A Good Death

A Good Death

Trigger Warning: Assisted Suicide, corporate assassination

If you are what you do, then Nova was death. Or at least death’s delivery girl.

She worked for a multinational firm that offered complete deathcare solutions to wealthy clients. For an exorbitant fee (with a suite of legacy upsells that included pet-rehoming and manuscript publication), the company took care of a client’s dying wishes. They promised certainty about death and legacy. Everything was taken care of. This included guaranteed inheritance to the chosen heir, whether it be a gerbil or a pool boy. 

Most importantly, death was humane: quick, painless, and unexpected. This was the core service. Nova was just a service delivery person. Personally, she considered herself either an angel of mercy or a deathcare professional, depending on the day. 

At first, Nova hadn’t been sure where she stood on assisted dying. But rigorous employee training had quieted her concerns to a dull murmur that she could easily tune out.

The firm argued that people who want to die drain the system’s limited resources to serve people who want to live. In a way, Nova preferred working for a deathcare company that reduced insurance rates and procedure wait times than for a healthcare company that gouged the poor for insulin. There was a grim moral correctness about ushering elites to the afterlife after a lifetime exploiting the lower classes.

The firm called it a return to tradition. They cited King George V, who in 1936 had been given a lethal dose of morphine and cocaine to hasten his death so that it made the morning papers.

A more convenient death.

If it was good enough for a monarch… who was Nova to judge?

Believing that no one should have to suffer and secure in the knowledge that clients chose this for themselves, Nova could sweep her concerns into a mental compartment to ignore them indefinitely. 

The method of un-aliving someone was an R&D achievement. The dose was humane. The brain never registered pain. Death was instantaneous - no slow spreading sleep, no panicked moments where the brain realized the heart was no longer pumping oxygen. The person was and then they simply weren't. The firm had put so many bureaucratic barriers in place that cause of death was practically untraceable. Family members could rest assured - their loved one died peacefully in their sleep - of natural causes.

All things considered, it was a good death.

Besides which, Nova only had three assignments before her contract expired. She was still debating whether she would exercise her option to renew or take the 401k and lifelong property lease they offered on retirement. Her career choices had made it difficult to socialize and make small talk. She always shied away from questions about work. She could only tell people that she worked in a facility that provided on demand medical services, including assisted dying. The company was so secretive that Nova often wondered how they found clients. 

On her present quest to un-alive a client, Nova was digging her shoes into the cracks of a brick wall as she pulled herself hand-over-hand up a drainpipe. It was exhilarating climbing through a window and gently delivering the touch of un-living. As she reached the final stretch to the window ledge, she looked up at her watch. No other people in the old-ivy covered house. Good. One client. One dose. That was all she had. Un-aliving family members was murder. People who lived with others were counseled to travel alone and note down family schedules in their profiles, which Nova never read.

“Why lock the doors and leave the bedroom window open,” she wondered to herself. 

Nova pulled herself up onto the ledge and rested on her elbows for a moment. The room was quiet. Her watch showed the client’s biometric signature; it matched the half-naked form she saw on the bed. Good. No other humans. No pets. No need to reschedule this date with death.

She swung her legs over the ledge and silently dropped to the floor.

Nova preferred to know nothing about her clients. She would catch the barest glimpse of skin as she delivered the fatal salve to a neck or clavicle, but she never saw the face. What really mattered to Nova was that the client was always asleep when she delivered the dose. If the client stirred, Nova fled and rescheduled.

Despite this, Nova had never failed an assignment. She had a strong sense that it wouldn’t go over well. She peeled back the sterile, single use plastic foil, and rubbed the dosed side across her gloved fingers.

She crept towards the bed.

She was expecting a withered and frail body. 

But he looked young, strong, healthy.

It took her a moment to realize that he also looked at her.

Nova felt her shoulders tighten and knees lock. This had never happened before. The biometric indicator showed a strong positive. The haptic feedback engaged as she got closer. He was definitely the client.

“I knew you’d come.”

In one swift movement, he sat up, still staring at her. She could only see an athletic silhouette in the dark.

Nova froze.

Her lips trembled. Her mind raced. He was still a figure, a silhouette in the dark, but he had the ghostly outline of a face, and that was more detail than she ever wanted to see. Although she couldn’t see them in the dark, she could feel his eyes boring into her. She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Finally, she found the words and spoke. 

“Go back to sleep.”

“Or what?” he sounded amused. His legs traveled towards the edge of the bed. 

Nova quickly scanned the room. The window was two, three paces away. Two and a half stories up. A leap would break bones. Careful climb? Too slow. Door? Possible security cameras, and the lower doors were locked. Maybe nasty surprises. Not a clear path. 

“What are you going to do?” A long silent moment passed, with nothing but the ticking of the clock on the wall. His laugh sounded slightly unhinged.

“I’m the client, aren’t I? Aren’t you here because I chose how I die?”

Nova didn’t like him taunting her. She found her voice again. “Look, I'm just here to do a job. Why would you pay for a service you didn’t want?” 

“I didn't pay you.” He said flatly. “They did.” He pointed at her, no, at her watch.

Nova’s heart thumped against her chest. She’d seen so many clients, but this was wrong. It went against protocol.  

“Who are you?!” she immediately regretted asking. She never wanted to know. She couldn’t see them as people. They were suffering numbers, biometric blips. Statistics in a cruel unfeeling system. They had to be numbers. She couldn’t look someone in the eye, deliver death, and see them as a number.

 “I’m Brian. A better question is who are you?” His began to stand. But she felt like showing weakness and stepping back would be dangerous. The dose was still in her balled fist.

“Just someone with a job to do. I’ll have to report this.”

“You should, but you won’t. Too much paperwork. No matter how good the 401k, the flexible deadlines, the lifelong property leases… your job is to give people painless, traceless deaths. They count on not being the sort of employer you feel comfortable crossing.”

Nova’s heart thumped in her chest. She started backing up towards the window. Brian knew the firm’s offer. No more student loans, ramen dinners, failed interviews… In a world that equated capital with moral goodness, it was a dream job, if you glossed over the work itself.

“I’ll just come back another time.” It sounded absurd even as she said it. She wasn’t a postal worker who had walked into a garden to find the addressee sunbathing nude. She began to back towards the window, slowly.

“I used to have your job, you know.” Brian stood up.

Nova stopped moving.

“And I didn’t hire you. The company did.”

Somewhere in her mind, Nova could feel a thin pane of glass shattering. She felt hot and cold, dizzy and weak.

“Why?” She croaked out a question she already knew the answer to.

He laughed. 

“Die on your own terms? Check the fine print of your contract. You’re chipped to keep you safe.” his fingers traced quotes in the air and his voice had a bitter edge. “It’s the same tech they put in clients. A mandatory ‘benefit’ of employment. Contract section 13-dash-9. Threat neutralization, for which the firm is the sole arbiter.” He laughed again, shaking his head. “But none of us ever read the fine print.”

The firm took care of everything. They wouldn’t leave loose ends.

“Don’t worry - your dependencies will be taken care of - pets will be found. Lovely homes.” Now that her vision had adjusted fully to the dim light, Nova could see his eyes rolling.

Would she be discarded when the company was done with her? Just two more clients after Brian. She ran the fingers of her left hand through her hair nervously. Oh no! He was a named person now.

“Why am I one of your last jobs?” He smiled at the spreading realization on her face. “Yes, that’s it. It’s a test.” 

Adrenaline pushed Nova through the waves of nausea and light headedness. She stared at Brian’s chest, and reeled backwards a moment, catching herself. Reminding herself that the fatal dose was still clutched in her palm.

“Sweetheart. If you're gonna kill me, at least look me in the eye.” Brian said.

“I never do.” Nova said.

Brian took a step back in surprise “What?! But then, you don’t even have the satisfaction! You're no fun at all.”

“It's just a job.” She said. 

“A job?” he laughed. “You’re an angel of death, and you call it a job?” He was silent, thinking a moment. “I bet you make the people with HR very proud.”

Nova tensed.

“Look at you, too self-involved to take a personal interest in your clients.” Brian taunted her.  

It churned Nova’s stomach to think about how much Brian had taken interest in them. He leaned forward. 

“Look them in the eye. Have a personal conversation. Let them know it’s their time to go.”

“That's not what they paid for.” Nova said, feeling an increasing sense of panic. 

“I provided a personalized service. The angel of death. Sometimes, if they were religious, I even wore wings,” he sounded nostalgic.

“Is that what I'm here for? Your deathbed confessional?” Nova asked. 

“Or yours.” he sounded sinister.  “We'll see how it goes.” But Nova had made up her mind.

“I'm not going to kill you, Brian.” 

“You will. I didn't pay for it, but I still have to go. I know a lot about the people you work for. Ever wondered what happens if you’re fired? Five years, right? How many cases, I wonder.”

Nova tried to focus on the moment, the floor beneath her feet, the man in front of her, but her mind was screaming now, hundreds, hundreds, a shocking number!

“Look at you, you've saved the system millions of dollars. You've opened up health care spots for people who need them. Hope you're proud of yourself.”

“What do you want from me, Brian?”

“I want the service I gave my clients. I want you to ask me what my hopes and fears are. I want you to beg me to please change my mind. I want to wait with resolution while you touch me.” he was tracing his finger along her jawline now. But she was rooted to the spot, fist still closed, staring at his shoulders.

“I’m not looking at your face.” 

“So, you are going to kill me then?” He paused. Shook his head.  “At least I gave my clients a meaningful death. Human life used to be so sacred.” 

The dose’s viability was rapidly running out. In a minute or two more of exposure to air, it would have completely evaporated. Nova weighed her options and selected the least morally deficient one.

“You know how to administer the dose? I could give you the ultimate control.” aggravatingly, he shrugged. And launched into a final monologue.

“One day, it'll be your time. Maybe when you’re old. Maybe next week.” he paused.

“No one knows the hour of their death, but I knew this was coming. It's spring,” he laughed. “College recruitment. They'd have someone near the end of their career, like you, come in and do me. Someone to test.”

“I enjoyed my work. Never got into med school. But I always found it fascinating how the human body could just… shut off..

There was silence. Nova realized it had started to rain. Droplets plunked off the clay roof tiles, and the wind shushed through the trees.

He wasn’t going to do it himself. It pained her to use his name, but she needed him to ask. “Brian. Do you want to die?” 

“You have to do your job.” He said, “You have to administer the dose.”

“And if I don't?”

“Do you really want to find out?”

She didn’t - but the dose would be harmless soon, and there wouldn’t be an option. He stepped closer.

“Make it a suppository.” He winked.

“I think I made an antidote. If it works, I’ll fall into a harmless sleep and wake up tomorrow. You can go back to your boss and tell them you put me down, just like you were supposed to.” He stood close to her, whispering the last few words in her ear.

She reached forward.

“Self-preservation. Good choice.” Brian tilted his head and pulled her into a kiss. Nova tasted whiskey on his lips. Almost instinctively, she placed her hand on his neck. The oxidized dose was slower than usual. She felt him weaken. He let out a contented sigh. Relief. 

Nova lowered Brian to the bed and tucked the blankets up around him.

Just asleep, he'd said. He found a way to fake his death.

Nova couldn’t hear him breathe. The blankets weren’t rising and falling. She placed her face near his. No warm breath, only the stench of liquid courage.

Secretly she hoped he had found a way out. Maybe death was it.

She sighed. It was over.

She could report that the job was done.

She had two more clients. Two more. Faceless nameless clients.

Nova tried to flick away an idle thought. She didn't know when death would come for her.

In a year or two when the weight of her choices crashed down? When she aged and her mind started to crack? In a week?

It would come. Relentlessly. Noiselessly. Painlessly. And no one would ever know why.

Brian just wanted his death to matter.

But nothing had changed. And that was the lie she kept telling herself as she tried to stop her body from shaking.