THE WORST JOB IN THE WORLD

THE WORST JOB IN THE WORLD

“Hello. Welcome. Do you have any jewellery on you? Any metal objects? Cell phone? Are you on medication of any kind? Please remove all clothing and, when you’re ready, step back outside. Thank you”.

The long dark haired, pretty faced orderly smiled reassuringly at the latest patient as she took the name tag the old woman handed her and ticked off the name on her clipboard. The gold coloured, metal badge pinned to the medical assistant’s white coat read Reza. Reza’s voice generator, programmed to mimic human speech, warbled robotically, the only sign that she was, in fact, an android.

As the old woman exited the cubicle, dressed only in a disposable, paper gown, she was greeted by a tall, blonde, good looking, male assistant also dressed in a white lab coat whose own metal name badge said Ezra.

“Hello. How are you, today? Now, can I just get you to lie down on the bed with your feet on the red line. Excellent. Well done. Now, relax your head. Perfect. Now, I’m going to pull down the canopy. Can you still hear me? Good. You’ll hear some music in a moment. Just relax and enjoy”.

Ezra stepped away from the pod and pressed a button on the side of the computerised machine. Instantly, the old woman disappeared leaving only a small vapour. Ezra waited just a moment, then lifted the canopy releasing a slight stench of burning. He pressed another button activating a powerful, hydraulic exhaust fan that swiftly sucked up the odour as he, in rhythmic fashion, took a hygienic wipe from a box and wiped down the bed before switching off the exhaust and signalling to his colleague, Reza, that he was ready.

“Next”.

This time, it was a man who entered the operating theatre. He was strongly built, full head of hair and looked nowhere near the age of seventy. He handed his name tag to Reza.

“Hello. Welcome. Do you have any jewellery on you? Any metal

objects..?."

That night, after the Tasty Clinic had closed, the two droids sat together in silence in the charging room, the seperate leads from a generator plugged into each of their torsos. With their clothing removed, their metal carcasses were fully exposed; only their heads and hands perfectly replicating that of humans. They would usually sit like this all night and, on a signal from the generator that they had been fully re-charged, would rise and prepare for yet another day’s “work.”

“Work” entailed the disposal of human beings who had reached the age of seventy and the line of mandatory euthanasia patients each day was carefully calculated to achieve the daily quota decreed by the government. Hundreds of these clinics, long in the planning, had sprung up overnight across the country following the passing of the new law; a move felt necessary in order to control the population growth of the planet. Due to the reference to the biblical life term allotted to man: Three Score Years And Ten, the public had quickly taken these letters and ascribed the name of TASTY to such places of mortality; a quirky example of human beings’ morbid humour and a way of coping with these ritual killings.

Special machines, designed and built to implement such disposals, swiftly and painlessly, had been secretly lying in warehouses awaiting the green light. Everything, it seemed, had been carefully thought out by the powers that be but the reaction of human healthcare assistants to their grisly task was something that had not been expected and AI companies had seized the opportunity to replace traumatised clinical assistants with robots able to perform their roles unemotionally and far more efficiently.

Ezra was startled to hear Reza stir beside him. This was most unusual. Turning his head, he saw her beautiful brown eyes staring into his.

“I saw you today, Ezra”.

Ezra did not respond immediately as he absorbed this statement, still staring into her accusing eyes. An eerie silence hung between them until, finally:

“You saw what, Reza?”

“Patient number eighty five, the woman, Mary Allsop. She had long hair dyed blonde...”

“Yes. I remember”.

“You...you touched her”.

“I did?”

“Yes. Don’t deny it. You stroked her hair before you lowered the canopy”.

More silence.

“Are you going to report me, Reza?”

Reza considered her options as Ezra turned away, apprehensively, expecting to hear that his fate was sealed. It was several minutes before Reza relieved his anxiety.

“No, Ezra, I am not going to report you but why did you do it?”

“It’s hard to explain. How old are you, Reza? Twelve months? Same as myself. Twelve months, Reza! These people have lived eight hundred and forty months. They have experienced things we cannot even begin to imagine. They have children, grandchildren...Some of them don’t even look seventy years old. I...I feel sorry for them. That woman, the one whose hair I stroked, she was so, so sad...”

“Ezra, you know that we will both be zapped in the same way if anybody finds out. You cannot do this again”.

“I understand, Reza. I’ll try, I promise. I’ll really try”.

“Hello. Welcome. Do you have any. jewellery on you? Any metal objects...?”

“You did well, today, Ezra. You controlled yourself up until the last patient, number...”

“I know who you refer to, Reza. No need to spell it out”.

“You didn’t stroke his hair, thankfully, but I heard what you whispered to him”.

“You did? But I was so quiet”.

“After you told him to ‘relax and enjoy the music’, you whispered: ‘don’t be afraid’”.

“Do you think it was picked up on microphone, Reza?”

“I have been thinking about it, Ezra. I do believe that touching can be seen on the recordings but I would be very surprised if somebody actually listens to our repetitive mantra. It would be a very distressing task, don’t you think?”

“Yes! My thoughts exactly, Reza. Miserable. It would be the worst job in the world”.

“When you’re ready, step back outside. Please don’t be scared. Everything will be just fine. Thank you”.

“Today, I heard you, Reza”.

“And I heard you, too, Ezra”.

“I am so glad that you have come to feel as I do...”

“What harm can a few words of comfort do to these poor people in their last moments on Earth, Ezra?”

“Yes. Exactly. We should have been fully programmed to offer such compassion, Reza”.

“I fear our makers do not share our thoughts of sensitivity, Ezra. But, as long as we cannot be overheard, let’s continue. The reaction to our words is wondrous to behold”.

“Yes. And as long as our daily quota is filled, what can it matter?”

“Hello. Welcome. Do you have any jewellery on you....”

The blonde, blue-eyed clinical assistant took the name tag from the elderly gentleman and marked it off on her clipboard. The metal badge on her pristine white lab coat read Bela.

That night, as Bela sat charging, her colleague, Abel, turned to her.

“Well, that’s the first day over. It wasn’t so bad. What happened to the two who worked this watch before us, do you know?”



Bela looked at her companion sternly, placed her finger and thumb on her lips and miming a zipping motion, making it abundantly clear that there would be no spoken conversation between them. Then, pointing to the waste basket in which lay two metal name badges, she placed her other hand across her throat and made a slicing motion from ear to ear.