[Archived Termination Record 6886]

[Archived Termination Record 6886]

[Date:]09/18/2126

[Begin:] //Official Report For The Society//

[Subject:]//Recommendation For Termination//(testimony recorded from the gesture board of human {136-6887-89})

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“What do you need to get through this week?” A softly pitched voice echoed through the grey earpiece that is perched in my right ear. 

“Is there any chance that you could make me a list. I’m planning to visit the market early tomorrow before I go to work.” The same voice echoed back. 

I had studied mathematics in my years of schooling and I had found great joy in the puzzle of numbers. But upon arriving on the job market after graduation I had found myself bored, utterly, crushingly bored, with the work I was doing. The same equations day in day out. Different numbers of course, yet true calculus was distinctly missing. 

Although these days the work is somehow less stimulating. My fingers fly across a gesture board as characters collide together into words on a transparent screen like glasses held in place by the same earpiece that utters human number 162-1217-72’s words into my ear. The gesture board is held in place by a belt that extends an armrest to my right hand, and a quick flick of my fingers records the snippet of 162-1217-72’s life that I had recently overheard into writing. My right eye, and hand are occupied in my work, yet my left side and legs are free to wander around a grim room. 

The room itself is brightly lit, the space is inviting with lots of curves and perfectly timed pleasant angles. But the four corners surrounded by four walls confine me here. Up above the beautiful office space which is social and yet still secluded for productivity, the black curved eye and pivoting lense of a security camera glares down from its comfortable place hidden above the door. 

When my bosses offered me the job of a spy, I did not know this job is what they meant. 

“Excuse me,”  162-1217-72 interupted. They weren't talking to me of course, based on the time of day and their location, they are likely talking to human number 147-6812-47. I’m not responsible for recording this other person's words, I can’t even hear theirs. My work is to record every word that the person I am assigned to speaks, in order to make sure that they are in line with the rules, laws and functions of The Society. My fingers gesture above the apparatus, and the words of 162-1217-72 are recorded. 

When I was offered the position I figured it would be exciting to do such secretive work. They told me at the start, “This job is the single most important of The Society. Your good work ensures the stability of everyone.” Yet I have listened to words of 162 people over my years at this job, and it becomes rather dull. People are not as interesting as I originally thought. 

“How are you today?” Chimed in 162-1217-72, my fingers automatically record the sentence.

“Miserable,” I respond to myself in the isolation of my pleasant office space

“I am well. I hear that the winter crop of melon is coming in strong this year. Have you seen the new moving picture released last week yet?” My fingers jot down the statement and question.  

The Society building, in which I work has three sections, the Ministry of Entertainment, the Ministry of Waste, and the Ministry of Happiness. I am employed by the Ministry of Happiness. It is our job to ensure wellness, equality and happiness for all members of society by any means necessary. 

As a spy, you listen to and record the words of one person at a time, when this person violates a norm or suggests that they are thinking about violating a rule you forward the anonymized file to the Ministry of Waste for ethical termination. A click of steps echoes down the hallway of my office space and a lock clicks open. The gentle sounds of someone arriving at work begin echoing through the space. I lift myself up from the ergonomic chair for a walk around the Ministry of Happiness. It appears that 162-1217-72 has quieted down for a moment. 

I exit my office and stroll to the immaculately maintained garden. Bright flowers bloom in the incandescent lights, and vines venture up the walls to find that they are capped by a ceiling. The lights here are bright as they ignite the marble of the floor and the vibrancy of plant life. It is the only spot I have found that seemingly avoids the eyes of The Society. 

“May I be honest with you for a minute?” The voice of 162-1217-72 echoes through my earpiece. I have been trained that this kind of conversation is the one that you must pay the most attention to.

“I found the most recent moving picture to be revolting. It was unsettling and made me feel insecure and sad.” This is the kind of casual slip up that leads to the most recommendations for ethical termination. The Ministry of Entertainment does not take kindly to critiques of their work. 

My fingers flick across the gesture board recording what they said and mark that I believe that human number 162-1217-72 should be recommended for ethical termination. I have made this recommendation for all of the 162 people I have observed. It is the most miserable part of this job. 

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[End of Testimony]://

[Judgement on the case of human number 136-6887-89: {Guilty} ]

[Reasoning:] //Misery, Sadness, Questioning Authority//

[Forward to the Ministry of Waste for immediate termination]

[Signed:] //Human Number 147-6812-47//