The Affinity Bridge by George Mann Page A

machine. “As I mentioned earlier, Sir Maurice, the automaton operates on a series of predetermined programs. These programs are expressed as a series of punch cards that the internal mechanisms of the device can interpret and enact. The device has the capacity to file up to twenty-eight of these cards at any one time on a revolving spindle, and when asked to perform a task it will check the programs stored on its spindle and see if the correct card is in its repertoire. If so, it will retrieve the card and carry out the task. If not, well, you’ve seen the reaction in that situation.”
    Newbury shook his head in disbelief. “A machine that learns…”
    Villiers clicked the panel shut. He repeated his earlier command. “Copy that.”
    There was a whirring sound from within the chest of the automaton. Then, suddenly, its hands blurred over the keys of the typewriter and within a matter of seconds the entire page had been typed. Newbury leaned forward, taking the page from the top of the typewriter and comparing it to the original letter. It was identical, in every respect, even to the extent of recreating an error, where a misspelled word had been omitted with a series of Xs.
    “Veronica, do you see this?” He held the pages up for her. “It’s identical.” He turned to Villiers. “What, it must be ten times faster than a human being?”
“Undoubtedly so.”
Newbury shook his head. He was quite lost for words.
    Veronica studied the two copies of the letter. “It’s certainly very impressive.” She seemed hesitant to be carried away by the spectacle.
    Newbury was in his element. “Monsieur Villiers, tell me about the power source.”
    Villiers was obviously enjoying the attention. “The device is designed to power itself. When the automaton moves, a rotor inside its abdomen rocks back and forth, ratcheting the winding mechanism and causing the mainspring in the chest to become taut. Effectively, the unit is self-winding, and thus it will never power down, unless commanded to do so. If left inactive for long periods without instruction, the unit will eventually move itself to trigger the winding mechanism.”
“So it goes for a little stroll? Quite wonderful.”
    Veronica looked at the automaton warily. “It certainly seems intelligent, Monsieur Villiers.”
    “Thank you, Miss Hobbes. A compliment indeed. The entire purpose of an automaton is to give the impression of intelligence, maintaining the illusion whilst the workings of the device are kept hidden from the audience.”
    “And what are those workings, Monsieur Villiers? We’ve seen the mechanism that enables the device to be programmed, but how does it come to understand your voice commands, or interpret the input from its mirrored eyes?”
    “Ah, well, that is the secret, is it not?” Villiers put his hand on his hips. “The device is fitted with an incredibly complex mechanism that mimics the neurological structures of a human brain. It makes judgments by asking itself a series of logical questions and interpreting the results, enabling it to select a course of action. For example,” he leaned on the back of the automaton’s chair, “if the device were commanded to walk across this workshop, it would automatically find a route around the workbench there, without having to walk into it or attempting to clamber over it. This is achieved through a series of logical questions that the unit’s brain is designed to follow. What will happen if the unit walks into the workbench? How will walking into the workbench prevent it from achieving its goal? What is the quickest alternative route to its destination? Switches trigger inside the brain to enable the automaton to settle on the most effective solution to each question, thus deciding its route around the workbench. In this instance the unit would obviously decide to alter its course, rather than face potential damage by walking into an immovable object.” Villiers smiled, obviously pleased with