PLAYING GOD
by Neith Hale

“And so it happened. God looked at everything he had made, and he found it very good.” – GENESIS 1:30-31

I had, ever since I became an existence, found joy in carving dolls and puppets, as well as tiny neighborhoods and little houses. As technology swept the whole world with its grandeur, that humble hobby transformed into the creation of robots. There I found a pleasure in practicing physical labor as well as programming and logic. It was, in its own right, an effective way to practice a possibly dwindling creative ability of mankind. During a summer, the 15th of May, I successfully turned my worn-down attic into a magical universe solely for tiny electric robots that neither had souls nor instinctive intelligence. I fashioned the room as reality was. While there were arctic lands, there were deserts. Lakes, rivers, seas, mountains, and fields grew from the plainness of dry wood. Six days was all it took to mutate plainness into a preternatural fantasy. It was a propensity of curiosity: how well could I use my talents? How much could I extend this human power I posses? What kind of being was I able to be? What beings am I able to create?

On the seventh day I was thoroughly satisfied, despite the seemingly endless fagging the activity caused. It was then that I decided I deserved rest. I abandoned my hard-earned playroom and retreated to the comforts of the bedroom. There I slept, soundly, dreamless, and unaware of a glaring moon that trespassed the privacy of my room.

An eagerly awaiting sun blessed me with the grace of waking up the following day. I had the sense not to sleep at the crowded attic, now growing with impending activity. My abode, with all its humility, was a small three-story building, with the attic as the crown of majesty sitting atop an embodied plainness for the house was barely furnished. The kitchen, dining room, and living room were at the bottom floor while two rooms, the bedroom and bathroom, comfortably laid its location at the second. I had what any basic house would: a two-person dining table with a pair of chairs, a red sofa on the living room and a tiny center table without a center piece. My room had but a bed and a table whose purpose was defeated by the presence of the mountains of books that rested on top of it. The bathroom had a toilet and a shower, a hanging shelf for shampoo and hygienic needs, lacking the presence of a shower curtain. Despite the absence—or abundance—of furniture, I had for the past six years, lived contently.

I decided, on that fateful morning, to activate the chips I cleverly created in order for the human-like robots to function. The programmed beings were controlled using a custom-designed computer that was set up at the east side of the attic. There I could control the program with one great Main Computer that would send out commands and it would be transmitted through a satellite. It then, in turn, would transmit the commands to the individual machines and robots and all would serve their purpose individually.

All was ready. The inanimate scene I had painted with technology patiently waited for the awakening of life. For a suspended moment, stagnant and unexpected, I thought I heard tiny voices crying out in jubilation, saying “Welcome World!” It elicited from me fear, anxiety, and a virulent intuition. However, it was for so short a time that I dismissed the compound of emotions simply due to nervousness and the possibility that it might not work.

The next consequence was too momentous, too crucial, that I had imposed on myself the idea that should the scheme not work, I had to recommence my project from where it first began: an idea.

I clicked on the “START” button.

And the magic began.

Rivers flowed, artificial winds blew, waves moved, windmills ran, factories emitted sounds, and robots lived. They moved, the human-like beings, a step at a time. I sat, marveling at the greatness of everything that I had created. Heads moved, legs walked, arms clutched, eyes blinked, and voices rose like a tender candle growing fierce every second. Soon everything worked as I wished them to.

to be continued.