The Heartless Automaton
[This is one of the very first Otherwhile-ish stories I ever wrote, a little over twenty years ago]
In a land not far from here but an age ago, there is an ancient wall. Within that ancient wall there is an old and mysterious city. Within that old and mysterious city there is a tall and twisted tower. That tall and twisted tower is as high as the sky and made of black rock and around it circle rooks and ravens. Within that tall and twisted tower there once lived a magician. The magician was an old man, whose eyes had seen all the wonders of this world and the worlds beyond it and whose feet had walked all paths both known and unknown. His skin was cracked and wrinkled by the years he had seen. His eyes were covered with a film as white as frost, through which he peered at all the things which passed him by and as he looked he thought that all the life was running out of the world, for everything he saw was pale and cold. His body was bent over so that he could not look up at the sun and the sky and the birds, but only down at the black stone floor of his tower.
It happened that one day the old magician was sitting in his tall and twisted tower of black stone when, above the cawing of the rooks and ravens, he heard a sound that chilled him and the sound he heard was the beating of his own heart. As he listened to the sound of his heart he noticed how each beat was a little further away and a little quieter and a little slower and as he heard this he knew that his time upon this world was shortening.
Now the magician was not only old but he was also clever and he was not only clever but he was also prideful. In his pride he looked down on his old body and cursed it and his voice rang out through the tall and twisted tower of black stone as he cursed. `Why was I given a heart?' he shouted to the air, startling a rook which had perched on the edge of a nearby window and causing it to fly off to its brothers. `Why was I given a heart?' he shouted again, his voice cracking with the effort, `I did not ask for one. I did not ask to have my life measured out by its beating, I did not ask to grow old and wither and die'.
Now the old magician stood up from his chair, whose back was carved into the shape of a great black bird and whose arms and legs were carved into twisted serpents, and paced slowly across the black floor of his tower, his stick rattling on the stone like the cracking of ice. As he paced he plotted and planned and as he paced and plotted and planned a scheme began to form in his mind. So it was that the old magician resolved to work one last spell, which spell would be the greatest this world or any other had ever seen and with that spell he resolved to create an automaton which would be wise beyond the wise and handsome beyond the handsome and by which the magician would be known forever. And, in order that this knowledge would not be lost, the old magician resolved that the automaton should have no heart so that it would never die.
Now the old magician walked to the window of his tower and put two long fingers to his thin lips and gave out a high and piercing whistle. At that whistle the rooks and ravens, which whirled and turned about the tall and twisted tower looked towards the window and beat their wings and came to perch about its edge. When a hundred hundred rooks and ravens had gathered about the window like a thundercloud the old magician began to speak to them in their coarse and croaking language and told them to go and seek all that he needed to create his machine.
Now the rooks and ravens flew off and scattered themselves to all the distant places in this world to search for all that the old magician needed to make the automaton. For the automaton's body they sought amid the treasuries of the rich for the finest metals and when they brought them back in their beaks to the old magician he worked over them for hour after hour and day after day, creating a figure whose limbs were clean and strong and supple. For the automaton's eyes the birds sought the seas for the finest pearls, at once as white as milk and as grey as shadows and when they brought them back to the old magician he sat and polished them. For the automaton's hair the birds sought the finest wool, as light as air, as brilliant as stars and as black as a sunless sky, plucking it from the goats that dwell in the high mountains and carrying it back in their beaks to the magician who teased and carded and spun and wove it. For the automaton's scent the birds sought the finest of spices, snatching them from mysterious merchants who plied the trade routes of the East and bringing them back to the old magician who ground and mixed and pulverised and infused them into oils to produce the fragrance of a forest after the rain. For the automaton's clothes the birds plucked the cocoons of silkworms from the mulberry bushes and brought them back to the magician who boiled them to make the finest of silks, which he dyed with the rarest of dyes. And when the birds had brought him all these things, and he had smelted and ground and inlaid and woven, the old magician found that he had created the image of a man whose eyes were clear, whose brow was bright and whose body was tall and noble.
When the old magician had done all this he spoke once more to the rooks and ravens, telling them to seek far and wide for the ingredients of his old and powerful spell. Once more the birds flew into the air like a dark rain and began their search. They sought among lands near and far for the voices of the mightiest of rivers and the most babbling of brooks so that the automaton might speak and that its speech might be beautiful. They sought amid the highest of mountains for the sight of the greatest of eagles so that the automaton might see and that its seeing might always be clear. They sought amid the deepest of caves for the most resounding of echoes, so that the automaton might hear and that it might remember all that it heard. They sought amid the hottest of lands for the litheness of the swiftest of cheetahs, so that the automaton might move and that its movement might be filled always with easy grace. Finally they sought amid the old and the young for the wisdom of the ages, so that the automaton might understand and that its understanding might surpass that of all others.
When the rooks and ravens had brought all this back to the old magician they perched once more by the window of the tall and twisted tower and watched as he prepared to cast his spell. He sat upon the floor of black stone and gathered around him all the things the birds had brought him. Then, in a voice both low and strong, he spoke the words of his enchantment, and among those words he spoke of all the things that he had learned in his many travels along paths both known and unknown, of all the writings he had read, of all the sights he had seen and of all the sayings he had heard, so that the automaton might know them. And once he had finished, the old magician took up a diamond of infinite price and beauty and dashed it on the ground before his creation and said one more thing in a voice too high to be heard.
As the diamond was shattered on the ground and as the final word was spoken the flames of the candles in the tall and twisted tower flickered and fluttered and a soft wind leapt up and the rooks and ravens were scattered from the window. And in that moment the metal of the automaton's limbs was turned to flesh as white as winter sunlight, and the wool on the automaton's head was turned to hair as black as mourning and the pearls in the automaton's face were turned to eyes as blue as sadness.
The old magician looked on the automaton and his pale eyes were filled with wonder. He watched as the automaton raised its perfect hands up and looked at them. He watched as the automaton paced across the room, each step fluid and flawless. He watched as the automaton moved to stand before a rust-spotted mirror, whose gilded wooden frame had been eaten by worms, and stared at itself. All this the old magician watched with satisfaction and he said to himself he had created perfection.
Now the automaton looked at the old magician and spoke in a voice as powerful as a raging torrent yet as pleasing as a mountain spring and said these words `Magician, you have given me eyes which are clear and a brow which is bright. You have given me a voice which is beautiful to the hearer and limbs which are clean and strong and supple. You have given me the power to see the smallest mote of dust and to hear the quietest of sounds. You have given me the grace of the swiftest of animals and the wisdom of all the ages. You have given me all that you have learned and all that you have seen and all that you have heard. You have sought to create perfection and in so seeking have come far. Why then, magician', said the automaton, his voice as soft as the slowest of streams, `why then have you given me no heart?'.
And the magician turned to the automaton and said, `What use is a heart to you, my creation? What use is a heart to you? Can a heart help you to learn? Can a heart help you to know? No, a heart can do none of this. A heart can only measure out your life, can only cause you to wither and die as I am dying now. If you had a heart then your heart might fail and you would die and all that you are would be lost and if you were lost then I should be forgotten’.
Then the automaton closed its eyes and nodded and said no more.
Now the old magician resolved to take the automaton out into the world so that it might learn more. So they travelled this world and the worlds beyond and searched for yet more knowledge. In their travels they saw the highest mountains and the darkest depths. They crossed land and sea and desert and jungle. They visited the smallest of hamlets and the largest of cities. They dwelt with the richest of kings and the poorest of peasants. They listened to the finest of music and delved in the oldest of libraries. And during their travels the automaton remembered everything that it saw and everything that it heard and everything that it read. It remembered the sight of the morning sun on a lake, the sound of rain falling on leaves and the words of the most loving of poems. It remembered the sight of a dog savaging a rat, the sound of a parent scolding a child and the words of the most bitter of tracts. And the automaton was unmoved by all of this, for the automaton had no heart. Every thing, however small or large, was learned by the automaton, so that first it knew more than its master, then it knew more than the wise men and women of the cities, then more than the wisest men and women in the world until, eventually, it knew more than all the creatures which have ever been or will be.
When the old magician saw that the automaton had learned all this, he smiled to himself and was satisfied. And then he took the automaton by its perfect hand and returned to his tall and twisted tower of black stone, about which the rooks and ravens still whirled and turned. And when they had reached the highest room in the tower, the magician sat down upon his great oak chair, whose back was carved into the shape of a great black bird and whose arms were coiled like serpents. The old magician looked at his creation and smiled.
`It is many years since I created you, and even when I did so I knew that my time upon this earth was but short. Now I have taught you all that I know and more. I have taught you all the secrets, dark and light, which I have chanced upon in my many wanderings, I have taught you how spells are cast and enchantments woven, I have shown you all that lies in this world and the worlds beyond and all that there is to be known in the whole wide universe and all these things you have learned. Now, my creation', said the old magician, raising his stooped head, `now you have learned all that there is to learn and you are wiser than the wise. Now your fame can be spread across this world and the worlds beyond and in spreading your fame you shall spread mine and for ever more people shall see you and see your beauty and see your wisdom and know that I created you and know that I was great and powerful'.
On hearing this, the automaton turned to its creator and looked on him with its cold and beautiful eyes but said nothing. The automaton had no desire to spread its creator’s fame, for the automaton had no heart.
The magician, not knowing what the automaton was thinking, continued his speech, `Now my task is complete and my time has come, for unlike you I have a heart and now my cursed heart has tired'. And even as he said this last the old magician was proved right, for his heart gave one last beat and stopped and the old magician let his thin and feeble fingers fall to his lap and laid down his head upon his chest and closed his eyes and died and in that very last instant he gave out one final cry of rage and once more the rooks and ravens were startled and flew up into the air about the tower and hung about it like a cloud.
The automaton looked down on the old magician with its cold and beautiful eyes, which could see as far as eagles could and could remember everything that they saw. And when the automaton saw that the old magician was dead it walked out of the room and down the stairs of the tall and twisted tower and out beyond the ancient wall of the old and mysterious city and into the world so that it might learn more and as it went it spared no thought for the old magician, for the automaton had no heart.
Now as the automaton travelled far and wide it met many people and the people that it met asked it questions and it answered them and when it was found that the automaton's answers were truthful its fame spread all about the world, so that each day another woman or man came to the automaton in search of another answer. Yet, even though its fame was spread, the automaton made no mention of the old magician who created him, nor did the automaton care whether the answers sought by the people were to be put to good use or ill, for the automaton had no heart.
One day the automaton came to a small cove by the sea just as the sun was rising. It looked out over the waters and saw the way the waxing light of the sun stole across the waves, causing them to sparkle like diamonds and it saw the way the gulls swooped low across the water and heard the deep roar of the sea as it rushed across the sand and stone of the beach. The automaton saw and heard all this but was unmoved, for the automaton had no heart.
As the automaton was watching it saw a fisherman, with hands as hard as horn and speech as sharp as salt. The fisherman, who was bent over his nets, looked up and saw the automaton. Upon seeing its bright brow and clean limbs and clear eyes, the fisherman thought of the stories he had heard of a wonderful but heartless creature that could answer any question. So thinking, the fisherman dropped his nets on the ground and walked towards the automaton.
`And are you the heartless automaton, the creature which will answer any question, be it good or ill ?', asked the old fisherman.
`I am that', answered the automaton, and looked upon the fisherman with its cold, clear eyes.
`And will you answer my question ?', asked the fisherman again.
`I will, for I know all things', replied the automaton, still looking at the old man.
`Now', began the fisherman, `beyond that ridge is my cottage and in that cottage dwells my wife and with her my four children who are dearer to me than I am to myself. Yet each day they cry, for I have not caught a fish these many days past and each day my family goes hungry'.
`All this I know', said the automaton, his eyes still cold and blue.
`If you know this already', said the fisherman, `Have pity on me and tell me where to place my nets so that the fish shall swim into them and I may have food tonight, for it has been a hard time for me and if I catch no fish soon my family will starve'.
The automaton did not take his eyes from the old man as it answered. `There is a rock beyond that bluff and by that rock is another and by that rock there is another yet. Go out to the third rock at the mid‑tide and place your nets there, for that is where the fish swim and that is where the fish will swell your nets. And know that I tell you this not from pity, for I have no heart. I tell you this because it is known to me, for I know all things'.
Now the fisherman went back to his nets and picked them up in his horny hands and went to do what he was told. With slow and uneasy steps he went out to the third rock and cast his nets and as he cast them he offered up a small prayer to fate for the sake of his family and even as he spoke his prayer the fish came swimming and leaping into his nets until they were filled with the silver‑scaled creatures. Soon the fisherman was collecting up his catch and running and leaping back to where the automaton was and as he ran he waved and shouted and thanked the automaton for saving his family from starvation. But the automaton did not care, for the automaton had no heart.
Once more the automaton travelled far and wide, along paths both known and unknown. It saw trees that had stood for a thousand years, whose leaves were yet green and whose branches had been formed by the wind into shapes that were both mysterious and wonderful. It saw valleys deeper than longing, through which rivers whose waters were bluer even than the automaton’s eyes ran swiftly. It saw cities ancient and modern in which all the greatest works of mankind were displayed. Yet the automaton was unmoved by all this, for the automaton had no heart.
After many days of wandering the automaton was travelling through a dim and dusky town, whose streets were narrow and twisted and whose alleys were cold and quiet. As the automaton entered a path that was darker and narrower than all the rest, a small man, whose face and body were sheathed in a cloak so dark and subtle that he seemed a moving shadow, saw him. The little man looked at the automaton and saw its rich clothes and noble bearing and wondered how he could steal something from it, but then he saw its cold and beautiful eyes and its hair as black as mourning and recognised it. So the little man sidled up to the automaton and tapped it upon the shoulder.
`And are you the heartless automaton, the creature which will answer any question, be it good or ill?', asked the man, drawing back his cloak and revealing a nose which was as long and thin as an old wives' tale and eyes which were darker than anger.
`I am that', answered the automaton, and looked upon the small man with its cold, clear eyes.
`And will you answer my question ?', asked the man again.
`I will, for I know all things', replied the automaton, still looking at the man.
`Know you then', said the small man, `That there is a man I hate like knives, and I hate him for no other reason than that I do, and I wish to kill him. I ask you to tell me how I am to do it'. And, having asked his question in this fashion, the little man withdrew a slender stiletto from his pocket and placed it at the automaton's throat and said, `And remember, if you do not tell me, then I must kill you too'.
And the automaton looked down on him and answered thus, `I know there is a man you hate like knives, for I know all things. The man you hate lives in a cottage on the edge of this dim and dusky town. He keeps a knife below his pillow but keeps his door unlocked. This night, after the first owl has hooted, the moon will be covered by cloud. When that happens, go to the door of the cottage and enter in, then go to the third door and open it and inside you will see the man you hate. Then go to the bed and take the knife from under his pillow and slay him. And know that I tell you this not from fear of death, for I have no heart. I tell you this because it is known to me, for I know all things'.
Now the little man smiled to himself and gathered his cloak once more about him and slid into the shadows. He crept silently through the night towards the cottage of the man he hated and waited there until the first owl hooted. When the owl hooted a cloud drew itself across the moon and the land was covered in darkness. Now the little man stood up and went into the cottage through the unlocked door and entered the room behind the third door and took up the knife that was hidden beneath the pillow and slew the man he hated and once he had slain him he exulted in his evil and danced and capered upon the floor. And the automaton did not care, for the automaton had no heart.
And still the automaton travelled and still its fame spread. It happened one day that the automaton was travelling through a land of wind and sand and it came to a great city and in that great city it saw domes beaten from solid gold and fountains of silver water, it saw streets paved with marble and roofs of malachite and many other wonders, but the automaton was unmoved by all this for the automaton had no heart. And when the people saw that the automaton was not moved by all these wonders they knew the automaton for what it was and ran to the ruler of the city and told him of what they knew. So it was that, by and by, some soldiers came and arrested the automaton and took it before the city's ruler and made it kneel.
The city's ruler was a man as broad as he was tall, with rings of every valuable metal on his fingers and clothes of the rarest materials upon his body. His lips were reddened by the colour of crushed beetles and his eyes were made strange and bright by dark tinctures and subtle potions. When he saw the automaton before him he pulled at his preened and pampered beard and smiled.
`And are you the heartless automaton, the creature which will answer any question, be it good or ill?' he asked, bringing a tender sweetmeat to his beetle-reddened lips and swallowing it.
`I am that', answered the automaton, and looked up at the city's ruler with its cold, clear eyes.
`And will you answer my questions?' asked the city's ruler.
`I will, for I know all things', replied the automaton, still looking at the ruler as he licked his fattened fingers and reached for another treat.
And now the city's ruler gathered round him all the wise men in his command and bade them question the automaton and see if he spoke the truth and the wise men, whose hairs were as grey as smoke and whose beards were as long as lightning questioned the automaton for hour after hour and day after day until they could question him no more and each time they found that the automaton answered the truth.
Next the ruler called upon all his seers: his cheiromancers who saw the future in the palms of men, his ailuromancers who saw the future in the way that cats jump, his enoptromancers who saw the future in mirrors and his haematomancers who saw the future in drops of blood. Once more the ruler of the city bade them test the automaton and each of them quizzed it about all that is known in the worlds beyond this one for hour after hour and day after day until they too could question him no more and each time they too found that the automaton answered the truth.
When the questioning had ceased the ruler of the city turned to his soldiers and told them to raise up the automaton and place him on a cushion of silk and he said, `It is true then, heartless one, that you know all things in this world and beyond. I bid you stay with me and be at my side and advise my people and me. And if you do this I shall shower you in gold and silver, of which I have much, and bring you the sweetest foods in all my city and cause the finest of my musicians to play to you'.
The automaton looked up at the city's ruler with its cold and beautiful eyes. `I will stay with you and will answer all your questions for I know all things, but I need not the things that you offer me, for they do not move me for I have no heart'.
At this the city's ruler smiled and showed his long, thin teeth, which glistered like the moon. `For all that you say this, I will give you all that I have said I would, for I am a man of power and my advisers also must be powerful men and you shall sit at my side and answer all that I bid you. And I shall set a scribe to sit beside you and to write down all that you say in a great book bound in leather and in jewels and he shall write it with a quill of beaten silver and in that book will be all the knowledge in the world'.
So it was that the automaton dwelt in the palace of the ruler of the city and served him and answered all his questions and the automaton did not care if the answers it gave were to be used for good or ill for the automaton had no heart.
Each day the people of that city came to the hall of the ruler's palace and sought the knowledge of the automaton and each day it answered them. The merchants asked how they could sell their wares for the greatest profit and the farmers asked when they should sow and reap their crops. The poets asked for rhymes for their poems and the magicians for words for their spells. Seventh sons of seventh sons asked where they could find the gold of giants and princesses asked where they could find dragons to protect them from the suitors that sought them. Witches asked how love philtres might best be made and apothecaries asked for recipes for deadly poisons for doomed sweethearts. Young boys asked how best they might torture rats and young girls asked how they might free themselves from spots. And all these questions and more were answered by the automaton, for it knew all things in this world and the world beyond, but the automaton did not care if the questions were good or ill, for the automaton had no heart.
The ruler of the city was so pleased with his all‑knowing automaton that he bade his servants seek its knowledge. And so they came to it and asked it many things: the ruler's master of horses asked how to heal a foal that was sick, the ruler's cook asked how to create a dish beyond compare for the ruler's delectation, the ruler's daughter's maid asked how to climb the walls of the palace so she could see the stars, the ruler's chancellor asked how best he could swell the ruler's coffers with the gold of the people of the city, the ruler's executioner asked best how he could kill the men the ruler sent to him. Each time the automaton answered them, telling them that it knew all things in this world and the worlds beyond, but the automaton did not care if the questions were good or ill, for the automaton had no heart.
Philosophers and sages came to see the automaton and they too asked it many questions. They asked whether a tree that falls in a forest makes any sound if there is no‑one there to hear it. They asked what noise is made by the clapping of one hand. They asked whether a tortoise can run faster than a hare. They asked about the nature of knowledge. They asked about the nature of truth. All these questions were answered by the automaton for it knew all things in this world and the worlds beyond and the automaton cared not if its answers were used for good or for ill, for the automaton had no heart.
The automaton spent many years in the palace of the ruler of the city and answered many questions. Soon the whole world knew of the automaton and hailed it as the wisest creature in the world. Scholars bowed down to its knowledge and parents told their children to admire and emulate it. Each day hordes of people flocked to hear it speak in its beautiful voice, redolent of rivers, and to see its beautiful eyes as blue as sadness and its clothes of finest silk and watch it move with the litheness of cheetahs. And most of all they came to hear its answers.
At last, after many, many years had passed and the preened and pampered beard of the ruler of the city had become grey and his skin had become wizened and the book of answers had grown both fat and tall, a long, dark man came to the palace and took himself to the great hall and sat before the automaton and looked at it from beneath the hood of his cloak.
From beneath the cloak came a voice as harsh as rust, which spoke these words: `And are you the heartless automaton?'
The automaton looked down on the long, dark man with his cold and beautiful eyes and said `I am that'.
`And do you say that you know all things in this world and the worlds beyond?' asked the long, dark man.
`I do', said the automaton, `For I am wiser than the wise'.
`And what would you say if I said that you do not know all things and never will?' asked the man. As he asked it, all the people watching laughed, for they had seen how much the automaton knew and thought the man a fool to ask such a thing. Among the people, the ruler of the city laughed loudest and tugged at his preened and pampered beard and called for his guards to throw the long, dark man into a dungeon.
`I would say you are wrong', said the automaton, his voice as low as a river in flood.
And now the long, dark man stood up and looked at the automaton. `I say that you do not know why a man smiles when he hears the song of the birds. I say that you do not know why a mother cries when her child is lost. I say that you do not know why a fisherman worries for his starving family or why a small, cloaked man should exult on slaying his enemy. I say that you do not know why the ruler of this city seeks for gold. I say that you do not know why poets write poems and why lovers love. I say you know none of this and never can. I say that you have no heart'.
Now all the people stood and wondered and looked up at the automaton and waited for its answer but it said nothing. Instead it stood and looked down on the long, dark man and took in all that he had said. It thought of all the things it had said and done and seen, and thought of how it could never understand them. It thought of how the prideful old magician had given it the power to learn but not the heart to know the meaning of that learning. And as it thought this, the magic of the spell which the old magician had cast upon it began to fade away and as the magic faded the automaton ceased to move with the litheness of the swiftest of animals and ceased to speak with a voice as loud as a river and soft as a stream and ceased to remember all that it heard like a resounding echo and ceased to see with the eyes of an eagle and ceased to know all that it knew.
Now all the people in the great hall were struck with wonder as they saw their automaton cease to move and not a noise was made among them. And as they stood and stared in silence they began to make out a far off sound as of the wings of a hundred hundred birds beating. And as they stood and stared the sound came nearer and nearer until it roared louder than rivers. And when the sound was almost upon them a stormcloud of rooks and ravens burst through the walls of the palace, wheeling and turning and pecking and clawing at all that they saw. At this the people fled and the rooks and ravens turned and wheeled once more and gathered around the automaton and plucked at its clothes and at its hair which was now only wool and at its eyes which were now only pearls and at its limbs which were now only metal. And when they had finished they flew from the palace to the tall and twisted tower where the bones of their forgotten master still sat slumped in his great, carved chair and as they flew they scattered the wool and pearls and metals over the earth. And when all this had happened no trace of the automaton was left, and for all that the automaton had had no heart it had died and all that it once was was lost.
And now no‑one was left in the great hall save the long, dark man and the long, dark man bent down and picked up the great book in which all the automaton's answers had been written and placed it under his arm. And when the book had been secured the long, dark man turned from the palace and walked out into the desert, whistling to himself as he went and nothing more was seen of him or the book that he carried for many-a-many a year.
It happened that one day the old magician was sitting in his tall and twisted tower of black stone when, above the cawing of the rooks and ravens, he heard a sound that chilled him and the sound he heard was the beating of his own heart. As he listened to the sound of his heart he noticed how each beat was a little further away and a little quieter and a little slower and as he heard this he knew that his time upon this world was shortening.
Now the magician was not only old but he was also clever and he was not only clever but he was also prideful. In his pride he looked down on his old body and cursed it and his voice rang out through the tall and twisted tower of black stone as he cursed. `Why was I given a heart?' he shouted to the air, startling a rook which had perched on the edge of a nearby window and causing it to fly off to its brothers. `Why was I given a heart?' he shouted again, his voice cracking with the effort, `I did not ask for one. I did not ask to have my life measured out by its beating, I did not ask to grow old and wither and die'.
Now the old magician stood up from his chair, whose back was carved into the shape of a great black bird and whose arms and legs were carved into twisted serpents, and paced slowly across the black floor of his tower, his stick rattling on the stone like the cracking of ice. As he paced he plotted and planned and as he paced and plotted and planned a scheme began to form in his mind. So it was that the old magician resolved to work one last spell, which spell would be the greatest this world or any other had ever seen and with that spell he resolved to create an automaton which would be wise beyond the wise and handsome beyond the handsome and by which the magician would be known forever. And, in order that this knowledge would not be lost, the old magician resolved that the automaton should have no heart so that it would never die.
Now the old magician walked to the window of his tower and put two long fingers to his thin lips and gave out a high and piercing whistle. At that whistle the rooks and ravens, which whirled and turned about the tall and twisted tower looked towards the window and beat their wings and came to perch about its edge. When a hundred hundred rooks and ravens had gathered about the window like a thundercloud the old magician began to speak to them in their coarse and croaking language and told them to go and seek all that he needed to create his machine.
Now the rooks and ravens flew off and scattered themselves to all the distant places in this world to search for all that the old magician needed to make the automaton. For the automaton's body they sought amid the treasuries of the rich for the finest metals and when they brought them back in their beaks to the old magician he worked over them for hour after hour and day after day, creating a figure whose limbs were clean and strong and supple. For the automaton's eyes the birds sought the seas for the finest pearls, at once as white as milk and as grey as shadows and when they brought them back to the old magician he sat and polished them. For the automaton's hair the birds sought the finest wool, as light as air, as brilliant as stars and as black as a sunless sky, plucking it from the goats that dwell in the high mountains and carrying it back in their beaks to the magician who teased and carded and spun and wove it. For the automaton's scent the birds sought the finest of spices, snatching them from mysterious merchants who plied the trade routes of the East and bringing them back to the old magician who ground and mixed and pulverised and infused them into oils to produce the fragrance of a forest after the rain. For the automaton's clothes the birds plucked the cocoons of silkworms from the mulberry bushes and brought them back to the magician who boiled them to make the finest of silks, which he dyed with the rarest of dyes. And when the birds had brought him all these things, and he had smelted and ground and inlaid and woven, the old magician found that he had created the image of a man whose eyes were clear, whose brow was bright and whose body was tall and noble.
When the old magician had done all this he spoke once more to the rooks and ravens, telling them to seek far and wide for the ingredients of his old and powerful spell. Once more the birds flew into the air like a dark rain and began their search. They sought among lands near and far for the voices of the mightiest of rivers and the most babbling of brooks so that the automaton might speak and that its speech might be beautiful. They sought amid the highest of mountains for the sight of the greatest of eagles so that the automaton might see and that its seeing might always be clear. They sought amid the deepest of caves for the most resounding of echoes, so that the automaton might hear and that it might remember all that it heard. They sought amid the hottest of lands for the litheness of the swiftest of cheetahs, so that the automaton might move and that its movement might be filled always with easy grace. Finally they sought amid the old and the young for the wisdom of the ages, so that the automaton might understand and that its understanding might surpass that of all others.
When the rooks and ravens had brought all this back to the old magician they perched once more by the window of the tall and twisted tower and watched as he prepared to cast his spell. He sat upon the floor of black stone and gathered around him all the things the birds had brought him. Then, in a voice both low and strong, he spoke the words of his enchantment, and among those words he spoke of all the things that he had learned in his many travels along paths both known and unknown, of all the writings he had read, of all the sights he had seen and of all the sayings he had heard, so that the automaton might know them. And once he had finished, the old magician took up a diamond of infinite price and beauty and dashed it on the ground before his creation and said one more thing in a voice too high to be heard.
As the diamond was shattered on the ground and as the final word was spoken the flames of the candles in the tall and twisted tower flickered and fluttered and a soft wind leapt up and the rooks and ravens were scattered from the window. And in that moment the metal of the automaton's limbs was turned to flesh as white as winter sunlight, and the wool on the automaton's head was turned to hair as black as mourning and the pearls in the automaton's face were turned to eyes as blue as sadness.
The old magician looked on the automaton and his pale eyes were filled with wonder. He watched as the automaton raised its perfect hands up and looked at them. He watched as the automaton paced across the room, each step fluid and flawless. He watched as the automaton moved to stand before a rust-spotted mirror, whose gilded wooden frame had been eaten by worms, and stared at itself. All this the old magician watched with satisfaction and he said to himself he had created perfection.
Now the automaton looked at the old magician and spoke in a voice as powerful as a raging torrent yet as pleasing as a mountain spring and said these words `Magician, you have given me eyes which are clear and a brow which is bright. You have given me a voice which is beautiful to the hearer and limbs which are clean and strong and supple. You have given me the power to see the smallest mote of dust and to hear the quietest of sounds. You have given me the grace of the swiftest of animals and the wisdom of all the ages. You have given me all that you have learned and all that you have seen and all that you have heard. You have sought to create perfection and in so seeking have come far. Why then, magician', said the automaton, his voice as soft as the slowest of streams, `why then have you given me no heart?'.
And the magician turned to the automaton and said, `What use is a heart to you, my creation? What use is a heart to you? Can a heart help you to learn? Can a heart help you to know? No, a heart can do none of this. A heart can only measure out your life, can only cause you to wither and die as I am dying now. If you had a heart then your heart might fail and you would die and all that you are would be lost and if you were lost then I should be forgotten’.
Then the automaton closed its eyes and nodded and said no more.
Now the old magician resolved to take the automaton out into the world so that it might learn more. So they travelled this world and the worlds beyond and searched for yet more knowledge. In their travels they saw the highest mountains and the darkest depths. They crossed land and sea and desert and jungle. They visited the smallest of hamlets and the largest of cities. They dwelt with the richest of kings and the poorest of peasants. They listened to the finest of music and delved in the oldest of libraries. And during their travels the automaton remembered everything that it saw and everything that it heard and everything that it read. It remembered the sight of the morning sun on a lake, the sound of rain falling on leaves and the words of the most loving of poems. It remembered the sight of a dog savaging a rat, the sound of a parent scolding a child and the words of the most bitter of tracts. And the automaton was unmoved by all of this, for the automaton had no heart. Every thing, however small or large, was learned by the automaton, so that first it knew more than its master, then it knew more than the wise men and women of the cities, then more than the wisest men and women in the world until, eventually, it knew more than all the creatures which have ever been or will be.
When the old magician saw that the automaton had learned all this, he smiled to himself and was satisfied. And then he took the automaton by its perfect hand and returned to his tall and twisted tower of black stone, about which the rooks and ravens still whirled and turned. And when they had reached the highest room in the tower, the magician sat down upon his great oak chair, whose back was carved into the shape of a great black bird and whose arms were coiled like serpents. The old magician looked at his creation and smiled.
`It is many years since I created you, and even when I did so I knew that my time upon this earth was but short. Now I have taught you all that I know and more. I have taught you all the secrets, dark and light, which I have chanced upon in my many wanderings, I have taught you how spells are cast and enchantments woven, I have shown you all that lies in this world and the worlds beyond and all that there is to be known in the whole wide universe and all these things you have learned. Now, my creation', said the old magician, raising his stooped head, `now you have learned all that there is to learn and you are wiser than the wise. Now your fame can be spread across this world and the worlds beyond and in spreading your fame you shall spread mine and for ever more people shall see you and see your beauty and see your wisdom and know that I created you and know that I was great and powerful'.
On hearing this, the automaton turned to its creator and looked on him with its cold and beautiful eyes but said nothing. The automaton had no desire to spread its creator’s fame, for the automaton had no heart.
The magician, not knowing what the automaton was thinking, continued his speech, `Now my task is complete and my time has come, for unlike you I have a heart and now my cursed heart has tired'. And even as he said this last the old magician was proved right, for his heart gave one last beat and stopped and the old magician let his thin and feeble fingers fall to his lap and laid down his head upon his chest and closed his eyes and died and in that very last instant he gave out one final cry of rage and once more the rooks and ravens were startled and flew up into the air about the tower and hung about it like a cloud.
The automaton looked down on the old magician with its cold and beautiful eyes, which could see as far as eagles could and could remember everything that they saw. And when the automaton saw that the old magician was dead it walked out of the room and down the stairs of the tall and twisted tower and out beyond the ancient wall of the old and mysterious city and into the world so that it might learn more and as it went it spared no thought for the old magician, for the automaton had no heart.
Now as the automaton travelled far and wide it met many people and the people that it met asked it questions and it answered them and when it was found that the automaton's answers were truthful its fame spread all about the world, so that each day another woman or man came to the automaton in search of another answer. Yet, even though its fame was spread, the automaton made no mention of the old magician who created him, nor did the automaton care whether the answers sought by the people were to be put to good use or ill, for the automaton had no heart.
One day the automaton came to a small cove by the sea just as the sun was rising. It looked out over the waters and saw the way the waxing light of the sun stole across the waves, causing them to sparkle like diamonds and it saw the way the gulls swooped low across the water and heard the deep roar of the sea as it rushed across the sand and stone of the beach. The automaton saw and heard all this but was unmoved, for the automaton had no heart.
As the automaton was watching it saw a fisherman, with hands as hard as horn and speech as sharp as salt. The fisherman, who was bent over his nets, looked up and saw the automaton. Upon seeing its bright brow and clean limbs and clear eyes, the fisherman thought of the stories he had heard of a wonderful but heartless creature that could answer any question. So thinking, the fisherman dropped his nets on the ground and walked towards the automaton.
`And are you the heartless automaton, the creature which will answer any question, be it good or ill ?', asked the old fisherman.
`I am that', answered the automaton, and looked upon the fisherman with its cold, clear eyes.
`And will you answer my question ?', asked the fisherman again.
`I will, for I know all things', replied the automaton, still looking at the old man.
`Now', began the fisherman, `beyond that ridge is my cottage and in that cottage dwells my wife and with her my four children who are dearer to me than I am to myself. Yet each day they cry, for I have not caught a fish these many days past and each day my family goes hungry'.
`All this I know', said the automaton, his eyes still cold and blue.
`If you know this already', said the fisherman, `Have pity on me and tell me where to place my nets so that the fish shall swim into them and I may have food tonight, for it has been a hard time for me and if I catch no fish soon my family will starve'.
The automaton did not take his eyes from the old man as it answered. `There is a rock beyond that bluff and by that rock is another and by that rock there is another yet. Go out to the third rock at the mid‑tide and place your nets there, for that is where the fish swim and that is where the fish will swell your nets. And know that I tell you this not from pity, for I have no heart. I tell you this because it is known to me, for I know all things'.
Now the fisherman went back to his nets and picked them up in his horny hands and went to do what he was told. With slow and uneasy steps he went out to the third rock and cast his nets and as he cast them he offered up a small prayer to fate for the sake of his family and even as he spoke his prayer the fish came swimming and leaping into his nets until they were filled with the silver‑scaled creatures. Soon the fisherman was collecting up his catch and running and leaping back to where the automaton was and as he ran he waved and shouted and thanked the automaton for saving his family from starvation. But the automaton did not care, for the automaton had no heart.
Once more the automaton travelled far and wide, along paths both known and unknown. It saw trees that had stood for a thousand years, whose leaves were yet green and whose branches had been formed by the wind into shapes that were both mysterious and wonderful. It saw valleys deeper than longing, through which rivers whose waters were bluer even than the automaton’s eyes ran swiftly. It saw cities ancient and modern in which all the greatest works of mankind were displayed. Yet the automaton was unmoved by all this, for the automaton had no heart.
After many days of wandering the automaton was travelling through a dim and dusky town, whose streets were narrow and twisted and whose alleys were cold and quiet. As the automaton entered a path that was darker and narrower than all the rest, a small man, whose face and body were sheathed in a cloak so dark and subtle that he seemed a moving shadow, saw him. The little man looked at the automaton and saw its rich clothes and noble bearing and wondered how he could steal something from it, but then he saw its cold and beautiful eyes and its hair as black as mourning and recognised it. So the little man sidled up to the automaton and tapped it upon the shoulder.
`And are you the heartless automaton, the creature which will answer any question, be it good or ill?', asked the man, drawing back his cloak and revealing a nose which was as long and thin as an old wives' tale and eyes which were darker than anger.
`I am that', answered the automaton, and looked upon the small man with its cold, clear eyes.
`And will you answer my question ?', asked the man again.
`I will, for I know all things', replied the automaton, still looking at the man.
`Know you then', said the small man, `That there is a man I hate like knives, and I hate him for no other reason than that I do, and I wish to kill him. I ask you to tell me how I am to do it'. And, having asked his question in this fashion, the little man withdrew a slender stiletto from his pocket and placed it at the automaton's throat and said, `And remember, if you do not tell me, then I must kill you too'.
And the automaton looked down on him and answered thus, `I know there is a man you hate like knives, for I know all things. The man you hate lives in a cottage on the edge of this dim and dusky town. He keeps a knife below his pillow but keeps his door unlocked. This night, after the first owl has hooted, the moon will be covered by cloud. When that happens, go to the door of the cottage and enter in, then go to the third door and open it and inside you will see the man you hate. Then go to the bed and take the knife from under his pillow and slay him. And know that I tell you this not from fear of death, for I have no heart. I tell you this because it is known to me, for I know all things'.
Now the little man smiled to himself and gathered his cloak once more about him and slid into the shadows. He crept silently through the night towards the cottage of the man he hated and waited there until the first owl hooted. When the owl hooted a cloud drew itself across the moon and the land was covered in darkness. Now the little man stood up and went into the cottage through the unlocked door and entered the room behind the third door and took up the knife that was hidden beneath the pillow and slew the man he hated and once he had slain him he exulted in his evil and danced and capered upon the floor. And the automaton did not care, for the automaton had no heart.
And still the automaton travelled and still its fame spread. It happened one day that the automaton was travelling through a land of wind and sand and it came to a great city and in that great city it saw domes beaten from solid gold and fountains of silver water, it saw streets paved with marble and roofs of malachite and many other wonders, but the automaton was unmoved by all this for the automaton had no heart. And when the people saw that the automaton was not moved by all these wonders they knew the automaton for what it was and ran to the ruler of the city and told him of what they knew. So it was that, by and by, some soldiers came and arrested the automaton and took it before the city's ruler and made it kneel.
The city's ruler was a man as broad as he was tall, with rings of every valuable metal on his fingers and clothes of the rarest materials upon his body. His lips were reddened by the colour of crushed beetles and his eyes were made strange and bright by dark tinctures and subtle potions. When he saw the automaton before him he pulled at his preened and pampered beard and smiled.
`And are you the heartless automaton, the creature which will answer any question, be it good or ill?' he asked, bringing a tender sweetmeat to his beetle-reddened lips and swallowing it.
`I am that', answered the automaton, and looked up at the city's ruler with its cold, clear eyes.
`And will you answer my questions?' asked the city's ruler.
`I will, for I know all things', replied the automaton, still looking at the ruler as he licked his fattened fingers and reached for another treat.
And now the city's ruler gathered round him all the wise men in his command and bade them question the automaton and see if he spoke the truth and the wise men, whose hairs were as grey as smoke and whose beards were as long as lightning questioned the automaton for hour after hour and day after day until they could question him no more and each time they found that the automaton answered the truth.
Next the ruler called upon all his seers: his cheiromancers who saw the future in the palms of men, his ailuromancers who saw the future in the way that cats jump, his enoptromancers who saw the future in mirrors and his haematomancers who saw the future in drops of blood. Once more the ruler of the city bade them test the automaton and each of them quizzed it about all that is known in the worlds beyond this one for hour after hour and day after day until they too could question him no more and each time they too found that the automaton answered the truth.
When the questioning had ceased the ruler of the city turned to his soldiers and told them to raise up the automaton and place him on a cushion of silk and he said, `It is true then, heartless one, that you know all things in this world and beyond. I bid you stay with me and be at my side and advise my people and me. And if you do this I shall shower you in gold and silver, of which I have much, and bring you the sweetest foods in all my city and cause the finest of my musicians to play to you'.
The automaton looked up at the city's ruler with its cold and beautiful eyes. `I will stay with you and will answer all your questions for I know all things, but I need not the things that you offer me, for they do not move me for I have no heart'.
At this the city's ruler smiled and showed his long, thin teeth, which glistered like the moon. `For all that you say this, I will give you all that I have said I would, for I am a man of power and my advisers also must be powerful men and you shall sit at my side and answer all that I bid you. And I shall set a scribe to sit beside you and to write down all that you say in a great book bound in leather and in jewels and he shall write it with a quill of beaten silver and in that book will be all the knowledge in the world'.
So it was that the automaton dwelt in the palace of the ruler of the city and served him and answered all his questions and the automaton did not care if the answers it gave were to be used for good or ill for the automaton had no heart.
Each day the people of that city came to the hall of the ruler's palace and sought the knowledge of the automaton and each day it answered them. The merchants asked how they could sell their wares for the greatest profit and the farmers asked when they should sow and reap their crops. The poets asked for rhymes for their poems and the magicians for words for their spells. Seventh sons of seventh sons asked where they could find the gold of giants and princesses asked where they could find dragons to protect them from the suitors that sought them. Witches asked how love philtres might best be made and apothecaries asked for recipes for deadly poisons for doomed sweethearts. Young boys asked how best they might torture rats and young girls asked how they might free themselves from spots. And all these questions and more were answered by the automaton, for it knew all things in this world and the world beyond, but the automaton did not care if the questions were good or ill, for the automaton had no heart.
The ruler of the city was so pleased with his all‑knowing automaton that he bade his servants seek its knowledge. And so they came to it and asked it many things: the ruler's master of horses asked how to heal a foal that was sick, the ruler's cook asked how to create a dish beyond compare for the ruler's delectation, the ruler's daughter's maid asked how to climb the walls of the palace so she could see the stars, the ruler's chancellor asked how best he could swell the ruler's coffers with the gold of the people of the city, the ruler's executioner asked best how he could kill the men the ruler sent to him. Each time the automaton answered them, telling them that it knew all things in this world and the worlds beyond, but the automaton did not care if the questions were good or ill, for the automaton had no heart.
Philosophers and sages came to see the automaton and they too asked it many questions. They asked whether a tree that falls in a forest makes any sound if there is no‑one there to hear it. They asked what noise is made by the clapping of one hand. They asked whether a tortoise can run faster than a hare. They asked about the nature of knowledge. They asked about the nature of truth. All these questions were answered by the automaton for it knew all things in this world and the worlds beyond and the automaton cared not if its answers were used for good or for ill, for the automaton had no heart.
The automaton spent many years in the palace of the ruler of the city and answered many questions. Soon the whole world knew of the automaton and hailed it as the wisest creature in the world. Scholars bowed down to its knowledge and parents told their children to admire and emulate it. Each day hordes of people flocked to hear it speak in its beautiful voice, redolent of rivers, and to see its beautiful eyes as blue as sadness and its clothes of finest silk and watch it move with the litheness of cheetahs. And most of all they came to hear its answers.
At last, after many, many years had passed and the preened and pampered beard of the ruler of the city had become grey and his skin had become wizened and the book of answers had grown both fat and tall, a long, dark man came to the palace and took himself to the great hall and sat before the automaton and looked at it from beneath the hood of his cloak.
From beneath the cloak came a voice as harsh as rust, which spoke these words: `And are you the heartless automaton?'
The automaton looked down on the long, dark man with his cold and beautiful eyes and said `I am that'.
`And do you say that you know all things in this world and the worlds beyond?' asked the long, dark man.
`I do', said the automaton, `For I am wiser than the wise'.
`And what would you say if I said that you do not know all things and never will?' asked the man. As he asked it, all the people watching laughed, for they had seen how much the automaton knew and thought the man a fool to ask such a thing. Among the people, the ruler of the city laughed loudest and tugged at his preened and pampered beard and called for his guards to throw the long, dark man into a dungeon.
`I would say you are wrong', said the automaton, his voice as low as a river in flood.
And now the long, dark man stood up and looked at the automaton. `I say that you do not know why a man smiles when he hears the song of the birds. I say that you do not know why a mother cries when her child is lost. I say that you do not know why a fisherman worries for his starving family or why a small, cloaked man should exult on slaying his enemy. I say that you do not know why the ruler of this city seeks for gold. I say that you do not know why poets write poems and why lovers love. I say you know none of this and never can. I say that you have no heart'.
Now all the people stood and wondered and looked up at the automaton and waited for its answer but it said nothing. Instead it stood and looked down on the long, dark man and took in all that he had said. It thought of all the things it had said and done and seen, and thought of how it could never understand them. It thought of how the prideful old magician had given it the power to learn but not the heart to know the meaning of that learning. And as it thought this, the magic of the spell which the old magician had cast upon it began to fade away and as the magic faded the automaton ceased to move with the litheness of the swiftest of animals and ceased to speak with a voice as loud as a river and soft as a stream and ceased to remember all that it heard like a resounding echo and ceased to see with the eyes of an eagle and ceased to know all that it knew.
Now all the people in the great hall were struck with wonder as they saw their automaton cease to move and not a noise was made among them. And as they stood and stared in silence they began to make out a far off sound as of the wings of a hundred hundred birds beating. And as they stood and stared the sound came nearer and nearer until it roared louder than rivers. And when the sound was almost upon them a stormcloud of rooks and ravens burst through the walls of the palace, wheeling and turning and pecking and clawing at all that they saw. At this the people fled and the rooks and ravens turned and wheeled once more and gathered around the automaton and plucked at its clothes and at its hair which was now only wool and at its eyes which were now only pearls and at its limbs which were now only metal. And when they had finished they flew from the palace to the tall and twisted tower where the bones of their forgotten master still sat slumped in his great, carved chair and as they flew they scattered the wool and pearls and metals over the earth. And when all this had happened no trace of the automaton was left, and for all that the automaton had had no heart it had died and all that it once was was lost.
And now no‑one was left in the great hall save the long, dark man and the long, dark man bent down and picked up the great book in which all the automaton's answers had been written and placed it under his arm. And when the book had been secured the long, dark man turned from the palace and walked out into the desert, whistling to himself as he went and nothing more was seen of him or the book that he carried for many-a-many a year.
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