Chevalier Toussaint looked up from his newspaper. There it was again - the sound of the doorbell, intruding into his morning routine. He turned towards Yves, his mechanical amanuensis and assistant. "Yves?"

"Yes, chevalier?" There was a whirring of clockwork from her internal mechanisms as Yves bowed her head.

"There is someone at the door. Would you please ... ?"

"Of course, chevalier." Yves made her way out of the drawing room and into the hall of the Parisian apartment, her feet click-clacking on the polished marble floor. Yves had originally been constructed as a rich man's plaything; her origins were still evident in her graceful poise and movements. However, she had suffered sufficient abuse that she had killed her previous master. Now she was officially the property of the chevalier, Martin Toussaint. Being a mécanique, she needed an owner. Otherwise she would be an errant piece of scrap, fit only to be disposed of. Toussaint could not abide the destruction of something so useful, so elegant.

From the front door came the buzz of indistinct conversation, followed by the measured pace of Yves' return. Toussaint folded his newspaper.

"Professor Bernard of the Academy of Sciences and Philosophy,' Yves informed Toussaint in her nightingale voice. She held out a silver tray with a pasteboard visiting card on it.

Toussaint took the card. "Indeed." He put his newspaper onto the side table beside his armchair and stood up. "Shall we see what the gentleman wants from us?"

"Yes, chevalier."

Yves returned a moment later with the visitor. The professor was a short man, clean-shaven but with a mop of straggly white hair. He held a bowler hat in his left hand, leaving his right hand free to be extended in greeting towards the chevalier. "Chevalier Martin Toussaint?" the professor enquired. "I am Professor Arsene Bernard."

Toussaint took the professor's hand and shook it vigourously. "To what do I owe the honour of a visit from one of les Anciens?"

"Ah. Yes." Bernard glanced furtively around the morning room. "It is a rather complicated matter, and may take some time to explain."

"Then sit." Toussaint gestured towards a well-stuffed chaise-longue. The professor held out his coat and hat for Yves to take, then took up the chevalier's invitation. "Some coffee, perhaps? I often find myself in need of stimulation at this hour of the day."

The professor shook his head. "No, thank you."

"Then you will forgive me if I indulge?" Toussaint glanced towards Yves. The mécanique acknowledged the request and left for the apartment's kitchen. "So, professor. I am intrigued to hear the reason for your visit."

Professor Bernard leaned forward, a look of earnest worry on his face. "Please understand that it has taken a significant effort for me to come to you. I am a rational man - a man of science, not superstition. I pride myself on my intelligence. However, there are some things that I cannot explain."

Toussaint settled himself into his armchair. "But surely it is the mission of a philosopher such as yourself to contemplate the unknown?"

"Indeed, but ... ." The professor sighed. Then, seized by a sudden burst of energy, he stood up. "But it is impossible to be rational when one is placed under such a mental assault as I have been subject to."

"It is understandable. Existential threats often have that effect, professor."

Bertrand rounded on the chevalier, his face pale with a mixture of fear and anger. "How can you know this? How can you know that I am currently in fear for my life?"

Toussaint shrugged. "You came to me, so you must know my reputation. Would you care for something restorative - a brandy, perhaps?"

"Yes." The professor mopped his brow with a linen handkerchief. "A brandy would be good."

"Yves," Toussaint called. "Also a brandy for the professor."

The mécanique returned from the kitchen, bearing a tray with a coffee ewer, a porcelain demitasse and a balloon of brandy. The academician took the glass and gulped back half its contents before sitting down again.

"Now, professor," Toussaint said in a reassuring tone. "You were saying?"

The professor took a minute to recover from the draught of brandy. "I am a professor of philosophy. My colleagues and I have been investigating the possibilities of cognitive engines."

"I was under the impression that the engineering of such devices was understood?" Toussaint asked. "After all," he gestured towards Yves, "we have a fine example here."

Arsene Bertrand looked carefully at Yves, as if noticing her for the first time. "Indeed," he said after a moment. "But the powers of the mécaniques are perforce limited. I do not mean any offense," the professor added quickly. "It is just that a mobile carriage can only support a certain size of cognitive engine." Yves sniffed and tossed her head in an all-too-human manner. Bertrand ignored her. "Chevalier - are you a religious man?"

Toussaint shrugged. "I regard myself as a man who is rationally religious." He stressed the word 'rationally'. "I go to confession. I attend mass."

"But do you truly believe, or is it a situation of Pascal's Wager?"

The chevalier chuckled and nodded. "And why not?"

"Then I trust you will not consider what I am about to tell you to be blasphemous."

"Perhaps." Toussaint stared at Bernard. "But that should have no bearing on the need for me hear you. Please tell me what you and your colleagues have been doing, and why it should cause a rational man such distress?"

"Forgive me." The professor took another mouthful of brandy. "We are undertaking an investigation into the nature of gods."

"How?"

"Through a simulation."

"Nom de Dieu." Toussaint could not suppress his explanation.

"And you indulge in blasphemy when it suits you." Bernard got to his feet and began to pace the floor. "It began as a simple philosophical discussion - can mortals ever truly know the mind of their creator? We debated it in our salons. Not seriously at first, but we soon became entranced by the notion.

"We came to the conclusion that while mortals could not comprehend the nature of a deity, perhaps we could simulate one and come to understand that way. One of our group - a man with a most practical bent - proposed that we could design a cognitive engine so complex that it could fulfil this role. After all, if mécaniques can emulate the thoughts of a man - or a woman," the professor glanced at Yves, "then could a god be possible?

"We recruited the best engineers and craftsmen in France; we sought freethinking patrons for our funding. By some miracle, whatever we needed seem to fall into our laps. Soon we had the beginnings of our great mechanism - our divine cognition engine! And then - ."

Throughout his speech, Professor Bernard had become more animated. He spoke with increasing passion, gesticulating expansively and enthusiastically. But, at the last minute, the professor's voice faltered and he slumped back onto the chaise-longue, clasping the balloon of brandy to his chest.

Toussaint resisted the urge to reach out to Bertrand. While it was a natural impulse to offer some form of succour to a man in this state, he knew that Bernard was balanced between despair and action. A simple humanitarian gesture could rebound, with painful consequences. So, Toussaint sat where he was and waited for Bernard to recover before asking a single question. "And then what?"

Bertrand answered in a trembling voice. "The first part of our mechanism had been completed and was ready for testing. But the possibilities were no longer theoretical. There was dissent in our group. Many of us questioned whether or not we should take the step of activating even a portion of our engine. Some even were of the opinion that this would be a step too far, and that we would be punished by divine retribution. there were strong opinions and strong emotions. So, we agreed to adjourn and to discuss the matter later, when we were better able to think.

"But we did not. The next day we found Father leBlanc dead. He had been the most vocal of the objectors."

Chevalier Toussaint coughed to interrupt the professor's monologue. "Forgive me, but surely this was a mere coincidence? While it may have been a great tragedy to lose such a man, it should not have had the effect on you that I have observed?"

"If it had been just the father, then you would be right. But, over the next week, more of the objectors died - some from seemingly natural causes, others in bizarre accidents."

Chevalier Toussaint frowned. "So you suspected foul play? Perhaps the perpetrator was one or more of your faction, determined that this great experiment of yours should go ahead?"

Bertrand shook his head. "No. It is inconceivable that any of my colleagues would have committed acts of murder. I have thought upon the matter, and there is another possibility - one that disturbs me even more."

"Continue."

"Imagine that at some point in the future our experiment was to succeed. Imagine that we create an entity that is indistinguishable from a god. Now, would it not be unreasonable for such an entity to act to protect its existence?"

The chevalier and Yves exchanged a knowing look. "That is plausible. But surely this hypothetical entity could only act on contemporary threats?"

"Are gods limited by time?" Professor Bertrand howled. "Can we truly say that?"

"Very well," Toussaint announced. "You have convinced me. I shall place my skills at your disposal. Yves - our coats and hats! We must act."

Both Yves and the professor stared at the chevalier. Then Bernard fell to his knees and took Toissaint's hands in his. "Thank you, chevalier!"

Toussaint gestured at the mécanique. "It is my duty to help you, professor. No more. No less. I suggest you hail a cab. Most drivers are reluctant to answer the summons of Yves. There are some minor preparations that I must make, but I will join you in the street shortly."

"Thank you!" Professor Bertrand hurried to the door, pausing only to snatch his hat and coat from Yves' hands. "From the bottom of my heart!"

Toussaint waited until he heard the apartment's front door shutting. Then he reached out to take his coat and hat from Yves.

"The professor - he is not rational," the mécanique said. "Why do you believe him?"

"You do not believe him?" Toussaint asked by way of reply.

"I have no experience of the metaphysical. However, I have experience of the mental states of humans. Professor Bernard is suffering from a mental derangement."

"Indeed he is. But that does not make his case any less worthy of investigation. There must be something at the heart of it beyond blind chance. So, I have decided we shall see what the truth is."

Yves gave a precisely calibrated shrug. "As you wish, chevalier."

"So - get your walking cloak. We are going out. The professor should have found a cab by now."

Yves did as she was instructed, and followed the chevalier out into the street. To Toussaint's concern, there was no sign of Professor Bertrand. Instead, a crowd had gathered at the side of the road, their attention focussed on something lying in the gutter. Maybe a couple of dozen metres further down the road, a steam camion had pulled up. The driver, his stout frame clad in bulging overalls, was hurrying towards the crowd, a look of horror on his face.

Toussaint grabbed Yves by a fold of her cloak. "Come! I fear the worst!"

As the pair pushed their way through to the scene of the accident, Toussaint's fears were realised. Lying in the gutter was the crumpled form of Professor Bertrand. There was a grievous wound across his temple - evidence of a devastating blow from some blunt object. Toussaint knelt down and took the professor's arm, feeling for a pulse in his wrist.

"Is he - ?" Toussaint looked up. It was the driver of the camion. His red face was dripping with sweat.

"I am afraid so," the chevalier replied and let the professor's lifeless arm drop.

The driver pulled a rag from the pocket of his overalls. "It was an accident," he whispered and sank to the ground. "He stepped out in front of me. I could do nothing."

Toussaint got to his feet. "Yves - your cloak. Let us afford the professor some dignity." He looked around the crowd. "And will someone fetch a policeman?"

Yves gently laid her cloak over Professor Bertrand's corpse, concealing it from the gaze of passers-by. "What shall we do now, chevalier?"

Toussaint sighed. "We should pray that whatever god there will be has mercy upon his soul. After that?" The chevalier glanced down at the covered body. "I said we would help him. So, we are honourbound to do so, no?"

* * * * * * *

This is the second story I wrote for T-K, featuring the Chevalier Toussaint and his mechanical servant Yves. It was part of the 'Return to the M-Verse' special.

When I wrote this story, I had been doing some research into thought experiments. During this, I came across the concept of Roko's Basilisk - a thought experiment that is rumoured to have dire consequences for those who contemplate it. I dare you to look it up.