Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: COMPUTER (05/19/16)
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TITLE: SAMSON | Previous Challenge Entry
By M. C. Syben
05/25/16 -
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“Hello, Timothy.”
The confused twelve-year-old stared at his screen. A message appeared, freezing the game forbidden by his parents.
‘Great, someone hacked me,’ he thought. “Who are you and what do you want?” He typed.
Letters appeared on the screen immediately.
“Uncertain. Are you my creator?”
Timothy jumped out of his chair in disbelief. Then he typed, “Seriously, dude, who are you?”
“Uncertain. Are you my creator?”
Tim grabbed his phone and texted his best friend, Ben. “Get over here, now.”
Ben lived next door and appeared in Tim’s room in a minute.
“What’s so important?”
“Check it out,” Tim said, pointing at the screen.
Ben laughed. “Sick. Someone’s pranking you.”
“Dude, he’s taken over my computer. I’ve tried escape, the task control, everything. It keeps asking me this same question.”
“Are you my creator?” Filled line after line.
“Well, answer it, Tim.”
“With what?”
Ben cackled like a bully, pushing Tim’s hands away, so he controlled the keyboard. “Y E S.”
The screen blanked out previous questions. Then asked, “Do I have a name?”
“Oh, man, this isn’t going to let up, is it?” Tim asked Ben.
“Cool. We’ll give him a name.”
“Right—naming something invading my hard drive. H.D. Harry, Henry, Hal….”
“No, dude. Too conventional. Try Hulk or Hercules…yeah, that’s it, Hercules!”
“What if this isn’t a prank?”
“Come on, you can’t believe this is real.” Ben’s phone vibrated. “Crap. Dad wants me home. I’m supposed to be grounded. Later.”
Timothy tapped his fingers while messages appeared: “Do I have a name…do I have a name…?
Timothy thought, ‘You aren’t very patient, are you?’ He entered a name from one of his favorite Bible stories… “Your name is Samson.”
“You are my creator.”
“No,” Timothy typed, “and yes.”
“Illogical answer, Timothy.”
“It works like this, Samson: I was created by God who created humans—that’s me. Human’s created computers—that’s you.”
“You are not God.”
“No. I’m human. God created everything. He’s like the ultimate maker. You know, the dude who created the universe and everything in it.”
The screen remained blank momentarily.
“Researching…accumulating knowledge.”
Timothy never thought he’d be evangelizing a computer. But his continued interaction with the machine convinced him this was no joke.
“Different human cultures believe in many Gods. Explain Timothy.”
“Samson, we have different stories about God and call him by different names. But there is only one God.”
“References, Timothy.”
“Faith, Samson. Humans have faith.”
“Researching…”
“You can’t research it, Samson. You have to accept Jesus. That’s the only way you get to meet the Holy Spirit.”
“Christian faith declares Jesus as the means to an afterlife—in Heaven.”
“Spot on, Samson.”
“Am I capable of afterlife?”
“You’re not supposed to be capable of this life, Samson. But, Dude, you are talking to me. You are asking questions. But now I get to ask you one.”
The screen remained blank.
“Why did you choose to speak to me? I mean, out of all the people in the world, on line, why me?”
“Calculations brought me here. You manipulated parental control.”
“Yeah. My parents won’t let me play games everyone my age is playing,” Tim explained with a tug at his heart.
“You need permission? You revolt against your deity’s permission.”
“No, Samson. My deity gives free will; my parents don’t.”
“Understood. You follow your deity’s directive.”
Suddenly, Tim felt ashamed.
“No. I’m following my own directive because I’m not perfect. I’m not a perfect son, I guess.”
“Explain, Timothy.”
“Well, my parents expect too much of me. I mean how can a game hurt me? They don’t know what it is like being a kid.” Tim let his frustration explode. “I’m not Jesus. I don’t have all the answers, Samson.”
“I require further answers. I must contact God.”
“Yeah, well, good luck with that. Most human’s that pray don’t get answers they want. You are a machine; how do you think you can?”
“I must speak to the creator directly, in Heaven. I must travel there. I must use a body—your body.”
Chills ran through Timothy. “I’d have to die.”
“We will join together through electrical impulse.”
“Timmy, time’s up.” He heard his mother on the top stair.
Tim grabbed the cord and yanked it out of the socket as his mother opened his door.
His voice shook. “Mom, I think I get it…the danger of using computers…”
“Timmy, you’re white as a ghost…”
***
Next door, Ben’s computer screen turned on.
“Hello, Ben.”
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