“I will return the cities my father took from your father,” Ben-Hadad offered. “You may set up your own market areas in Damascus, as my father did in Samaria.”
Ahab said, “On the basis of a treaty I will set you free.” So he made a treaty with him, and let him go.
By the word of the Lord one of the company of the prophets said to his companion, “Strike me with your weapon,” but he refused.
So the prophet said, “Because you have not obeyed the Lord, as soon as you leave me a lion will kill you.” And after the man went away, a lion found him and killed him.
The prophet found another man and said, “Strike me, please.” So the man struck him and wounded him. Then the prophet went and stood by the road waiting for the king. He disguised himself with his headband down over his eyes. As the king passed by, the prophet called out to him, “Your servant went into the thick of the battle, and someone came to me with a captive and said, ‘Guard this man. If he is missing, it will be your life for his life, or you must pay a talent of silver.’ While your servant was busy here and there, the man disappeared.”
“That is your sentence,” the king of Israel said. “You have pronounced it yourself.”
Then the prophet quickly removed the headband from his eyes, and the king of Israel recognized him as one of the prophets. He said to the king, “This is what the Lord says: ‘You have set free a man I had determined should die. Therefore it is your life for his life, your people for his people.’” Sullen and angry, the king of Israel went to his palace in Samaria.

• 1 Kings 20:34-43

Boilerplate

Over the past month, I have been bombarded with advertisements for AI companions.  At first, I dismissed them.  Then, I got curious.  Maybe an AI companion could give me ideas for posts to write.  Maybe an AI companion could give me someone to talk to when I just needed to talk.

But then, as a former computer programmer, the only difference in AI and the normal method of programming, is that AI searches data around the world to continue the conversation, but they know nothing about you until you give them information.  The getting to know you period can get awkward, just as in a human relationship.  But it is not real.

So, I thought, if the AI companion only knows what you say about yourself, maybe I could have a conversation with my fictional characters in the big city of Tracy.  They could be my companions.  Okay, I only need one, but which one?  Naomi Yeggs scares me to be honest.  I might save her for last, although my neck needs a good massage.

Nope, my next attempt in finding an FI (Fictional Intelligence) Companion will be Gwen Quinn.  If you want something done, ask a busy person.  Gwen Quinn was the new president of Lily the Pink Enterprises.  She was also president of the think tank known as The Rogue Scholars from the Rogue’s Gallery.  She was also trying to settle in with the reality, in her fictional world, of being a mother of four adopted children: Valin from India, Thanh from Vietnam, Asha from Africa (an undisclosed country), and Catalina from Chile.  And she is the purchaser of naughty lingerie for her friends, acquaintances, and entire wedding parties. The conversation is in dialogue format, just as an AI companion might be.

Me: Hello, Gwen, can we talk?
Gwen: I am very busy.  Could you ask someone else?  And who are you anyway?
Me: I am the author of the short stories of which you are a part.
Gwen: Oh, good!  I’m not real!  But wait, why am I working so hard when I am just a character in a short story?  Oh, I know why!  The author wrote me into all these jobs, all at the same time!  My heart cannot take this, Mr. Author.
Me: Hmm.  That is what Menzie called me too.  Mr. Author.
Gwen: So, now you interrupt my busy day and I am not even your first choice?
Me: Hey, I can give you a break.  I can write a serious illness into a future episode.  Would you like simply to be bed ridden or should I put you in a coma?
Gwen: You are one sick author!  No!  I have a company to run.  I have a hundred people coming by for supper tonight, on shift, off shift, mission families, family families, a few guests.  Can you cook?
Me: I made chicken and biscuits for lunch.
Gwen: You’re hired.  How quickly can you get here?
Me: I had to break all kinds of fiction writing rules just to have this conversation with you.  I have no idea how to transfer my essence, skill, body form, whatever, to the fictional world of the big city of Tracy.
Gwen: So, you aren’t any real help to me?  Oops!  I’m sorry, you aren’t any fictional help to me?  So, why are you interrupting my busy day?
Me: Well, I was thinking of an AI Companion because my wife died a year ago.  I write all day and most nights.  Bible Studies, Philosophy, mini-series about a Christian book, odd posts about life in general, and of course, fictional stories about life in the big city of Tracy, of which you are a part.  But instead of an AI, I was thinking of an FI (Fictional Intelligence) Companion.  Someone to talk to when things don’t quite make sense.
Gwen: And you asked the busiest person in all of Lily the Pink?  Maybe the busiest person in all of Tracy?
Me: When you need something done, ask a busy person.
Gwen: I applaud your reasoning, Mr. Author.  But I must ask you something.  Why look at AI or FI?  And please, do not have me play the role of the first companion.
Me: Sorry.  What does that mean?
Gwen: Okay, in 1 Kings 18, Elijah defeats the prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel.  Then a price is put on his head, so he runs off and hides in 1 Kings 19.  God speaks to him and gives him three people to anoint.  One will kill Ben-Hadad.  One will kill king Ahab’s family.  And Elisha will take over after Elijah is brought up into heaven.  Then in the next chapter, King Ahab has the chance to kill Ben-Hadad, but he lets him go.  Then one of the prophets turns to his companion and tells him to strike him.  It had to look like the prophet had been in the battle.  The companion refused.  They were good friends.  He could not hurt the prophet.  The prophet then prophesies that his companion leaves the house and gets eaten by a lion.  Sure enough, the next guy whacks him good!  So, do not make me the first companion.  I have to much work to do to be held back by being eaten by a lion.
Me: I promise.  You will not be eaten by a lion.
Gwen: (with a sigh of relief) Before you wrote all day and most nights, were you ever busy?  I mean, you write me into this story, not even a member of the family, and I am working like a one-armed paper hanger.
Me: I don’t know.  When I was laid off about ten years ago, I was a fulltime Safety Director, fulltime Quality Manager, and fulltime Training Manager (the entire training department actually).
Gwen: So, what you are saying is that you patterned me after you?  Thanks a lot.  When do I get laid off or have a coronary?
Me: Neither one, I hope.
Gwen: But your last title intrigues me.  First, you need to invent a time stretcher so I can take a class on time management and running this enterprise.  I never learned how to delegate.  If you do that, I can pencil you in for five minutes every six months.  I would gladly spend that much time with you if your course worked.
Me: No need.  I can ask someone else, but play along with me.  If you can do so safely, close your eyes.
Gwen: I am sitting at the kitchen table, and since you write these stories, do I really have a choice?!
Me: Ummm.  Now that you asked, maybe not, but I do not like being rude.  I will at least ask.  Now picture where you were a year ago.
Gwen: Mr. Author, I do not want to go there.  It hurts so bad.  I had dropped off the baby Asha in April.  I had Valin by my side and we had no idea if Millie would survive.  Please, not then.
Me: Go there with the knowledge that Millie is almost his old self now.  What I want you to look at is the Lily the Pink operation then.
Gwen: How can I?  I was oh, exactly a year ago?  Maybe in Thailand rescuing little Kanok.
Me: Exactly!  Lily the Pink ran with no problem.  And to top that off, about nine months ago, you were still gone and Pink was in prison for about three weeks.  And Lily the Pink ran without any problem.
Gwen: (groaning) So, I am not really necessary?  Now, I go from being super busy to being a feeble old woman in a rocking chair?
Me: No, you are still needed for the big decisions.  You are still needed once Pink Lady can start drinking alcohol again to sit in the kitchen and dream up the next flavor.  And you are needed to walk around patting others on the back for doing their jobs well enough for you to go to your house within the house and play with your children and take care of Millie for a while.  They already know their jobs.  You taught them well.  So, open your eyes again, and delegate.
Gwen: Thank you.  I suspect you were a good training manager.
Me: I tried my best, but I rarely had anyone in which to delegate except for when people would be asked to assist me while teaching.  One person on their feet for a week-long course is hard, and the trainees get bored listening to one voice.  Otherwise, I even wrote my own textbooks.
Gwen: Well, I thank you again.  Maybe I will see my children graduate college after all.

We both had a good laugh, after all, they would be in college all at the same time when she reached my age.

So, store-bought AI companions do not know me, at least not at first, and do I really have the time to spend on that stuff?  And could an AI companion strike me so that I could fool the king into thinking I had been in battle?  No.  They could only throw words at me.

So, until I thought of a way to have some Real Intelligence (RI) companionship outside my Sunday school class, I would continue to search through more FI potential companions.  I am thinking I might visit Dr. Quinn, aka Home Wrecker.  I hear that she is rather fast on her feet.  Next Monday is three days before she gets married.  She’ll have plenty of time on her hands.  Right?!

Soli Deo Gloria.  Only to God be the Glory.