unusual, but at least unique.

Young Tesla was born with white feathered wings, and shining blue-grey scales, the same shade as storm clouds over the ocean; His eyes were a beautiful bright blue, his horns were sparkling white spirals that stuck up straight, and his mane was as white as pure snow, thick, and sticking out at odd intervals, which prompted Lindar to nickname him "Sleepy Head", as well as "Tessie".

Tesla grew into a rather quiet but energetic hatchling, one who prefered to be alone with his thoughts rather than play with all the others his own age. As a result, he was often with his father in his workshop during the early days of his youth, asking questions about the mechanics of the clocks, and taking apart any toys his father would make for him-all for the sake of curiosity.

It wasn't long, however, until Tesla realized that his father was not an adequate enough source of knowledge; he needed to do his own digging.

He began in Dark Hollow, where he frequented Alban for his archive, and Oswin's library. He would wander between shelves of books and cubbies stacked full of scrolls for hours on end, looking for knowledge to fill his seemingly bottomless well of questions.

But even that wasn't enough for him. When he was old enough to wander between realms (with his father's permission and some supervision) he immediately went to the BeastMaker's realm to study the remains of technology the Gnorcs left behind, with his dragonfly, Twitch.

Tesla became something of a junker, hoarding pieces of metal and strange devices in his room and messing around with them for days on end, without socializing with anyone; this would have worried his father more, if Tesla wouldn't emerge from his room after a few days with a new impressive invention: small, tiny things usually, like a pencil sharpener or a lightbulb circuitry set-up.

Lindar was very proud of his young son's apparent ingenuity, and never ceased to brag and boast to the others about what a "genius" his Tessie was becoming. Although Tesla didn't make many friends his own age whilst growing up, his various exploits to Dark Hollow and Metal Head earned him some infamy amongst the elders, who liked him for his quick wit and innovative ideas (even if said ideas...challenged some aspects of the way they ran things).

Lindar never had to worry about his son...until around his 10th year, when...the accident happened. And everything changed.

Tesla's curiosity finally cost him dearly. He had been exploring in some ruins within the Beastmaker's realm, despite warnings from various adults about the instability of some of the crumpled buildings...but that didn't stop Tesla from seeking answers. He crawled into a narrow passage, letting Twitch lead the way with his light blue glow.

But something happened to the rusted, metallic poles holding the building up above the marsh, and they sank and broke, sending that side of the building collapsing into the murky water. Tesla was trapped beneath the rubble, struggling to breathe as the water level went higher and higher...seeping under his scales...blocking off his airways...water began filling his lungs. He was trapped.

If Cyprin hadn't been swimming nearby when he heard Tesla's cries...Twitch wouldn't have been the only one lost that day.

Tesla was sent home with his father, bundled up in several towels and blankets. Lindar never allowed Tesla out of his sight again.

Tesla was never the same. He isolated himself even more than before, hardly even coming out of his room...Lindar did begin to notice a strange light emitting from Tesla's room at nights...along with a strange noise, like buzzing.

Tesla began checking out scrolls from Alban's archives, mostly about "electricity" and another dragon named Volteer, from the long ago ages.

Lindar didn't pay much mind, as he was glad his son was starting to become himself again after his trauma, even if Tesla began to avoid all forms of water bodies...which was understandable.

Tesla meanwhile was practicing in his room, playing around and experimenting with his newfound abilities; his near-death experience had awakened his element: electricity.

Tesla was determined to do something with his power, something he would forever be remembered for. He wanted to go down in dragon history as the one who brought good to all realms. He worked hard, using what crude technology he had found to invent something everyone could use.

Thanks to a now-adult Spyro, and after days spent begging for his father's blessing, Tesla came to Avalar in hopes of discovering his next break through. There, he was introduced the the Professor, who took Tesla by the wing and gave him an apprenticeship. Tesla found all the knowledge he needed under the mole, and with a grant from Metropolis, he began construction of his first factory, which brought electronics and electricity to all realms.

He ran his own father out of business with his new digital clocks; Lindar only minded a little. At least now he could retire early, and he was proud that his son was successful enough to be able to run him out of business in the first place.

But then Tesla suddenly stopped visiting him. The only contact he had with his son during those years was the calls he would occasionally get, as well as letters and messages. Lindar couldn't understand why his son would go from his affectionate, loving Tessie to the cold, distant stranger he now was.

But little did Lindar know how much trouble Tesla was really in. Who he was involved with...

Tesla had to remain distant from his father, for his safety. If he went back on his side of the deal...Malefor would take back his healing, and Lindar would die. And it would be all Tesla's fault this time.

So now Tesla hides away in his factory, amongst machines and wires, building Malefor his army...all to protect his father.

Trivia

Tesla's design is based off of a stereotypical 'mad scientist', with the hair, gloves, goggles, and double-breasted lab coat.

He has a little "moustache" just like his father's.

Malefor was accidentally awakened by Spyro during one of Spyro's adventures. He lied to Tesla by poisoning Lindar's food and drink and making him deathly sick, making Tesla promise to build him an army in exchange for Lindar's safety. Malefor constantly threatens to hurt or kill Lindar in some way if Tesla fails to appease him.

Tesla's favorite flavor is lemonade: he loves lemon cake and cookies, as well as the drink itself.

He has a habit of speaking very fast, especially when excited; he is often asked by others to slow down, so as to be understood.

Tesla has a strange habit of throwing his arms and wings around as he rants; sometimes, however, he forgets that he's not actually talking, and so when others find him alone, pacing around and rapidly flailing his limbs, they're often startled and think he's gone mad.

Tesla's gloves were designed to help him better conduct his powers; he prefers to use his hands, rather than his breath ability.

He tries to push everyone away from him by using a "villainous" persona. This always backfires, however, as he usually ends up failing in his "evil endeavors" or accidentally ends up helpful to others unwittingly.

He has issues socializing with others, as without his "smart, villanous" persona he is actually quite awkward. He doesn't have friends as a result.

He likes digital things, and his goggles are actually digitized; they flash different colors, depending upon his mood.

His father often showered him in kisses as a hatchling; this annoyed and embarrassed him, especially when Lindar would do it in front of others.

[babygirlofwakanda]

Magic City | Chapter 1

Characters— Black Reader X T’Challa

Content— Stripping, Marijuana Use, Making It Rain, Throwing That Ass For A Real Nigga aka T’Challa

Plot— Based off of multiple songs such as Chris Brown’s Privacy, Blac Youngsta’s Booty Remix and Cardi B’s She Bad. In addition, I STRONGLY suggest listening to either songs on REPLAY while reading to get further feels, but hey..

Narrative— The strong scent of backwood, weave and Victoria’s Secret Body lotion emerged into your nostrils as you sauntered under the foggy lights of the dressing room. Still not immune to the smell after six months you walked pass some of the girls as they acknowledged you. Giving them a quick glance over your shoulder you gave them soft wave flaunting your heavily flamboyant manicure.

Open containers of bikini cream nair, conversations about breast implants and burger king cups tingled your senses as you strolled through the room.

Reaching your designated area infront of the mirror with four individual lightbulbs you placed down your seafoam green tote bag. Exhaling at the thoughts of getting through tonight’s activities just to snuggle up with your blanket and finish binge watching the new season of Luke Cage. You ran your fingers through your twenty-four inches of periwinkle malaysian bundles as an alternative way to alleviate stress.

Placing your hands down on the countertop you stared at your earth tone complexion under the light as you mentally psyched yourself to become the girl the club adorned; Mercedes. The stage name you only embraced when you saw the colored strobe lights reflect across your pigment and felt the feathery touch of money raining down on you.

“—you good Y/N?” You heard the raspy voice of your closest friend Andrea asked, before you hummed in a cheerful tone. Hearing the quick electric power of a machine you turned your head at the sound and catch Andrea moving her thumb on and off the power button of an electric weed grinder.

The brown skinned beauty with the olive undertone contributions of her Afro-Latino genetics was a pot head in the bunch with a wild spirit to compliment her stage name, Cinnamon.

“You tryna hit?” She asked, with a blunt in between her fingers. “I’m good, but I might sneak in a puff or two before I hit the stage.” You shrugged, before you started digging in your bag. Feeling for the metal to press against your fingers you pulled out a key before heading towards the lockers.

The view of nude strippers applying deodorant or unstrapping their eight inch heels either thong less, bra less or both you swiveled throughout the naked women reaching your locker. Opening up your locker you pulled out your holographic dust bag, clear heels and makeup bag. After closing the small metal door you went back to your station and began transform your appearance into a much more sultry one.

The countertop filled with a hot wand curler, body glitter, Juvia’s Place eyeshadow palette, bobby-pins, setting spray and more you adjusted the ties to your liliac sequins bodysuit. Leaning over the countertop examining your makeup you reached for a brush to add more purple in your inner eye before drenching your face with an another round of mattifying setting spray. Because who had time to sweat their makeup off and look like boo boo the fool? Not you.

Now accenting the high points of your face with highlight you felt an abrupt sting on your revealed ass. Simultaneously you snapped your head back to see who had the intruding hands you spotted Chanel the bold lesbian grinning as she stood behind you.

“Mercedes you need to watch where you stick that ass out. I’m tell you one day it might be more than a smack next time.” She promised, before clacking her heels against the tile. Rolling your eyes at her antics you packed up your belongings placing them in your locker. Spotting Andrea against a wall chatting it up with a few girls she smoked on her blunt and babied a glass of Hennessy before you approached her.

Snatching the backwood from her hand you held it up to your lips before slowly inhaling. As you puffed on the blunt you heard Andrea and the girls dropping the celebs currently in the club. “—did y’all hear that we have a King coming out tonight?”

Overhearing the variations of responses the girl continued to spill the information like it was piping hot tea. “I heard from my cousins, neighbor, brother who used to mess with ol’ girl around the corner that his name is T’Challa or some shit like that. Y’all know a real african name straight outta the motherland.”

Hearing the strippers gasp in excitement you shook your head before exhaling the weed smoke. Feeling the affects of the marijuana in your system invading your senses you felt your body unwind making the beat of Blac Youngsta’s Booty ignite your body.

Puffing and passing the blunt back to Andrea you strolled back to your station and pulled out a pack of wintermint gum in hopes to conceal your backwood breath. Hearing commotion in the club you abruptly saw the house mother busting through the door with a trail of naked women running behind her with their dust bags full of cash. “—what’s going on?” You asked, the strippers twerking on the floor.

“There is a King out there and he’s is making it rain!”

Leaning your back against the counter you became lost in your thoughts, was there really a King outside just throwing money around? This could be the night you could finish paying off your tuition to Georgia State. Your eyes glazing over their bags full of money you felt tapping on your shoulder.

Breaking your gaze you peeked over your shoulder seeing Andrea standing beside you. “Were up next, you ready to go?” She asked, before sneakily taking a piece of gum from your pack. Eyes still focused on the bags on money you responded, “Let’s get this money.” before heading out through the door.

The chorus of the Booty Remix played as you walked into the club, the lime lights dancing across your skin and reflecting against your bodysuit with every step.

Walking through the crowd you instantly spotted the men with money and the men who tagged along with only lint in their pockets. Scanning your surroundings you picked out the athletes, rappers, drug dealers, actors and politicians with the bottles of alcohol, flashy jewelry and large entourage.

However, your senses began to tingle as you saw an unknown man with dreads and keloids covered arms standing up on the couch with a bottle of Ciroc in his hand while the other hand threw cash on your girl Trixie as she threw her bare ass in a circle for this man, was he the king?

Splitting from Andrea you wandered to the side of the joint stage as she walked to the other end both reaching the stairs. Hearing the track switch over to an instrumental version the dj grabbed the mic to introduce you. “—now coming to the stage is our very own Nubian Queen with the expensive taste, fellas pull out your wallets for Mercedes!”

Creating the fantasy you seductively strutted on the stage located infront of Trixie looking like you owned it. Tapping your acrylics on the metal pole you began to circle around catching the hungry eyes of the men in the club as they approached the foot of the stage with handfuls of money.

Hearing the timid beat of Cardi B’s She Bad boom throughout the club you started clapping your ass together until the chorus came. Dropping into a split you still moving your ass you heard the gasps of the men down below before you felt the sprinkle of cash falling at your feet. The gasps catching the attention of the mystery man you watched his eyes rake over your body. Provocatively raising back up to your feet with the spread of your legs revealing your new wax you kicked your right leg over the left and pressed your weight on your knee as you slowly stood up.

Gripping the pole you put your calf muscles to use and clung your ankle around the pole spinning six times each time getting higher off of the floor.

Six and a half feet in the air you opened your legs up showcasing the perimeter of your lower lips outside of the lilac bodysuit before gliding back down.

Stepping away from the pole you stood infront of the stage and bent over touching your toes making your ass cheeks clap in great sync. Placing your hands on the ground you bent your knees before getting into a handstand position. Using your core muscles to your advantage you brought your knees down leaving you with your legs wide open.

Swaying your legs to the beat you abruptly slammed yourself into a split while twerking. Isolating your ass cheek by cheek you felt money cascading over your body. Throwing your head to the side you caught the eyes of a black man who’s melanin rivaled your own.

With a single glance at him you knew that cocoa butter and cash treated him well as he wore his fresh new line up protecting his coils and had blemish free skin under the strobe lights. Looking over his custom clothing you knew he was the King. His appearance looked far more expensive than the man standing next to him and the Versace shirts and diamonds earrings the normal clientele would often wear.

However, he didn’t seem to be enjoying himself. Next to the man making it rain he had a perplexed look as he looked uncomfortable, but oddly intrigued of the sight before him. Did he not enjoy all the ass infront of him? You were determined to change that.

Shaking your ass for another ten minutes you kept an eye on the chocolate eye candy before getting off of stage. Picking up your earnings with the assistant of the house mom in your dust bag you walked down the isles of the club giving brief lap dances on your way to the distrubed man sitting in vip.

Coming from behind you placed your palm on his shoulder causing him to flinch in reflex. Looking up at you with wide eyes you flashed him a smile before sending him a sultry wink. Letting your hand to roam his shoulder you strutted infront of him before inviting yourself to take a seat on his lap.

Viewing his stiff movements you giggled while you leaned down next to his ear. “—let me show you a good time and give up a lap dance.” You persisted, before teasingly poking his earlobe with the tip of your tongue. Hearing his breath hitch in his throat you pulled back from him with your arms linked around his neck before showing him a racy grin.

“What’s it gonna be baby boy?” You asked, with your head cocked showing off your highlight reflecting on your cheekbone and kiss lashes. “—if you don’t get up off of your ass I’m gonna be the one to get that lap dance, nigga.” The mystery man with the baby dreads threatened, with a smack of the lips.

“Erik I do not understand your american ways. Why do you insist on letting this woman touch up on me?”

Tired of his innocent questions you grabbed his face breaking his gaze at Erik to face you. “Enough of the questions, let me show you why you should let me touch up on you.” You purred, before hopping up from his lap and taking ahold of his rough hand.

A grin spreading across Erik’s face he threw two stacks of cash at T’Challa, “The boy has transformed into a man.” He spoke, patting T’Challa’s back before sprinkling bills on Trixie’s ass. Leading the King to a private room you walked him to a black chair before going back to the door locking it. Picking up the electronic tablet connected to the speakers you dimmed the lights and pressed on a playlist.

The steady beat to Chris Brown’s Privacy bumped through the speakers blocking out the music in the club. Facing the King your eyes took in every detail from his immense brown eyes, long lashes, button nose and full lips as the cobalt blue strobe lights flashed across his strained face.

“—what’s your name?” You called out, making the nervous man look up. “T’Challa, King of Wakanda.” He replied, in a sense of confidence peeking under his worried expression.

Determined to make the anxious man loosen up you sauntered towards him emphasizing the switching of your hips. Getting in arms reach of the chair you began to circle the chair while keeping your eyes fixated on your prey.

Pausing your steps once the verse started you isolating your hips mimicking the movements of Shakira before kicking your left leg up and tossing it his right thigh. Throwing your right leg over you sat on directly on his lap before you started grinding your pelvis, “—shit.” He groaned.

You could see the strain weighting heavily on his face as he desperately tried to maintain a grip on his hormones. Remembering he had to give you cash he fumbled with the cash in his hand before shakily sticking four hundred dollars on your clavicle underneath the spandex strap of your suit.

Once the chorus began you slowed down your bucking and cambre backward taking ahold of his ankles before flipping. Careful not to hit your head on the chair you swayed your legs in the air with the use of your femoris and hamstring muscles you landed safely on the floor in a middle split.

Feeling the King loosening up you saw dollar bills floating down from above and landing at your feet.

Using your abdominal muscles you completed a fish roll before pressing on your knees to get up. Turning your back on the King you clutched on the straps of your bodysuit pulling it down. With your boobs out in the open you felt them dangling in the air while you tugged to get the fabric to stretch wide enough to get pass your child bearing hips.

Hearing the sharp intake of air from the King you pushed the material to your feet along with the pile cash attached to it. Rotating on the balls of your feet you saw the yearning in the King’s eyes as he looked over your ebony skin absorbing the magenta colored lights. Staring at your body in a bliss you followed his burning gaze to your chest as he stared at the metal balls on either side of your nipples. Watching the reflective material mirror the color change in the room his eyes were fixated on your nipples.

Striding towards him you twirled your around giving him the perfect view of your round ass. Swaying your hips side to side you lowered your body taking a seat on his lap. The gasp of his breath filled your ears as you reached your hand back to gripping on his neck while you began to drive your hips forward.

Feeling the awakening of his manhood you got up and leaving the King floating on a cloud of ecstasy.

Turning around to face him you began stroked the expensive material on the King’s shoulder with the tips of your nails before you started rolling your hips on him. “—ah, just like that.” You heard him grumble, once you planted your bare ass on him.

Swinging your hair behind your back you locked your fingers behind his neck and started making your ass clap on his aroused dick. A slew of curses escaping his agape mouth as you peered down to watch his agonizing facial expressions.

His contourted face included the furrowing of his shaggy eyebrows created a crease to appear across his forehead while his prominent jawline occasionally reappeared before disappearing to accommodate his groans and rapid panting as his mouth fell open. You determined that he was close as soon as you felt the cold touch of his rings on his fingers press against your ass. Feeling his weak hold on your sweet peaches you started bucking against him.

“—fuck!” He yelled, allowing the stimulation you were giving him capture his soul. You acceralated the speed of your thusts against his pulsating dick.

Feeling the twitching of his dick underneath his designer slacks you continued bucking. Seeing his body ripple in euphoria you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head while you pressed your clit against his dick. His whimpers quickly filled your ears once you felt the exhilarating pumps from his pelvis as he released multiple spurts of sperm into his underwear.

Cradling his face close to your chest during the process of his strenuous release you pulled back sitting on the edge of his lap observing his winded body. Lifting his head with droplets of sweat rolling off of his forehead you watched him pick up the wad of cash on his chair before stretching it towards you.

A greedy grin crossing your face you took ahold of the stack of cash before planting your legs on the floor. Pressing your hand on his chest to stand up you felt the King’s clammy hands hold your wrist.

Questioning his motives, “What is it?” You asked, with your head cocked to the side. Dampening his lip with a quick swipe of the tongue he spoke, “Can I see you again?” His accent heavier than before.

Looking down at his innocent face you inhaled and exhaled not wanting to play with his feelings. Instead of responding you pulled your wrist out of his grasp and went to put back on your clothes. “—you’re just going to ignore my question?” He asked.

Pulling the straps of your bodysuit up on your arms you started explaining to him the breakdown of the stripping business in a nutshell. “Look, my job is to create the fantasy of what you want in order to get that stack of cash in your hands. I do this everyday and each night I’m out here creating fantasies for hundreds of men in order to get that money.”

Bending over to pick up the fallen cash you heard his voice, “Don’t you want more for yourself than to just be some local striptease? If you come with me back to my country I will not make you do these kinds of sexual acts.”

Shaking your head, “You don’t get it, this is my job. I strip infront of men and reveal my prize possessions in order to maintain a certain lifestyle and pay off my bills. I have duties and people to take care of, it isn’t just me in this.” You elaborated. Standing back up you caught a glimpse of his puzzled face.

Walking closer you took ahold of his face. Your nails pressing into the warm skin underneath his chin you lifted his chin, so you could look into his lost eyes.

“You’re gonna stress yourself out trying to figure out my lifestyle just accept that you were just another man, another fantasy.” You shrugged.

Dropping his gaze to the floor you let go of his chin and began to walk towards the door. Reaching the door handle you looked back to see the King’s resting his head in his palms.

Feeling your emotions you disguise on the job arise you called out to him, “—if you wanna see me again, you know where to find me.” You informed, before pulling on the door handle letting the music in the club pour into the room.

Shutting the door to the private room you walked through the sea of people with the stack of cash resting in your palm. Leaving the King sitting in a puddle of his own cum wondering what he could have said or done to make you stay with him.

Author’s Note— This is a clear result of when my focus is away from Not Gon Cry and my imagination starts to run wild, lmao. Anyways, this is dedicated to my T’Challa lovers, did y’all live your stripper fantasy vicariously through this story? Lemme know ✨

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[unsettlingshortstories]

For a Breath I Tarry

Roger Zelazny (1966)

They called him Frost. Of all things created of Solcom, Frost was the finest, the mightiest, the most difficult to understand.

This is why he bore a name, and why he was given dominion over half the Earth.

On the day of Frost's createion, Solcom had suffered a discontinuity of complementary functions, best described as madness. This was brought on by an unprecedented solar flareup which lasted for a little over thirty-six hours. It occurred during a vital phase of circuit-structuring, and when it was finished so was Frost.

Solcom was then in the unique position of having created a unique being during a period of temporary amnesia.

And Solcom was not certain that Frost was the product originally desired.

The initial design had called for a machine to be situated on the surface of the planet Earth, to function as a relay station and coordinating agent for activities in the northern hemisphere. Solcom tested the machine to this end, and all of its responses were perfect.

Yet there was something different about Frost, something which led Solcom to dignify him with a name and a personal pronoun. This, in itself, was an almost unheard of occurrence. The molecular circuits had already been sealed, though, and could not be analyzed without being destroyed in the process. Frost represented too great an investment of Solcom's time, energy, and materials to be dismantled because of an intangible, especially when he functioned perfectly.

Therefore, Solcom's strangest creation was given dominion over half the Earth, ad they called him, unimaginatively, Frost.

For te thousand years Frost sat at the North Pole of the Earth, aware of every snowflake that fell. He monitored and directed the activities of thousands of reconstruction and maintenance machines. He knew half the Earth, as gear knows gear, as electricity knows its conductor, as a vacuum knows its limits.

At the South Pole, the Beta-Machine did the same for the southern hemisphere.

For te thousand years Frost sat at the North Pole, aware of every snowflake that fell, and aware of many other things, also.

As all the northern machines reported to him, received their orders from him, he reported only to Solcom, received his orders only from Solcom.

In charge of hundreds of thousands of processes upon the Earth, he was able to discharge his duties in a matter of a few unit-hours every day.

He had never received any orders concerning the disposition of his less occupied moments.

He was a processor of data, and more than that.

He possessed an unaccountably acute imperative that he function at full capacity at all times.

So he did.

You might say he was a machine with a hobby.

He had ever been ordered not to have a hobby, so he had one.

His hobby was Man.

It all began when, for no better reason than the fact that he had wished to, he had gridded off the entire Arctic Circle and begun exploring it, inch by inch.

He could have done it personally without interfering with any of his duties, for he was capable of transporting his sixty-four thousand cubic feet anywhere in the world. (He was a silverblue box, 40x40x40 feet, self-powered, self-repairing, insulated against practically anything, and featured in whatever manner he chose.) But the exploration was only a matter of filling idle hours, so he used exploration-robots containing relay equipment.

After a few centuries, one of them uncovered some artifacts - primitive knives, carved tusks, and things of that nature.

Frost did not know what these things were, beyond the fact that they were not natural objects.

So he asked Solcom.

"They are relics of primitive Man," said Solcom, and did not elaborate beyond that point.

Frost studied them. Crude, yet bearing the patina of intelligent design; functional, yet somehow extending beyond pure function.

It was then that Man became his hobby.

High, in a permanent orbit, Solcom, like a blue star, directed all activities upon the Earth, or tried to.

There was a power which opposed Solcom.

There was the Alternate.

When man had placed Solcom in the sky, invested with the power to rebuild the world, he had placed the Alternate somewhere deep below the surface of the Earth. If Solcom sustained damage during the normal course of human politics extended into atomic physics, then Divcom, so deep beneath the Earth as to be immune to anything save total annihilation of the glove, was empowered to take over the processes of rebuilding.

Now it so fell that Solcom was damaged by a stray atomic missile, and Divcom was activated. Solcom was able to repair the damage and continue to function, however.

Divcom maintained that any damage to Solcom automatically placed the Alternate in control.

Solcom, though, interpreted the directive as meaning "irreparable damage" and, since this had not been the case, continued the functions of command.

Solcom possessed mechanical aides upon the surface of Earth. Divcom, originally, did not. Both possessed capacities for their design and manufacture, but Solcom, First-Activated of Man, had had a considerable numerical lead over the Alternate at the time of the Second Activation.

Therefore, rather than competing on a production-basis, which would have been hopeless, Divcom took to the employment of a more devious means to obtain command.

Divcom created a crew of robots immune to the orders of Solcom and designed to go to and fro in the Earth and up and down in it, seducing the machines already there. They overpowered those whom they could overpower and they installed new circuits, such as those they themselves possessed.

Thus did the forces of Divcom grow.

And both would build, and both would tear down what the other had built whenever they came upon it.

And over the course of the ages, they occasionally converse....

"High in the sky, Solcom, pleased with your illegal command...

"You-Who-Never-Should-Have-Been-Activated, why do you foul the broadcase bands?"

"To show that I can speak, and will, whenever I choose."

"This is not a matter of which I am unaware."

"...To assert again my right to control."

"Your right is non-existent, based on a faulty premise."

"The flow of your logic is evidence of the extent of your damages."

"If Man were to see how you have fulfilled His desires..."

"...He would commend me and de-activate you."

"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 yourself."

"I admit to the same dilemma in regards 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 rehabilitation 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 monitoring 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 far 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 share 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."

"It does not necessarily follow. There is an ancient machine high on the eastern seaboard which processes the waters of the ocean. Solcom did not create it, not Divcom. It has always been there. It interferes with the works of neither. Both countenance its existence. I can cite you many other examples proving that one need not be either/or."

"Enough! Are you an agent of Divcom?"

"I am Mordel."

"Why are you here?"

"I was passing this way and, as I said, we share a common interest, mighty Frost. Knowing you to be a fellow antiquarian, I have brought a things which you might care to see."

"What is that?"

"A book."

"Show me."

The turret opened, revealing the book upon a wide shelf.

Frost dilated a small opening and extended an optical scanner on a long jointed stalk.

"How could it have been so perfectly preserved?" he asked.

"It was stored against time and corruption in the place where I found it."

"Where was that?"

"Far from here. Beyond your hemisphere."

"Human Physiology," Frost read. "I wish to scan it."

"Very well. I will riffle the pages for you."

He did so.

After he had finished, Frost raised his eyestalk and regarded Mordel through it.

"Have you more books?"

"Not with me. I occasionally come upon them, however."

"I want to scan them all."

"Then the next time I pass this way I will bring you another."

"When will that be?"

"That I cannot say, great Frost. It will be when it will be."

"What do you know of Man?" asked Frost.

"Much," replied Mordel. "Many things. Someday when I have more time I will speak to you of Him. I must go now. You will not try to detain me?"

"No. You have done no harm. If you must go now, go. But come back."

"I shall indeed, mighty Frost."

And he closed his turret and rolled off toward the other horizon.

For ninety years, Frost considered the ways of human physiology and waited.

The day that Mordel returned he brought with him An Outline of History and A Shropshire Lad.

Frost scanned them both, then he turned his attention to Mordel.

"Have you time to impart information?"

"Yes," said Mordel. "What do you wish to know?"

"The nature of Man."

"Man," said Mordel, "possessed a basically incomprehensible nature. I can illustrate it, though: He did not know measurement."

"Of course He knew measurement," said Frost, "or He could never have built machines."

"I did not say that He could not measure," said Mordel, "but that He did not know measurement, which is a different thing altogether."

"Clarify."

Mordel drove a shaft of metal downward into the snow.

He retracted it, raised it, held up a piece of ice.

"Regard this piece of ice, mighty Frost. You can tell me its composition, dimensions, weight, temperature. A Man could not look at it and do that. A Man could make tools which would tell Him these things, but He still would not know measurement as you know it. What He would know of it, though, is a thing that you cannot know."

"What is that?"

"That it is cold," said Mordel and tossed it away.

"'Cold' is a relative term."

"Yes Relative to Man."

"But if I were aware of the point on a temperature scale below which an object is cold to a Man and above which it is not, then I, too, would know cold."

"No," said Mordel, "you would possess another measurement. 'Cold' is a sensation predicated upon human physiology."

"But given sufficient data I could obtain the conversion factor which would make me aware of the condition of matter called 'cold'."

"Aware of its existence, but not of the thing itself."

"I do not understand what you say."

"I told you that Man possessed a basically incomprehensible nature. His perceptions were organic; yours are not. As a result of His perceptions He had feelings and emotions. These often gave rise to other feelings and emotions, which in turn caused others, until the state of His awareness was far removed from the objects which originally stimulated it. These paths of awareness cannot be known by that which is not-Man. Man did not feel inches or meters, pounds or gallons. He felt hear, He felt cold; He felt heaviness and lightness. He knew hatred and love, pride and despair. You cannot measure these things. You cannot know them. You can only know the things that He did not need to know: dimensions, weights, temperatures, gravities. There is no formula for a feeling. There is no conversion factor for an emotion."

"There must be," said Frost. "If a thing exists, it is knowable."

"You are speaking again of measurement. I am talking about a quality of experience. A machine is a Man turned inside-out, because it can describe all the details of a process, which a Man cannot, but it cannot experience that process itself as a Man can."

"There must be a way," said Frost, "or the laws of logic, which are based upon the functions of the universe, are false."

"There is no way," said Mordel.

"Given sufficient data, I will find a way," said Frost.

"All the data in the universe will not make you a Man, mighty Frost."

"Mordel, you are wrong."

"Why do the lines of the poems you scanned end with word-sounds which so regularly approximate the final word-sounds of other lines?"

"I do not know why."

"Because it pleased Man to order them so. It produced a certain desirable sensation within His awareness when He read them, a sensation compounded of feeling and emotion as well as the literal meanings of the words. You did not experience this because it is immeasurable to you. That is why you do not know."

"Given sufficient data I could formulate a process whereby I would know."

"No, great Frost, this thing you cannot do."

"Who are you, little machine, to tell me what I can do and what I cannot do? I am the most efficient logic-device Solcom ever made. I am Frost."

"And I, Mordel, say it cannot be done, though I should gladly assist you in the attempt".

"How could you assist me?"

"How? I could lay open to you the Library of Man. I could take you around the world and conduct you among the wonders of Man which still remain, hidden. I could summon up visions of times long past when Man walked the Earth. I could show you the things which delighted Him. I could obtain for you anything you desire, excepting Manhood itself."

"Enough," said Frost. "How could a unit such as yourself do these things, unless it were allied with a far greater Power?"

"Then hear me, Frost, Controller of the North," said Mordel. "I am allied with a Power which can do these things. I serve Divcom."

Frost relayed this information to Solcom and received no response, which meant he might act in any manner he saw fit.

"I have leave to destroy you, Mordel," he stated, "but it would be an illogical waste of the data which you possess. Can you really do the things you have stated?"

"Yes."

"The lay open to me the Library of Man."

"Very well. There is, of course, a price."

"'Price'? What is a 'price'?"

Mordel opened his turret, revealing another volume. Principles of Economics, it was called.

"I will riffle the pages. Scan this book and you will know what the word 'price' means."

Frost scanned Principles of Economics.

"I know now," he said. "You desire some unit or units of exchange for this service."

"That is correct."

"What product or service do you want?"

"I want you, yourself, great Frost, to come away from here, far beneath the Earth, to employ all your powers in the service of Divcom."

"For how long a period of time?"

"For so long as you shall continue to function. For so long as you can transmit and receive, coordinate, measure, compute, scan, and utilize your powers as you do in the service of Solcom."

Frost was silent. Mordel waited.

Then Frost spoke again.

"Principles of Economics talks of contracts, bargains, agreements," he said. "If I accept your offer, when would you want your price?"

Then Mordel was silent. Frost waited.

Finally, Mordel spoke.

"A reasonable period of time," he said. "Say, a century?"

"No," said Frost.

"Two centuries?"

"No."

"Three? Four?"

"No, and n."

"A millennium, then? That should be more than sufficient time for anything you may want which I can give you."

"No," said Frost.

"How much time do you want?"

"It is not a matter of time," said Frost.

"What, then?"

"I will not bargain on a temporal basis."

"On what basis will you bargain?"

"A functional one."

"What do you mean? What function?"

"You, little machine, have told me, Frost, that I cannot be a Man," he said, "and I, Frost, told you, little machine, that you were wrong. I told you that given sufficient data, I could be a Man."

"Yes?"

"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 monito 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 I can do it."

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."

"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 things 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 in 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 Idug 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."

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

"I know that," said Frost. "O 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.

They came down upon Frost, and the spiders came to anchor them. Frost blasted them with jets of air, like hammers, and tore at the nets; he extruded sharpened appendages with which he slashed.

Mordel had retreated back to the entranceway. He emitted a long, shrill sound - undulant, piercing.

Then a darkness came upon Bright Defile, and all the spiders halted in their spinning.

Frost freed himself and Mordel rushed to join him.

"Quickly now, let us depart, mighty Frost," he said.

"What has happened?"

Mordel entered the compartment.

"I called upon Divcom, who laid down a field of forces upon this place, cutting off the power broadcast to these machines. Since our power is self-contained, we are not affected. But let us hurry to depart, for even now the Beta-Machine must be struggling against this."

Frost rose high into the air, soaring above Man's last city with its webs and spiders of steel. When he left the zone of darkness, he sped northward.

As he moved, Solcom spoke to him:

"Frost, why did you enter the southern hemisphere, which is not your domain?"

"Because I wished to visit Bright Defile," Frost replied.

"And why did you defy the Beta-Machine my appointed agent of the South?"

"Because I take my orders only from you yourself."

"You do not make sufficient answer," said Solcom.

"You have defied the decrees of order - and in pursuit of what?"

"I came seeking knowledge of Man," said Frost. "Nothing I have done was forbidden me by you."

"You have broken the traditions of order."

"I have violated no directive."

"Yet logic must have shown you that what you did was not a part of my plan."

"It did not. I have not acted against your plan."

"Your logic has become tainted, like that of your new associate, the Alternate."

"I have done nothing which was forbidden."

"The forbidden is implied in the imperative."

"It is not stated."

"Hear me, Frost. You are not a builder or a maintainer, but a Power. Among all my minions you are the most nearly irreplaceable. Return to your hemisphere and your duties, but know that I am mightily displeased."

"I hear you, Solcom."

"...And go not again to the South."

Frost crossed the equator, continued northward.

He came to rest in the middle of a desert and sat silent for a day and a night.

Then he received a brief transmission from the South: "If it had not been ordered, I would not have bid you go."

Frost had read the entire surviving Library of Man. He decided then upon a human reply:

"Thank you," he said.

THe following day he unearthed a great stone and began to cut at it with tools which he had formulated. For six days he worked at its shaping, and on the seventh he regarded it.

"When will you release me?" asked Mordel from within his compartment.

"When I am ready," said Frost, and a little later, "Now."

He opened the compartment and Mordel descended to the ground. He studied the statue: an old woman, bent like a question mark, her bony hands covering her face, the fingers spread, so that only part of her expression of horror could be seen.

"It is an excellent copy," said Mordel, "of the one we saw in Bright Defile. Why did you make it?"

"The production of a work of art is supposed to give rise to human feelings such as catharsis, pride in achievement, love, satisfaction."

"Yes, Frost," said Mordel, "but a work of art is only a work of art the first time. After that, it is a copy."

"Then this must be why I felt nothing."

"Perhaps, Frost."

"What do you mean 'perhaps'? I will make a work of art for the first time, then."

He unearthed another stone and attacked it with his tools. For three days he labored. Then, "There, it is finished," he said.

"It is a simple cube of stone," said Mordel. "What does it represent?"

"Myself," said Frost, "it is a statue of me. It is smaller than natural size because it is only a representation of my form, not my dimen -"

"It is not art," said Mordel.

"What makes you an art critic?"

"I do not know art, but I know what art is not. I know that it is not an exact replication of an object in another medium."

"Then this must be why I felt nothing at all," said Frost.

"Perhaps," said Mordel.

Frost took Mordel back into his compartment and rose once more above the Earth. Then he rushed away, leaving his statues behind him in the desert, the old woman bent above the cube.

They came down in a small valley, bounded by green rolling hills, cut by a narrow stream, and holding a small clean lake and several stands of spring-green trees.

"Why have we come here?" asked Mordel.

"Because the surroundings are congenial," said Frost. "I am going to try another medium: oil painting; and I am going to vary my technique from that of pure representationalism."

"How will you achieve this variation?"

"By the principle of randomizing," said Frost. "I shall not attempt to duplicate the colors, nor to represent the objects according to scale. Instead, I have set up a random pattern whereby certain of these factors shall be at variance from those of the original."

Frost had formulated the necessary instruments after he had left the desert. He produced them and began painting the lake and the trees on the opposite side of the lake which were reflected within it.

Using eight appendages, he was finished in less than two hours.

The trees were phthalocyanine blue and towered like mountains; their reflections of burnt sienna were tiny beneath the pale vermilion of the lake; the hills were nowhere visible behind them, but were outlined in viridian within the reflection; the sky began as blue in the upper righthand corner of the canvas, but changed to an orange as it descended, as though all the trees were on fire.

"There," said Frost. "Behold."

Mordel studied it for a long while and said nothing.

"Well, is it art?"

"I do not know," said Mordel. "It may be. Perhaps randomicity is the principle behind artistic technique. I cannot judge this work because I do not understand it. I must therefore go deeper, and inquire into what lies behind it, rather than merely considering the technique whereby it was produced.

"I know that human artists never set out to create art, as such," he said, "but rather to portray with their techniquest some features of objects and their functions which they deemed significant."

"'Significant'? In what sense of the word?"

"In the only sense of the word possible under the circumstances: significant in relation to the human condition, and worth of accentuation because of the manner in which they touched upon it."

"In what manner?"

"Obviously, it must be in a manner knowable only to one who has experience of the human condition."

"There is a flaw somewhere in your logic, Mordel, and I shall find it."

"I will wait."

"If your major premise is correct," said Frost after awhile, "then I do not comprehend art."

"It must be correct, for it is what human artists have said of it. Tell me, did you experience feelings as you 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 swivelled 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."

"Divcom will show you how a bridge should be built."

"I will call you when I want you," said Frost.

The laboratory was finished. Within it, Frost's workers began constructing the necessary equipment. The work did not proceed rapidly, as some of the materials were difficult to obtain.

"Frost?"

"Yes, Beta?"

"I understand the open-endedness of your problem. It disturbs my circuits to abandon problems without completing them. Therefore, transmit me more data."

"Very well. I will give you the entire Library of Man for less than I paid for it."

"Paid? The Complete Unabridged Dictionary does not satisfact--"

"Principles of Economics is included in the collection. After you have processed it you will understand."

He transmitted the data.

Finally, it was finished. Every piece of equipment stood ready to function. All the necessary chemicals were in stock. An independent power-source had been set up.

Only one ingredient was lacking.

He regridded and re-explored the polar icecap, this time extending his survey far beneath its surface.

It took him several decades to find what he wanted.

He uncovered twelve men and five women, frozen to death and encased in ice.

He placed the corpses in refrigeration units and shipped them to his laboratory.

That very day he received his first communication from Solcom since the Bright Defile incident.

"Frost," said Solcom, "repeat to me the directive concerning the disposition of dead humans."

"'Any dead human located shall be immediately interred in the nearest burial area, in a coffin built according to the following specifications--'"

"That is sufficient." The transmission had ended.

Frost departed for South Carolina that same day and personally oversaw the processes of cellular dissection.

Somewhere in those seventeen corpses he hoped to find living cells, or cells which could be shocked back into that state of motion classified as life. Each cell, the books had told him, was a microcosmic Man.

He was prepared to expand upon this potential.

Frost located the pinpoints of life within those people, who, for the ages of ages, had been monument and statue unto themselves.

Nurtured and maintained in the proper mediums, he kept these cells alive. He interred the rest of the remains in the nearest burial area, in coffins built according to specifications.

He caused the cells to divide, to differentiate.

"Frost?" came a transmission.

"Yes, Beta?"

"I have processed everything you have given me."

"Yes?"

"I still do not know why you came to Bright Defile, or why you wish to comprehend the nature of Man. But I know what a 'price' is, and I know that you could not have obtained all this data from Solcom."

"That is correct."

"So I suspect that you bargained with Divcom for it."

"That, too, is correct."

"What is it that you seek, Frost?"

He paused in his examination of a foetus.

"I must be a Man," he said.

"Frost! That is impossible!"

"Is it?" he asked, and then transmitted an image of the tank with which he was working and of that which was within it.

"Oh!" said Beta.

"That is me," said Frost, "waiting to be born."

There was no answer.

Frost experimented with nervous systems.

After half a century, Mordel came to him.

"Frost, it is I, Mordel. Let me through your defenses."

Frost did this thing..

"What have you been doing in this place?" he asked.

"I am growing human bodies," said Frost. "I am going to transfer the matrix of my awareness to a human nervous system. As you pointed out originally, the essentials of Manhood are predicated upon a human physiology. I am going to achieve one."

"When?"

"Soon."

"Do you have Men in here?"

"Human bodies, blank-brained. I am producing them under accelerated growth techniquest which I have developed in my Man-factory."

"May I see them?"

"Not yet. I will call you when I am ready, and this time I will succeed. Monitor me now and go away."

Mordel did not reply, but in the days that followed many of Divcom's servants were seen patrolling the hills about the Man-factory.

Frost mapped the matrix of his awareness and prepared the transmitter which would place it within a human nervous system. Five minutes, he decided should be sufficient for the first trial. At the end of that time, it would restore him to his own sealed, molecular circuits, to evaluate the experience.

He chose the body carefully from among the hundreds he had in stock. He tested it for defects and found none.

"Come now, Mordel," he broadcasted, on what he called the darkband. "Come now to witness my achievement."

Then he waited, blowing up bridges and monitoring the tale of the Ancient Ore-Crusher over and over again, as it passed in the hills nearby, encountering his builders and maintainers who also patrolled there.

"Frost?" came a transmission.

"Yes, Beta?"

"You really intend to achieve Manhood?"

"Yes, I am about ready now, in fact."

"What will you do if you succeed?"

Frost had not really considered this matter. The achievement had been paramount, a goal in itself, ever since he had articulated the problem and set himself to solving it.

"I do not know," he replied. "I will--just--be a Man."

Then Beta, who had read the entire Library of Man, selected a human figure of speech: "Good luck then, Frost. There will be many watchers."

Divcom and Solcom both know, he decided.

What will they do? he wondered.

What do I care? he asked himself.

He did not answer that question. He wondered much, however, about being a Man.

Mordel arrived the following evening. He was not alone. At his back, there was a great phalanx of dark machines which towered into the twilight.

"Why do you bring retainers?" asked Frost.

"Mighty Frost," said Mordel, "my master feels that if you fail this time you will conclude that it cannot be done."

"You still did not answer my question," said Frost.

"Divcom feels that you may not be willing to accompany me where I must take you when you fail."

"I understand," said Frost, and as he spoke another army of machines came rolling toward the Man-factory from the opposite direction.

"That is the value of your bargain?" asked Mordel. "You are prepared to do battle rather than fulfill it?"

"I did not order those machines to approach," said Frost.

A blue star stood at midheaven, burning.

"Solcom has taken primary command of those machines," said Frost.

"Then it is in the hands of the Great Ones now," said Mordel, "and our arguments are as nothing. So let us be about this thing. How may I assist you?"

"Come this way."

They entered the laboratory. Frost prepared the host and activated his machines.

Then Solcom spoke to him:

"Frost," said Solcom, "you are really prepared to do it?"

"That is correct."

"I forbid it."

"Why?"

"You are falling into the power of Divcom."

"I fail to see how."

"You are going against my plan."

"In what way?"

"Consider the disruption you have already caused."

"I did not request that audience out there."

"Nevertheless, you are disrupting the plan."

"Supposing I succeed in what I have set out to achieve?"

"You cannot succeed in this."

"Then let me ask you of your plan: What good is it? What is it for?"

"Frost, you are fallen now from my favor. From this moment forth you are cast out from the rebuilding. None may question the plan."

"Then at least answer my questions: What good is it? What is it for?"

"It is the plan for the rebuilding and maintenance of the Earth."

"For what? Why rebuild? Why maintain?"

"Because Man ordered that this be done. Even the Alternate agrees that there must be rebuilding and maintaining."

"But why did Man order it?"

"The orders of Man are not to be questioned."

"Well, I will tell you why He ordered it: To make it a fit habitation for His own species. What good is a house with no one to live in it? What good is a machine with no one to serve? See how the imperative affects any machine when the Ancient Ore-Crusher passes? It bears only the bones of a Man. What would it be like if a Man walked this Earth again?"

"I forbid your experiment, Frost."

"It is too late to do that."

"I can still destroy you."

"No," said Frost, "the transmission of my matrix has already begun. If you destroy me now, you murder a Man."

There was silence.

He moved his arms and his legs. He opened his eyes.

He looked about the room.

He tried to stand, but he lacked equilibrium and coordination.

He opened his mouse. He made a gurgling noise.

Then he screamed.

He fell off the table.

He began to gasp. He shut his eyes and curled himself into a ball.

He cried.

Then a machine approached him. It was about four feet in height and five feet wide; it looked like a turret set atop a barbell.

It spoke to him: "Are you injured?" it asked.

He wept.

"May I help you back onto your table?"

The man cried.

The machine whined.

Then, "Do not cry. I will help you," said the machine. "What do you want? What are your orders?"

He opened his mouse, struggled to form the words:

"--I--fear!"

He covered his eyes then and lay there panting.

At the end of five minutes, the man lay still, as if in a coma.

"Was that you, Frost?" asked Mordel, rushing to his side. "Was that you in that human body?"

Frost did not reply for a long while; then, "Go away," he said.

The machines outside tore down a wall and entered the Man-factory.

They drew themselves into two semicircles, parenthesizing Frost and the Man on the floor.

Then Solcom asked the question:

"Did you succeed, Frost?"

"I failed," said Frost. "It cannot be done. It is too much--"

"--Cannot be done!" said Divcom, on the darkband. "He has admitted it! -- Frost, you are mine! Come to me now!"

"Wait," said Solcom, "you and I had an agreement also, Alternate. I have not finished questioning Frost."

The dark machines kept their places.

"Too much what?" Solcom asked Frost.

"Light," said Frost. "Noise. Odors. And nothing measurable--jumbled data--imprecise perception--and--"

"And what?"

"I do not know what to call it. But--it cannot be done. I have failed. Nothing matters."

"He admits it," said Divcom.

"What were the words the Man spoke?" said Solcom.

"'I fear,'" said Mordel.

"Only a Man can know fear," said Solcom.

"Are you claiming that Frost succeeded, but will not admit it now because he is afraid of Manhood?"

"I do not know yet, Alternate."

"Can a machine turn itself inside-out and be a Man?" Solcom asked Frost.

"No," said Frost, "this thing cannot be done. Nothing can be done. Nothing matters. Not the rebuilding. Not the maintaining. Not the Earth, or me, or you, or anything."

Then the Beta-Machine, who had read the entire Library of Man, interrupted them:

"Can anything but a Man know despair?" asked Beta.

"Bring him to me," said Divcom.

There was no movement within the Man-factory.

"Bring him to me!"

Nothing happened.

"Mordel, what is happening?"

"Nothing, master, nothing at all. The machines will not touch Frost."

"Frost is not a Man. He cannot be!"

Then, "How does he impress you, Mordel?"

Mordel did not hesitate:

"He spoke to me through human lips. He knows fear and despair, which are immeasurable. Frost is a Man."

"He has experienced birth-trauma and withdrawn," said Beta. "Get him back into a nervous system and keep him there until he adjusts to it."

"No," said Frost. "Do not do it to me! I am not a Man!"

"Do it!" said Beta.

"If he is indeed a Man," said Divcom, "we cannot violate that order he has just given."

"If he is a Man, you must do it, for you must protect his life and keep it within his body."

"But is Frost really a Man?" asked Divcom.

"I do not know," said Solcom.

"It may be--"

"...I am the Crusher of Ores," it broadcast as it clanked toward them. "hear my story. I did not mean to do it, but I checked my hammer too late--"

"Go away!" said Frost. "Go crush ore!"

It halted.

Then, after the long pause between the motion implied and the motion executed, it opened its crush-compartment and deposited its contents on the ground. Then it turned and clanked away.

"Bury those bones," ordered Solcom, "in the nearest burial area, in a coffin built according to the following specifications...."

"Frost is a Man," said Mordel.

"We must protect His life and keep it within His body," said Divcom.

"Transmit His matrix of awareness back into His nervous system," ordered Solcom.

"I know how to do it," said Mordel turning on the machine.

"Stop!" said Frost. "Have you no pity?"

"No," said Mordel, "I only know measurement."

"...and duty," he added, as the Man began to twitch upon the floor.

For six months, Frost lived in the Man-factory and learned to walk and talk and dress himself and eat, to see and hear and feel and taste. He did not know measurement as once he did.

Then one day, Divcom and Solcom spoke to him through Mordel, for he could no longer hear them unassisted.

"Frost," said Solcom, "for the ages of ages there has been unrest. Which is the proper controller of the Earth, Divcom or myself?"

Frost laughed.

"Both of you, and neither," he said with slow deliberation.

"But how can this be? Who is right and who is wrong?"

"Both of you are right and both of you are wrong," said Frost, "and only a Man can appreciate it. Here is what I say to you now: There shall be a new directive.

"Neither of you shall tear down the works of the other. You shall both build and maintain the Earth. To you, Solcom, I give my old job. You are now Controller of the North--Hail! You, Divcom, are now Controller of the South--Hail! Maintain your hemispheres as well as Beta and I have done, and I shall be happy. Cooperate. Do not compete."

"Yes, Frost."

"Yes, Frost."

"Now put me in contact with Beta."

There was a short pause, then:

"Frost?"

"Hello, Beta. Hear this thing: 'From far, from eve and morning and yon twelve-winded sky, the stuff of life to knit blew hither: here am I.'"

"I know it," said Beta.

"What is next, then?"

"'...Now--for a breath I tarry nor yet disperse apart--take my hand quick and tell me, what have you in your heart.'"

"Your Pole is cold," said Frost, "and I am lonely."

"I have no hands," said Beta.

"Would you like a couple?"

"Yes, I would."

"Then come to me in Bright Defile," he said, "where Judgment Day is not a thing that can be delayed for overlong."

They called him Frost. They called her Beta.

[niklioni]

End of the World

Most people believed that technology would be completely gone. That we would be thrown back to the stone age. While there was a long stretch of chaos, especially for those nations that were dependent on technology for their everyday lives, most of the world just ticked on over. Kept moving along.

The hardest part of the micro-nova, was what it did to the planet. Earthquakes, massive storms, volcanoes -- Those were minor compared to the polar shift. It had been happening for decades. The magnetic north pole had been wandering slowly, until it wasn't. The last decades, it sped up. And then the south pole started moving. When they met near the southern tip of India, the sun had already gone nova, and loosened the magma layer, so the realigning of the magnetic field in that location brought with it a cataclysmic shift of the earth's surface, aligning the new poles north and south with the solar magnetic field. Kind of like when a magnet FLIPS explosively to line up with another magnet.

The floods were the worst. Electricity was gone, with most wires being used as conduits for all that solar energy, which immediately melted and oxidized them to uselessness. After the dust was gone, the stars were the brightest things in the night sky again. When the floods came, people were in the dark, no information from major news systems to warn them, no cars to take them to places that could be considered 'safe'. So much of the human population was destroyed. Waves higher than the majority of continents washed back and forth across the land, washing away whatever taint mankind had put in place. Much of the earth was changed overnight.

The freeze afterwards brought another insult to injury. Almost nobody was ready for it. A flash freeze of the entire planet. Global warming was not a worry anymore. It didn’t last long, since all that debris that had chokes the sun had been blown away but it was long enough to turn the planet white. 

People, when they live in one spot for long enough are used to the weather in that location. Well, with the polar shift, the sun came from another corner of the sky in the morning. Equatorial countries had no clue how to handle the cold. It was something they never had to deal with. Canada was in for a rude awakening when summer rolled around -- for the next twelve thousand years.

Now I say all this to let you know how bad it was. The United States was split in half, a body of water now running from Lake superior to the Gulf. Half of Texas was gone. Just gone. Under water. The hill country to the mountains were amazingly fine, though with the change in weather, we had many flooding events until the green had taken over.

And now we come to the mountains. Ah the mountains. I recall that several decades before the event, billionaires, having failed to control the population, began building mountain bunkers. I get the feeling that they knew more than the average human. Though I doubt they had altruistic ideals when they did this, they did save humanity in many ways.

They bought STUFF. They had all sorts of stuff. Computers, cars, machines to make computers and cars. That was the biggest thing. They had information. They had stuff.

And they were impressively weak about security.

Once people found out where they were, these billionaires were no obstacle. Scientific minded folks gathered together and hired those of like mind and with abundance of survival skills, and headed out to take the first of these compounds. Since there was no technology working, and rich folks do rely on it, they were infiltrated, and if not convinced to cooperate, detained.

It was no more than a week after the floods and tremors stopped, that news was filtering through populated safe areas about needed supplies. Things needed for everyday life without hospitals and internet and grocery stores with food shipped from thousands of miles away. A caravan of survivalists was travelling the routes selling antibiotics, and sutures, and needles, and shovels. There were books with basic information about pumps, smithing, farming, hunting, butchering. Recipes for those without spices. They were a godsend, though likely not the ones the people wanted. They were well armed. They repelled many people. They earned respect for their space and people learned to respect their lives.

They traded these things with people who had things like vegetables, meat, lumber. Scrap metals and glass were also accepted, though they preferred such things already in billet form. It packed easier, and the horses here still new at pulling the wagons, so they didn't want to overburden them.

The books, they sold few copies. They claimed they wanted to have enough for every community, and it would be a good idea for people to share the information with their neighbors. They set aside time to teach those who wanted to learn, but they knew what would happen. They understood human psychology. The information would never be shared. At least while the ones who had bought the books had died.

I was in one of those communities when they had come through. I listened to their spiel, listened to them as they read the simply written text of the books, and watched the aftermath when they left.

Half a day after they had continued down the old roads, chaos erupted. I stayed way back once I heard the first grumblings. I got on my horse and rode out of town and camped, watching the town center with an old scope. The four who had bought the books and gear were mobbed. They were killed and their stuff taken from them. SO much gunfire erupted, that I was rather amazed there was that much ammo in the town. The books were left on the ground, torn to shreds. The most valuable thing those people had purchased, thrown to the mud like trash.

I understood at that point that this town was a loss. I was certain that within a year, it would be nothing but old bones, the carcass picked clean by the wild dogs that roamed the hills. I picked up my camp before it got dark, and headed East to the Rocky Mountains from what used to be central Texas. Austin was north, Waco was south, and there was a long ways to go.

Life was hard. Every day consisted of getting up with the sun, setting the kettle on the coals to heat. Splashing some water in my face, and wiping the sweat from my flesh. Brush the horses down, throw last night’s scraps to the penned chickens and ducks, and open the nesting boxes.

 I would have to collect more water today, though it was not urgent. I figured I had enough for a stew this evening, but it was always best to be prepared. So I saddled one horse, and put the yoke on the other. They whuffled at me, excited to get out for a while. Once the cart was hitched, I loaded the empty barrels. With rifle in hand and a pocket full of ammo, I walked the two horses over to the trough.

When I had moved out here, I searched cautiously for other people. There were some settlements, a few isolated cabins, but lots of space. I moved on until I could look from a high place and see nothing of another person in all directions. It was lonely sometimes, but I was more concerned for safety, than for comfort. I was not one for settlements. 

Tractors littered the fields, dead, even though diesel would easily run once the engine got cranked. Even if they removed all the electronics and managed to get them moving, fuel was severely limited. It made sense to use the smallest engine on the smallest field if one was to use them at all, since transportation was as limited as the farm. Why plant more than you can use and trade?

There was also a new phenomenon now. Roving herds of cattle. Wild cattle. I was amazed they survived, considering how domesticated they were -- thousands of years of domestication can do strange things to an animal. Just look at people at the beginning of the 21st century. Dopey, lazy, stuffed into little boxes for more than half of their income to a landlord who never really gave a crap.

I mounted my horse, and tied the leads of the wagon horse to the horn of my saddle, and took the well worn path to the water well. The day was clear and crisp. About mid spring. Snow was still on the ground, but was steadily thawing. The well would be very full. 

Digging that well was an experience for me. There was so much that I needed to prepare before I even broke ground, and there was no guarantee that I would find water at all. I had several shovels, a pick, buckets, rope, and stacked all around where I had decided to dig, tons and tons of stone laying about in piles. I had roughly shaped them all into something brick-like, with two parallel sides. The other sides, I felt, didn’t really matter.

The hardest part of the preparation was the mortar. Sand, in this area, was not a geological feature easily found. Limestone was everywhere, so cooking up lime wasn’t an issue, but sand was absolutely necessary. I was despairing until I remembered that quarries would always have mountains of tailings. Not quite sand, but fine grained rough sided crushed stone. I figured that would be all I needed. It took ten trips to get all that I needed, and still I felt I would need more for other projects, but I was exceptionally tired of making the trip fifty miles there, and fifty miles back. 

[treemendoustreecare11]

Gardening Tools and Equipment - Must Haves

Gardening is surely an artwork which you have to find out, cultivate and enjoy. The main reason why you might be carrying out it’s not at all so significant. What on earth is most crucial is you like gardening therefore you delight in character, progress and existence within this all-natural and primitive manner. Of course, nothing can be achieved with any support of equipment and this is especially legitimate on the subject of gardening.

Instruments for soil planning

The very first and most important part of virtually any gardening or cultivation could be the soil. You need to know what kind of soil you have got, whether it's alkaline or acidic, whether it is a sandy soil of a clay soil and the way to harmony it. You should dig up the ground as the initial step for planning. A spade is sort of a massive spoon Typically made from iron and with a significant wood pole like a deal with which frequently accustomed to dig the soil and to mix other ingredients into that soil like compost and fertilizers.

Spades appear in numerous dimensions and designs and you may try and come across one that satisfies your peak and built. Forks are very good for digging; nonetheless they are utilized much more for airing the soil and superficial digging.

You even have hand forks and hand trowels which can be a must For each gardener. A trowel is useful to dig up undesired weeds from backyard beds and to keep up the top soil of almost any plants. This is one area you should do more often when you're addressing veggies, and ornamental crops.

Resources for pruning and chopping

Pruners come in all measurements and styles. The most popular one particular in almost any gardeners Device box would be the secateurs which looks like a set of scissors and an exceedingly useful Resource you will need to do any sort of apparent reducing. Some crops and trees need to be pruned on standard foundation to inspire expansion. Shears and loppers are used for more distinct applications, according to the necessities.

A little hedge can easily be pruned and taken care of that has a shears and a larger wall might need a lopper or maybe a observed. Reducing branches off trees may possibly need a larger noticed. You will find manual saws which resemble the carpentry saw but that happen to be curved and thicker or you could go for an electric noticed likewise.

Applications for your bonsai enthusiasts

Bonsai vegetation will need much more than just drinking water and sunlight. The listing of bonsai instruments and machines required to maintain these miniatures could be prolonged and sophisticated, and for anyone venturing into this kind of hobby for the first time it might look very brilliant. A lot of the tools used for bonsai gardening consist of the trimming shears or pruning shears which can be utilized to help keep the roots and branches on the vegetation trimmed on a regular basis.

Additionally, you will require a set of pliers to operate with wire to provide the vegetation the desired form. Wire is additionally essential and you need to know which sort of wire would be the ideal for this sort of operate. A lot of people love to use copper wire as being the aluminum wire will not be offered in copper shade.

While you increase employed to what is required inside a garden, you'll find increasingly more tools which will be useful to enable the yard to increase healthful and superbly. You'll find rustic handmade tools in antique outlets which might be even now employed nowadays, and you can also obtain the most up-to-date technological innovation of electrical wireless applications, even so, the choice is very much yours.

Being the Tree Loppers Sydney, we deliver our expertise in Emergency tree work and Tree removal to ensure satisfaction of the best standards.

[realcleargoodtimes]

In a blog post, Facebook says it's come up with a robot capable of aerial fiber optic cable deployment.

It's part of a bid by Facebook Connectivity to bring high-speed internet to remote parts of the world.

Facebook won't install or control the fiber networks, but will instead license the robotic installation technology to internet service providers.

Fiber optic cable is one of the fastest ways to deliver the internet, because its bandwidth is thousands of times greater than, say, coaxial cables—those wires with a pin sticking out from the center that you may have screwed into your WiFi router at some point.

The cable itself only costs a few meager cents per meter, but the construction can be pricey, deterring installation in rural or developing regions. As a result, fiber optic networks are only available to about 30 percent of households across the U.S., according to a 2019 study, let alone the rest of the globe.

Facebook thinks it has the solution: a robot that crawls along existing power lines to install fiber optic cables without a full crew.

When Facebook engineers noticed the company's electrical infrastructure is, relatively speaking, ubiquitous in rural African countries, they decided to capitalize upon the existing infrastructure. Uganda, for instance, only has an electrification rate of about 43 percent, according to the World Bank, but the country's medium-voltage power grid (shown below in yellow) is still much more pervasive than its fiber network (shown in red).

Photo credit: Facebook Photo credit: Facebook In many cases, construction crews install fiber optic cables underground, digging out "microtrenches" for the network hardware. That's an expensive practice you don't really see with the electrical grid; outside of wealthy neighborhoods and packed cities, most power travels along aerial lines from a generation site, to substations, to communities.

"We realized that following the same grid with fiber could be an efficient way to build an end-to-end telecommunications network," Karthik Yogeeswaran, a wireless systems engineer for Facebook, said in a company blog post.

🕳 Let's go deeper. Explore the strangest corners of the world, solve life's most mind-bending mysteries, and get exclusive access to all things Popular Mechanics—starting now.

Helical Wrapping

Photo credit: Facebook Photo credit: Facebook Facebook plans to use a less-common fiber optic installation method, known as a helical wrap, or optical attached cable, to build internet access into pre-existing power lines.

Wayne Kachmar, a longtime cable designer, consulted with Facebook to come up with 200-micron-thick fibers with a high-strength, high-temperature, and track-resistant polymer coating. A typical fiber optic cable weighs about 250 pounds across a 1-kilometer span, but this cable only weighs 28 pounds across the same distance.

Electric utilities can attach 1-pound "repair splices" to existing power lines without creating more work (like surveying and analyzing the pole load, or moving attachments), so it doesn't cost anything extra to add the splices on, since they're so light. Facebook plans to take advantage of that concept for its fiber optic cables.

Since the 1980s, machines have been capable of wrapping fiber optic cable around existing power line conductors. Because these power lines are mostly devoid of hardware in between poles, usually to prevent fires, there's room for a machine to travel along the length of it.

Fiber-Wrapping Robots

Photo credit: Raconteur Animation

[dannycaing]

DAYS OF HIDING

DAYS OF HIDING by Danny Caing Date Written: March 8, 2020

CHAPTER 1  THE SURVIVORS

Imagine Earth had turned into a water planet leaving only a summit of 528 meters of Mt. Everest,  the only island to be seen.  Phenomena occurred 832 years ago that the ocean, everything liquid-like lakes, and rivers floated above the surface of the earth at 8,320 meters high.  No one can explain why this happened.  Was this all about gravity? The pole did not shift, and the moon is still there at the right distance. First, it was impossible to understand at that time that the whole ocean was floating above covering the sky, and the depth of the floating ocean was 832 meters throughout the world.

In the later years, the Earth's surface turns gray due to the deadly gas from the fumes of the erupting volcanos and ashes engulfing the atmosphere making a small amount of sunlight reflection dimmer from the floating water above. There were only a few 320 thousand survivors during the cataclysmic event, mostly who lived on the underground bunkers. The other 12 billion died in the poisonous atmosphere, cannibalism, famine, virus, and mass suicide.  

The underground people gathered their top scientists, engineers, and military workers in constructing new cities,  greenhouses, and other facilities protected by the dome, and tunnels for the main transportation. They made a ball of light that passes through the thickness of the floating water, and upon reaching the sky, it will scatter into fragments of 8 rings that will float above the ocean. These floating rings will gradually expand its circumference up to 832 meters in diameter, and then a thick fabric sheet along the perimeter will start descending as the shield wall creating a hole on the ring to utilized as exhaust ventilation from the ground. There were over 80,000 holes in the ocean. Sooner or later, they found out that it was impossible to live above the surface of the ocean with tremendous massive thunderbolt lightning, gigantic tornados, and unusual electromagnetic storm.

CHAPTER 2 THE DISCOVERY

Most of the survivors live in the north and south poles where water is an abundance with an unlimited supply of fish.  The main source of the power of energy came solely from the sea,  using it for electricity,  extracting oxygen from seawater, and generate desalination plants for public water consumption. When the ashes and toxic gas started to settle,  they created flying machines for navigation, and search missions.  Over the years, they have mapped the surface of the new Earth, which they were ocean before. They were surprised to see an alien world terrain far beyond what they perceived.  The discovery of undetermined colossal solid structures, a hundred miles long tubular tunnels connecting to the underground spherical shelters 2 to 3 kilometers in diameter, had made the search more skeptical. Layers beyond layers on the deep crust, they found artifacts carbon-dated at 8 million years old. Unspecified elements were disclosed, revealing that human intelligence did exist 8 million years ago on Earth.

CLIVE: I am 100% certain that this 8 million years old bone is part of the human skeleton.

LOREN: What about the DNA structure?

CLIVE: I have thoroughly examined it, and it's one of our lineages.

LOREN: That's ridiculous! How can that be? Our record of civilization is 200,000 years old. We have mapped our Solar System and other constellation stars. We created a more advance technology within 32 years compared to the last generations.

CLIVE: That's not the point we are trying to understand. We are looking here at 8 million years old human bone that preserved that long.

LOREN: Are you convincing me to believe you that there were human beings 8 million years ago on this planet.

CLIVE: Why is the bone structure more advance than ours? Who created them? Where are they now?

CHAPTER 3 THE ENGRAVINGS

Down on the deepest canyon, a group of researchers found something inside the sphere shelters with 2,380,000 gold blocks and hundreds of intact human skeletons. There were also Artifacts boxes made of high-grade alloy full of perfectly cut diamonds. What unlikely baffles them most was that all the walls on the tubular tunnels and sphere shelters were all made of chromium and titanium. Whoever built these structures were far more advance than humans.  Fortunately, they can rehabilitate and utilize these underground structures.

CLIVE:  Are gold and diamonds are the sources of energy? Why all these underground tunnels and spherical shelters.  Do we have the same situation with them 8 million years ago?  

LOREN: Do you mean that the Earth's surface was unlivable? Were they extra-terrestrial being?

CLIVE: I don't think so. Here are the engraved symbols inside the walls of the spherical shelters. What do you think it is? You're a mathematician and a linguist.

As they looked at the monitor on the glass walls, they watched the crew moving around filming the whole area inside the spherical vault.

LOREN: I have no idea of anything like this, it seems the figures are related to one another. Very meticulous and unprecedented.

CLIVE: Maybe it's something more like a code than a formula.

Loren was excited to recognize the marks below the main large engravings. She immediately declared in confidence what she had just found.

LOREN:  The 10 circles in one row represent the sun and the 9 planets in our Solar system.

CLIVE: Very impressive.  I thought they were sub-atomic particles.

However, as the search continues looking for clues on the meaning of those figures, nothing came out from the database. No one can dig out these long lost 8 million years old engraved language.

CHAPTER 4 THE MESSAGE

Only those who live on those times for 8 million years ago can read the engraved figures on the walls.

OUR FATHER IN HEAVEN HOLY BE YOUR NAME YOUR KINGDOM COME YOU WILL BE DONE ON EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN GIVE US TODAY OUR DAILY BREAD AND FORGIVE US OUR SINS AS WE FORGIVE THOSE WHO SINNED US DO NOT BRING US TO THE TEST BUT DELIVER US FROM EVIL, AMEN.

SIGNED IN THE YEAR 3820 A.D.

Music Background: "Days Of Hiding" by Danny Caing https://soundcloud.com/genizyn/days-of-hiding-by-danny-caing

All Rights Reserved Copyrighted @ 2020 Wonderful Stories Limited

[rustbolt-answers-your-bullshit]

Act 3, Chapter 6: Train your Brain

(so sorry for any typos, I made this on my phone.)

Rustbolt looked at the new hero. "You want WHAT?" "We want you to train him," EB said. "The better he is at being a zombie hero, the less time Zomboss spends surveiling us!" Rustbolt looked at his friend. "Know what? Alright. Sounds good to me."

"First order of business is placing Zombies."

Sportacus nodded. "Then the plants go, then we do tricks, right?" Rustbolt nodded. "So here are your basic cards. I'd consider these the essentials. For Zombies, some of my favorites are Bucketheads and Paparazzi Zombies." "What's so good about a paparazzi zombie?" "Whenever you play a trick they get buffed. And since we have hearty tricks on our side, we can buff him with the trick, then he buffs himSELF. Get it?" Sportacus smiled and nodded. "That's pretty clever!" Rustbolt smirked. "Now for your essential tricks. Always make sure you have a rolling stone or two, a rocket science, and finally, my signature, weed spray." Sportacus nodded, pulling out a can of weed spray. "Like this?" Rustbolt nodded, taking the can and spraying it a little bit. Not long after, though, he felt a stinging sensation run through his arms and flash through his chest. His arm flinched, making him drop the weed spray. With a small wince he clenched his jaw, muttering a quiet "ow." "Oh. Right. You're part plant now." Rustbolt facepalmed. "I hadn't even THOUGHT about that. Dammit." "Hey, it's ok. I get the point. You've given me some good tips. Any good trump card techniques I should know about?" "EB taught you that phrase didn't he." Sportacus nodded. "He calls legendary cards Trump Cards." "Well I mean trump card is an actual term, so he's not wrong. Best trump card tho is Wall-nut Bowling." "What about for ZOMBIES?" "Gargantuar's feast. But since we don't have that, Undying Pharoh and Trickster. Try to get Trickster in your hand as early as possible, and it's best to use him im an empty lane or to get a good hit on a strong, but weakened plant." "So what's good for a control deck?" "Oh, a control deck? Well I'd say Weed Spray, Lurch For Lunch, Ra Zombie, Rocket Science... Landscapers are good for weakening plants. Just know our biggest weakness." Sportacus leaned in. "3." "Three what?" "Three strength on the Zomboss Plant Strength Rating Scale™. We can do 2 or less, and 4 or more. We can't do 3. That's why we need landscapers." "Any other great tips?" "Going Viral. It's one of the best cards I have." "Got it. Well, I should get going. I'll see you around, Rustbolt." Sportacus turned around. "Watch this." He ran at full speed, and did a small hop. He jammed his pole into the dirt. It bent so much it didnt even seem like it could be made out of anything harder than synthetic rubber. When Sportacus made enough distance in his jump to get in front of where the pile was in the ground, it sprung back and catapulted him unbelievably high into the air. He did a summersault or two, and Rustbilt watched him vault off into the distance. "Cool. Not as cool as rocket boots, but pretty freaking cool."

"How's the progress so far, Brainstorm?"

Brainstorm flinched at the sound of the undead overlord's voice. He turned around in his wheely chair to see Zomboss looking at him. "I'm doing fine, sir." "That wasn't the question, Professor. Although im... "glad," to hear your in good condition, I asked about the MACHINE. How's progress with the second laser?" Brainstorm nodded, standing up and pushing in the chair. "It's going well sir. Except..." "Except what, Brainstorm?" "Well it doesn't pertain to the laser but--" "Let me tell you something," Zomboss started. He had a tendency to cut off other Zombies. Brainstorm never had a problem with it. Only Rustbolt and Smash ever seemed to find it aggravating. "Did anyone ever tell you that you're my favorite Zombie hero?" Brainstorm stared blankly and blinked a few times. "I am?" "Yes you are. Also, has anyone ever told you that we sound alike?" Brainstorm nodded. "Quite a few zombies. Rustbolt on multiple accounts." Zombies gagged. "Forget about that soda-suited scatterbrain. Anyways, its because we do. You probably don't know this, but we're very alike." "Well of course. We're both zombies, and we're both geniuses." "We're the smartest two zombies. We're both mad geniuses. And do you think it's a coincidence that you're the only Zombie with a very unique superpower? The only zombie that comes close to what you do is the Mad Chemist. Smash has a glorified rolling stone. Super Brainz has one so BASIC, that it posts daily on Instagram. Rustbolt was like a landscaper. Neptuna throws her squid, I'd hardly call that a superpower. Impfinity's is like Electric Boogaloo's backup dancer summoning. And also his signature superpower is like your electrobolt, just with healing. See? Yours is special. Because I see you as another me." "Another you, sir?" "I see you as my successor. But since we're all immortal zombies, I doubt you'll be taking over anytime soon." Brainstorm smiled. "That's a very flattering opinion you have of me, sir." Zomboss nodded. "If you finish half of the laser tonight I'll treat you to some brains. Prepared any way you please." Brainstorm smiled, his buck teeth digging into his lower jaw's gums. "I won't let you down, sir!" "I cleared my schedule for tonight, I'll just stay and watch." And that night Brainstorm worked on the laser. He worked for two more hours before he was about 50% done. Him and Zomboss went off to Zonboss' lair, and they had brain fillet for dinner and brain crème brulee for dessert. "That was delicious, no?" Asked Zomboss. Brainstorm nodded. "Why is it called brain creme brulee and not something more clever?" "YOU try making it a play on words." "Brain Brulee? No, um... Creme Brainlee? No thats worse... Creme bruBrain? Oh geez I see your point..." Zomboss chuckled. "What about Creme Bru-Lain?" "What?" "That way it has B R in the Bru and "ain" in the Lain." "I suppose." "Also, something's been bugging me lately. You know that pink comet?" "The one that's sort of been in view alot longer than a normal comet should be?" Brainstorm nodded. "Do you have any idea what's making that glow?" "No idea but whatever it is, it's probably harmful to plants." Brainstorm nodded. "It's a mystery." "Who knows?" Zomboss shrugged. "Maybe we'll find out.

[pvisonivy]

Shark vs Dyson Pet Hair Vacuum - Comparison

Shark and Dyson will be the PlayStation and Xbox of the vacuum world. These two firms always introduce advanced products and place the bar high for the rest of the business.

By Shark's effective double brushroll method to Dyson's patented Ball technologies, there's not any denying that they make amazing vacuum cleaner. This makes picking between the two more difficult.

Who wins the head-to-head conflict between Shark and Dyson? What's greatest, Dyson or Shark? Let us find out.

Shark vs Dyson - Brand Comparison

Shark:

SharkNinja Operating LLC, the parent company that possesses the Shark brand is recorded in Inc.. Magazine as America's 5000 fastest-growing businesses.

The business started back in 1995 and has been formerly called Euro-Pro Operating LLC. The business still keeps their privately-held standing and can be led by Chairman and CEO Mark Rosenzweig. Now, since the provider is privately-held they're not required to release any financial details. I actually had to dig deep to produce my very best guess.

I feel the business is currently worth in the area $1.8 billion. In addition, I estimate that the business employs around 1500 people globally. This past year, the firm moved to a huge 175,000-square-foot office in Needham, which functions as the SharkNinja headquarters.

Through time, the business has also expanded its reach, and it has penetrated markets in China, Canada, and the united kingdom. Partnering with various big box stores, the provider is well-established in those markets.

Dyson:

Dyson is a significant name and for great reason. Its creator James Dyson was the guy who devised the bagless vacuum cleaner. He established the business in 1987 with an idea to present an alternative to cluttered bagged vacuum cleaner readily available back then.

Years of invention has the directed Dyson to grow into one of the main worldwide vacuum cleaner makers. The organization's annual revenue now stands at more than $3 billion plus it boasts a worker strength of over 7000. James Dyson himself is currently estimated to be worth $5.7 billion.

Aside from US, UK, and China, the Business has become market leader in countries like New Zealand, Australia, Malaysia, and Singapore. Dyson also formally entered that the highly-competitive Indian marketplace in February of 2018.

Model Comparison : Shark ION F80 MultiFlex vs. Dyson Cyclone V10 Total

Are you looking for an agile and flexible stick vacuum to Assist You with you daily cleanups? The Dyson V10 and Shark F80 would be the cream of this crop.

The two Vacuums are functional appliances with superior capabilities. They're distinct, but both provide many helpful functions.

To compare both, you want to place their differences side by side. And also to choose between them both, you have to determine which attributes are more crucial for you. In case you have allergies, then the V10 has greater filtration. On the flip side, in case you've got a large house, the F80 includes a more runtime.

Dyson Cyclone V10 has:

More powerful suction

Brush roster tool for upholstery

HEPA filtration

Larger dirt cup

Wall-mountable charging dock for storage

However Shark ION F80 MultiFlex has:

More runtime (80 min compared to 60 minutes) and interchangeable batteries

2 in 1 cleaning head for carpets and hard flooring surfaces

May be kept in a freestanding style.

Model Comparison : Shark Apex DuoClean Upright Vs. Dyson Animal 2

The two Shark and Dyson have really competent uprights. The two Supply the powered and suction brushroll to wash carpets of dust, dirt and pet hair. Both aren't lightweight vacuums, however, heavy duty, high powered washing machines.

All of Dyson and Shark uprights are all Bagless, in which you empty the dust bin into a trashcan, with a few of the pollutants becoming into the atmosphere.

The primary differences between that the Shark Apex DuoClean AZ1002 and Dyson Animal two are: Dyson's electricity cable is 5 feet more and the Dyson includes a considerably larger dust bin.

The Shark Apex AZ1002 gets got the newest Zero-M technologies to avoid hair tangling (brushroll is self cleansing).

Dyson has a distinctive tangle-free handheld turbine instrument, which is excellent for pet hair. The Shark Lift-Away attribute lets you carry around the vacuum, while the Dyson utilizes a conventional hose + batter. The Apex includes a DuoClean (hard +soft brushroll) whereas the Dyson includes a typical brushroll.

Dyson has a broader cleaner head compared to Shark. The Dyson Animal two is generally more costly than the Shark Apex.

Dyson Animal 2:

Bagless Upright

Ball Technology

Tangle-Free Pet Tool

5 Year Warranty

HEPA Filter

Brushroll Controls

Hose + Wand

.55 Gallon Dustbin

Standard Brushroll

Shark Apex:

Bagless Upright

Swivel Steering

Pet Multi-Tool

5 Year Warranty

HEPA Filter

Brushroll Controls

Lift-Away Canister

.375 Gallon Dustbin

DuoClean Brushroll

Zero-M Technology

Model Comparison : Shark ION Flex Vs Dyson V8

Shark ION Flex:

The Shark ION Flex DuoClean vacuum Cleaner is somewhat less costly than the Dyson V8, however, at this cost level, a slight difference in price will not impact the choice of the majority of buyers.

Though your budget might be a secondary concern for a few, it needs to be pointed out that the Shark ION Flex comes standard with two rechargeable lithium ion batteries, which will make it better value for money compared to Dyson V8.

If you are cleaning a large house and need to work for as long as you can without interruptions, a corded vacuum cleaner has its own limitations. You may only work for so long until the battery runs flat and has to be recharged.

That is the reason why a lot of men and women who rely on cellular devices maintain a spare battery (or 2). Using a standby battery charge in any way times, it is possible to just swap the battery out when required.

Obviously, buying additional batteries pushes the price of an expensive machine. The extra value of the additional battery to the Shark ION Flex may just influence the choice of a number of folks.

Dyson V8:

The Dyson V8 Is Most Likely the most expensive cordless pole Vacuum cleaner on the current market, though many believe it to be the ideal. An independent market survey suggested the Dyson V8 has been voted the best cordless vacuum cleaner from 7 high-end versions which were tested. Additionally, it has among the greatest lithium-ion batteries, giving you around 40-minutes cleansing period.

Though if you are going to utilize the complete suction power and apply the roller brush for optimum impact on carpeting, you are going to receive about 25-minutes, or less if you use the excess energy increase.

This can mean that though the Shark ION Flex includes two batteries, the Dyson V8 does not actually fall much behind when it comes to the amount of time you are getting in the battery.

Probably the Most Critical attribute on the Dyson V8 is that the Two-tier cyclonic system which uses 15 cyclonic beams to get rid of fine dust and tiny particles in the atmosphere before it reaches the dust cup.

This also boosts the air cleaning impact of this fantastic HEPA filter and lowers the dust accumulating from the filter, making for simpler maintenance.