The automaton (for so the fractured pieces seemed to be) was found half hung in a cabinet at the back of the workshop. The workshop itself had remained unoccupied for the past decade and a half after its inhabitant had been imprisoned for unethical practices. In the room, remaining still, dusted blueprints littered desks, scraps of paper and notes pinned to the odds and ends, pistons and gears that structured the room. The automaton had been forgotten in the searches, the cabinet covered by a moth-eaten red curtain with gold trim, though in the years following the damp and uncare left the rag to slide to the floor and the polished red oak doors to break and collapse, the glass casing cracking and rusted hinges swinging.
Even now, through the years of neglect, the machine’s brass plating remained contrastingly unrusted compared to the rest of the artifice which clearly signed the passed years. The mechanical puppet’s bronze skin, once smudged of the dust and dirt it had accumulated, remained unnervingly unmarred, except from where falling gears and pipes, and the broken doors and window, had pierced its appendages and tore through the clockwork. Wire cables attached themselves to each limb, raising them in the clear design of a marionette; the framed skirt and dancers shoes dressing the contraption, paired with the tight bun of entwined copper string and steel wire adorning its head, would suggest its usage.
The figure’s forged mane was decorated by miniature, interwoven incandescent lightbulbs (left dark without power) and a comb made of welded half-cogs. Similar cogs and spurs decorated the doll’s faded red corset and skirt in place of lace trim and buttons. The contraption’s face strikes interest in our character, brought to the establishment after reading the former inventors’ wanton works and moral disregard. The mouth of the automaton hung partially open, the lower jaw being built of a separate build than the rest. The partition between the plating drew upwards before turning out and connecting to the sides centimetres below the eyes.
Carved crystal panels secured under the brass sockets dimly windowed twisted bulbs that were no longer lit. The right socket was further covered by a single, cracked spectacle-glass, attached by chain to where – were it human – an ear should be (of which the automaton had none).
Following the aforementioned cable upwards, a network of clockwork and pistons lies dormant above, connected to the pole which, when functioning, would move the cables and animate the automaton – thus giving the impression of life. However, a further inspection of the abandoned device would reveal a clockwork winder built into the back of the doll. It is this discovery which truly sparks the explorer’s curiosity.
The doll, attached to a marionette rig, would gain life through the puppeteer’s intent and skill though the presence of the winder suggests the automaton was built with its own framework to control its movements. By stepping closer to the cabinet and moving aside the fallen and splintered remnants of the door, he was able to pull the mangled automaton further from its casing, though its ruptured arm, which hung on its left, remained caught on its hook. With great care, the seeker lay the mistreated machine upon the filthy ground and turned to her back where the wind-key protruded.
With steady hands dressed in leather, fingerless gloves, our curious gentleman grasped the metal wings of the device and turned it round thrice with the creak of long unused metal. At first, all remained still and unchanged.
Then, with the sound of grinding clockwork, the lights entwined in the marionette’s hair dimly twinkled on and the machine twitched its limbs, the head briefly jerking up – a movement which caused the hanging jaw to drop further. With frightened wonder and awe-filled eyes, the brave adventurer stepped back, though fruitlessly as the doll dropped back to the ground – though with an abnormal lightness. Encouraged by the doll’s broken movements, our curious (and perhaps foolish) explorer approached the device again and rewound the key as far as he could.
This action achieved the desired result faster, with the automaton becoming animate near immediately. A quiet whirring started, growing gradually louder and accompanied by the violent groan of broken cogs attempting to force movement. Despite the broken clockwork, the automaton jerked upwards, staring forwards blankly for a few moments. Behind the crystal eyes, the twisted lightbulbs flickered to life, burning brightly orange and illuminating the entire eye. Amongst the whirring and creaking a melodic charm began to drift out from within the contraption, playing an almost familiar and comforting tune – though the jerking, broken movements and harsh groan of the gears gave a more eerie feeling. This was worsened as the maimed face jolted around to face him, the glowing eyes and suspended jaw staring straight towards him. Then, with its head tilted back, the automaton flung its unruptured arm upwards, palm up as its hand outstretched. The light within its eyes flickered, as the head tilted sideways and its fingers twitched, almost in a desperate plea uncharacteristic to the soulless machine.
And yet, despite the lack of life within the mechanical dancer and the unnerving, unblinking furnace of its eyes, the young boy reached out his own hand toward the metal girl’s, his curiosity winning over logic or thought.
So, would he be the cat that was killed, or the one brought back?
Tam Duffy
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