The Convergence Project

An excerpt from The End-of-Life Department written last week. It was partly inspired by a Philip K Dick short story Stability and Kafka’s In the Penal Colony. The image accompanying the piece alludes to the fact that Vesper, the story’s protagonist, is a runner.

She entered her office and set her bag beside the desk. Then she pressed a button on her casual outdoor clothes. The material changed colour, and transformed into a blue trouser suit. Before she could sit down, a figure appeared above her desk. It was a hologram of her supervisor, Harper Ravenscroft.

“Good morning, Vesper.”

“Good morning.”

“Would you come to my office, please?”

“Is something wrong?”

Harper’s image paused before answering.

“I would prefer to discuss it in person.”

The hologram vanished. Vesper stood still. Harper had never called her before the working day began. She glanced at the unopened cases on her desk, then left the office. Harper’s room was three floors up. When Vesper entered, her supervisor stood by the window.

“Close the door,” Harper said.

Vesper did so.

“Please, sit.”

She sat in the chair opposite Harper’s desk. Harper took her place across from her.

“How are you feeling this morning?” she asked.

“I’m well.”

“Are you sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“Any difficulty concentrating?”

“No.”

“Have you experienced any gaps in your memory?”

Vesper knotted her brow.

“No.”

“Periods of time you cannot account for?”

“No. Why are you asking me these questions?”

Harper ignored this.

“Are you satisfied with your work?”

“Yes.”

“And with your life outside the department?”

“I believe so.”

“You believe so?”

“I am satisfied with my life,” Vesper said more firmly.

Harper studied her.

“Have you recently felt that you no longer wish to continue?”

Vesper sat back.

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

Harper rested her hands on the desk.

“There is no need to become defensive.”

“I’m not being defensive. I don’t understand why you are asking me these questions.”

For a moment there was silence. Then Harper touched the surface of her desk. A document appeared in the air between them. At the top were the words:

APPLICATION FOR VOLUNTARY TERMINATION

A red stamp had been placed beneath them.

REJECTED

Vesper stared at the name written on the application.

VESPER BRENYAH.

She started to read. The application included her residential ID, employment history, and private passkey insignia. At the bottom was a sentence:

I HAVE LIVED LONG ENOUGH; I DO NOT WISH TO CONTINUE.

Her breath caught. The blood drained from her face. She gripped the sides of the chair, but her hands had already begun to tremble. Harper watched her closely.

“Come now,” she said kindly. “There is no need to take it so hard.”

Vesper did not answer.

“There is still so much to do,” Harper continued. “After all, it isn’t the end of the world.”

Vesper looked up.

“You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?”

“I didn’t submit this.”