An Automaton’s Story

Medea’s knuckles turned white as the ship rocked. Behind her, Jason shouted orders at the argonauts to evade the boulders at any cost. Medea, on the other hand, watched the machine that did all that. The argonauts were hysterical, but she watched with a terrible calm.

Another attack rocked the ship.

“Medea, it is not safe out here.” Jason came up behind her. “Let’s get you inside.”

Medea turned with her usual charming smile. Jaon hesitated

“Jason!” the mighty warrior Heracles called. “The steersman cannot evade the boulders, the Argo has taken a lot of damage. We’ve to fight the giant.”

“It is no giant that we face, Heracles.” Medea turned back to the island. She saw the tall, bronze, humanoid pick up more chunks of rock to throw onto the argonauts.

“Holy Hera, it is indeed not.” 

“Looks like something Hephaestus would do.” Jason squinted as he joined Medea to gaze at the machine. “Can we fight it?” 

“You probably cannot, Jason dear. Let me handle the automaton.”

Medea and Jason approached the automaton on the land, only after convincing him that she just wanted to talk. He was made out of bronze, with a human body. When he looked down at the two of them, his eyes moved, in a way she had not seen before. It was a machine, but she could see that it was trying – and failing hard – in being a human. 

Medea blinked. An idea began to form in her head.

“You can make it work, Medea,” Jason put a hand on her shoulder. 

Despite his words Medea knew he didn’t fully believe her. More than the hand on her shoulder, the hand on his sword hilt told her his intentions. 

“What did you want to talk to?” The automaton spoke. The voice was a conglomerate of screeches and whirs. The idea in her head began to solidify. 

  Medea fell to her knees, an expression of absolute wonder over her face. She ignored the fact that Jason had almost pulled out his sword. 

“I cannot believe that I am in your audience,” Medea said. She bowed her head and tried hard to ignore the sand in her hair. “I have heard so many stories about you. I never believed them, but when I saw you out at the sea, I could not resist.”

Medea didn’t let a second go to waste. The more time she gave the Automaton to think, the faster doubt would grow. “But that’s because they are not really names, but titles. There are a lot of stories I have heard. Can I ask you for a request? Just one and then we will be off.”

The Automaton agreed.

Medea grinned as if a heretic in the presence of their God, and spread her arms. “I want to tell you the tales of your heroics.”

He  agreed and Medea started and went on to tell the tales of the great automaton. First, she spoke about how he was a hero, someone who could sink even the largest of tirerimes. As she described them, she could see the smile on his face grow. Medea, in a sense, put a show of praise, hopping off one point to another the moment she caught a positive response. She was also able to find out his name. Talos. 

There was one point, though, when she mentioned that many children who had heard of him wanted to be playmates with, that Talos’ expression turned unreadable. Fear struck her and Medea almost choked. Talos killed men and sunk ships, of course he wouldn’t want to be friends with children. 

But then Talos smiled down at her and her once dried up lungs inflated and she smiled. Talos wanted that. The machine wanted to be a human. In the metal body, he was stuck in between his identities, not a full human, not a full machine. 

Medea turned down the tone of her tales and made them sad and uneasy. She told about how unfulfilling Talos felt not being a human. She pulled him in in her web of words, praises and sweet words with a bitter tone. When she noticed that Talos believed her words with certainty, she went in for the last story. 

“And Talos, who wanted to be human the most, didn’t know that he could be one, that the answer lied in his weakness, that he knew about but didn’t explore.” She stopped and caught her breath. Her dry throat cracked at the effort of speaking.

“My weakness? Will it turn me into a human?” Talos was hopeful in the words that came out of him.

“That’s what the stories say.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does to me. You obviously have not thought to find out about your weakness even when you know about it. That’s what you lack and humans possess. Curiosity. It is less about your weakness, but the fact that you explore it or not.”

“Well,” Talos thought about it. 

Medea could see the trinkets and gears inside the automaton turn. 

“There is a nail at the back of my foot, which I have not really thought about that much. I just know I should not take it out.”

“Yes! There you go!” Medea’s face brightened. “That is your weakness, even you know it. It is the inhuman instinct that’s telling you to not remove it. Don’t listen to it.”

“Should I not?’ Talos asked in confusion. 

Medea grinned with drunken madness. “You shouldn’t listen to that voice. It is your comfort. Be brave and show me that you can become a full human. Then, we shall return and spread your story to everyone around the world. To Greece and beyond!”

“To Greece and beyond…” Talos said, enchanted by the wonder of the prospect. 

He reached behind and took out the nail. He lifted it up, with a more regal attitude than he picked up boulders. The next moment, it fell to the knees, and with a loud screech slammed on the ground.

“You lied.” The sound came from the metal head, which didn’t move anymore.

“Of course I did, darling.” Medea said. She turned to Jason, who looked at her with wide eyes.

“You killed him.” He stammered. “You made him kill himself.”

Medea snaked herself towards him and put a hand on his face. “I did it for you, Jason dear, only you. I am your woman and your weapon. Aim me at someone and I shall consume them.” 

Medea inched close to him and they kissed, locked in embrace on the land, amidst the remains of their enemy.