Diamond Age or a Young Lady's Illustrated Primer

When they reached the head of the aisle, the priest went through a perfunctory ceremony, praising the Wizard's excellent features and asking for its cooperation. As he said these words, lights began to come on and the machinery began to whir. Princess Nell saw that this vault was, in fact, nothing more than an anteroom for a much vaster space within, and that this space was filled with machinery: countless narrow shining rods, scarcely larger than pencil leads, laid in a fine gridwork, sliding back and forth under the impetus of geared power shafts running throughout the place. All of the machinery threw off heat as it ran, and the room was quite warm despite a vigorous draught of cold mountain air being pumped through it by windmill-size fans.

The priest took the first of the thirteen rolls of paper tape from the platter and fed it into a slot on the top of the altar. At this point, Wizard 0.2 really went into action, and Princess Nell saw that all the whirring and humming she'd seen to this point had been nothing more than a low idle. Each of its million pushrods was tiny, but the force needed to move all of them at once was seismic, and she could sense the tremendous strains on the power shafts and gear boxes thundering through the sturdy floor of the keep.

Lights came on around the stage, some of them built into the surface of the stage itself and some hidden in the machinery around it. To Princess Nell's surprise, a seemingly three-dimensional shape of light began to coalesce in the center of the empty stage. It gradually formed itself into a head, which took on additional details as the machinery thundered and hissed away: it was an old bald man with a long white beard, his face deeply furrowed in thought. After a few moments, the beard exploded into a flock of white birds and the head turned into a craggy mountain, the white birds swarming about it, and then the mountain erupted in orange lava that gradually filled up the entire volume of the stage until it was a solid glowing cube of orange light. In this fashion did one image merge into another, most astonishingly, for several minutes, and all the time the machinery was screaming away and making Princess Nell most anxious, and she suspected that if she had not seen less sophisticated machines at work at Castle Turing, she might have turned around and fled.

Finally, though, the images died away, the stage became empty again, and the altar spat out a length of paper tape, which the priest carefully folded up and handed to one of the acolytes. After a brief prayer of thanks, the priest fed the second tape into the altar, and the whole process started up again, this time with different but equally remarkable images.

So it went with one tape after another. When Princess Nell became accustomed to the noise and vibration of the Wizard, she began to enjoy the images, which seemed quite artistic to her– like something a human would come up with, and not machinelike at all.

But the Wizard was undoubtedly a machine. She had not yet had the opportunity to study it in detail, but after her experiences in all of King Coyote's other castles, she suspected that it, too, was just another Turing machine. Her study of the Cipherers' Market, and particularly of the rulebooks used by the cipherers to respond to messages, had taught her that for all its complexity, it too was nothing more than another Turing machine. She had come here to the Castle of King Coyote to see whether the King answered his messages according to Turing-like rules. For if he did, then the entire system– the entire kingdom– the entire Land Beyond-was nothing more than a vast Turing machine. And as she had established when she'd been locked up in the dungeon at Castle Turing, communicating with the mysterious Duke by sending messages on a chain, a Turing machine, no matter how complex, was not human. It had no soul. It could not do what a human did.