Rosetta Stone: We meet Samson

There had been several occasions when protesters had tried to break into the facility at Nyxll Road. Usually, their intent was to trigger alarm systems and bring the authorities and the media. The media would record them being seized by the constables as their protest signs waved in front of the cameras. When reporters contacted the Council for a statement, though they never lied, whichever councilor spoke as representative would downplay the importance of what was inside the building. The windows were darkened and it was reputed that all sorts of counter-measures were in place to thwart eavesdropping or other snooping technologies.

For the most part, the worst that had ever happened was one time when a couple of very bold youths brought canisters of aeropaint and reproduced their slogans on a large expanse of wall near the front of the building. It was the Creator's provenance however that a security operator within the building had deduced what was about to happen and disabled the automated mechanism that would have hit the young men with a stun charge that would have knocked them unconscious for several hours. It would not be good for the reputation of the Great Commission project to have that happen … particularly in the presence of media cameras. The protesters had a right to their opinions, allowing them to act would bolster their reputations within their community … and aeropaint was easily washed off.

This particular morning however, protesters were specifically trying to avoid setting off the alarm systems. There were no protest signs and no one had memorized a bit of rhetoric to shout to the media. Bypassing the electrified fencing was the easiest bit. During regular hours, protesters had simply walked in through the gates. But today was the Sabbath. The gates were secured and even the guard booth was locked with no one inside. They chose an hour when the majority of the citizens of Cypress would be at worship services throughout the city. While some of the protesters were non-theistic in their beliefs, the majority were followers of the Prophets. One of these was the young man who previously had been allowed by the disabled security protocols to paint the walls, Pullok was his name.

Pullok's father was a minority member of the Council. His father had brought him up disdaining the teachings of Jesus, believing that the prophesied Messiah would come as a conquering king, not as a lowly servant. Lifting a pair of ceramic metal clippers, Pullok waited as one of his associates attached monofilament leads to a section of the fencing. Once Pullok had cut the fencing, the leads would allow the electrical current to bypass the now damaged section without setting off the security protocols. Or at least, that was what they'd assumed. It was also what Samson, the AI of the security system, had been designed to let them believe. When there were no human security personnel present, Samson's systems were designed to keep a constant vigilance on anything that moved within several meters of even the furthest point in the fencing. By the time the protesters had breeched the fence, each of the four men had been identified (two of them had youth records with the authorities, including Pullok who seemed prone to whatever mischief suited his mood) and Samson had made note of any threatening devices they might have with them.

Thus far, Samson had identified the ceramic clippers, two canisters of aeropaint and a small object carried within a duffel bag. Samson released a cloud of sniffer sensors – nanobots which could identify molecules of any chemical threat, explosives, excellerants or biohazards. The protesters would assume them to be gnats, maybe swat at one or two, and then the breeze would carry the sniffers past them having completed their task. Receiving the results of the sniffers, Samson determined that the object in the duffel as possibly an electronic lockpick, the sort that thieves used in breaking into businesses or homes in wealthy neighborhoods. While Samson could think, he did not have the sort of developed AI that would include a concept like humor. He could understand the concept, but understanding why a joke was funny and thinking it was funny are two different matters. Though it was standard programming to record all incursions onto the property, Samson knew that the security personnel would find humor in what was about to happen.

It was a pity that Pullok and his friends could not see what was behind the door that they were attempting to breech. From their standpoint, with three of them looking out for security people or robots or dogs or whatever, Pullok pulled out the device he was carrying in his duffel. About the size of two fists, it had a keypad, several function keys and a display. The door was flush with the wall, having no door frame as you might find in residential construction. Where a doorknob or some sort of locking mechanism might have been, the door was blank. It essentially looked like a blank rectangle set within a wall.

Touching the power switch on the device, Pullok pressed the device against the surface of the door. Since the door was metallic, the magnets on the back of the device held it securely. Pushing a few of the function keys, Pullok started the process of finding what sort of possible keying system was in use on this door. After a few moments, the display indicated that a three tiered security code needed to be entered. As there was no keypad built into the door or surrounding wall, Pullok deduced that the person wishing to gain entry would be carrying a portable device to input their code. Pullok inquired if the device could produce the required response of such a device? It answered in the affirmative. Pullok pressed a few more keys and the device quietly set about finding the needed security code. After a few moments, it lit a green light on its display and instructed, Security code accepted. Push in on door surface to open.

There was a small 'click' as Pullok's hand pressed against the door. The door recessed about three centimeters back into the wall and then slid to one side. Pullok only just had the presence of mind to grab the lockpick before it was smacked against the door frame now revealed. There was a small problem however. Where they should have been looking into an open doorway, as quickly as the one door slid into the wall, a second door slid into place, moved flush to the outer wall and locked securely into place. Unsure if somehow this was the same door or that the device had not worked, Pullok again put the device on the door and started the process over again. A second time, the door was opened, and a second time it was immediately replaced by a third door. The third door however was helpfully painted with a hand written message:

Samson can do this all day!

Can you?

Working title: Rosetta Stone

An excerpt from a story I'm working on.  I would appreciate your thoughts ... but be kind.

Introduction:

Those who followed the Prophets could never quite understand that Jesus was the fulfillment of the very prophecies they gave! Born the only son of the Creator, he was the door that opened out from a life of nothingness and damnation and onto a life of Grace, forgiveness and joy. Such is as it had been since the earliest days and was so now. Two schools of belief existed on Erets: The teachings of the Prophets (unfulfilled) and the teachings of Jesus (fulfilled prophecies). True, there were those who followed other paths, even those who claimed to follow no path at all ...but even small children understood that in order to follow no path at all, you were in essence following a path. Even if it was a path to avoid all the other paths. But such were the claims of the people who'd gathered on the steps of the Great Temple. The news had gone out that the Great Commission was coming to its final phase, that having reached all of Erets, the next step was to reach out to the stars.

And so we begin:

It had been long believed that on the many little lights visible in the night sky that God had created worlds where other races lived. People such as the citizens of this world, maybe even people who knew of the God of Heaven and Erets. But such was a leap of Faith that many did not wish to take. “Leave the heavens to God, we have enough issues to deal with here.”

The crowds milling on the Temple steps were a diverse group. Physicians, lawyers, common laborers, skilled tradesmen … even students and housewives were there. Far up in the Temple tower, Pahr stood, looking down at the scene below. This had been a long day for him. The Temple gates were locked tightly, fearing a rush of protesters wanting to force their way into the Temple Gardens shouting for an audience with the Council. Some on the Council still followed the Prophets, though more and more were siding with those following Jesus. The Jesuine councilors, Pahr included, presently held the majority of the seats on the Council. As such it fell to them to choose the path that the Council would follow during their tenure.

Many years prior, the government of Erets had been established. Following the traditions of the Prophets, the council had been established with council members being considered Judges. Much of this history was running through Pahr's mind as he watched the crowds below. His revelry did not last long however as his personal comm crackled to life with the voice of his wife Clariss, “Pahr, should the guards disburse this crowd or do you even see what is going on?” Inwardly Pahr sighed. In so many ways, Clariss was the perfect mate for him, but on rare occasions like this she almost seemed to think less of his ability to even recognize what was going on.

“Not to worry Clariss. The guards have assured me that the gates are more than up to the task of a crowd twice as big as this. We are safe here.”

“But what if they were to force the gate? What if they brought explosives or cutting tools?”

Looking down through his window, Pahr acknowledged that that would indeed be a problem. He however also knew that there was sensory equipment installed in every possible hiding place throughout the Temple complex that would reveal the presence of any substance or tool that could potentially be used against either the Temple or its inhabitants. The system, nicknamed “Samson” had been installed over the years, with additions and revisions made as technology brought new options to the fore. 

 

“Not to worry dearest. Samson is watching. We shall be fine.” A small chuckle could be heard through the his ear piece as Clariss responded, “I sure wish you'd put as much trust in me as you do in that machine.” Clariss' aversion to just about anything mechanical, let alone computerized was a trait Pahr had always considered endearing. He had to admit however that occasionally it was somewhat frustrating. But he reasoned, he was sure he wasn't always a barrel of fun to deal with either.