Future Endeavors

This was by far the worst day of Carl's life. At least that's what he thought to himself as he sat in the office of James Godfrey, the director of Human Resources at Perpetua Systems, the place that Carl had worked for the last 15 years, until this very moment.

"It's not that you aren't a great employee, Carl. You are. You've been invaluable to this organization." James paused, glancing at his monitor to make sure the information in his head was correct before proceeding. "The time you spent in digital record keeping has been absolutely terrific, but unfortunately, we're shutting the department down, and you're just no longer needed."

Tears began to well up behind Carl's eyes, but he couldn't let them show. He was stronger than this. He just wasn't sure where he could go after this. He was hired right out of college to work here, and it was the only real job he'd ever had. He didn't even remember how to look for work. Did he even have a suit that fit anymore? All of these would be questions that Carl would need to ruminate on during the drive home. "Isn't there something else you can use me for? Some other team that you could put me on?"

James was unmoved. "Carl, for one, this decision comes from above my pay grade. It's really not my choice or my fault that we're sitting here today. For all I know, I might be getting called into my boss's office later. But right now, we're here to talk about you." James pushed a file folder across his desk towards Carl. "This here is your exit paperwork. It's got a few things you need to fill out before we can issue your severance check. A questionnaire, some information about COBRA, etc. Should only take you about 30 minutes to go through. If I'm not here when you're done, you can slip it into the mail slot on my door, and I'll take care of it later." James glanced down at his watch and cracked a smile. "That's about all I have on my end. Do you have any other questions for me? At least ones that I can actually answer?"

Carl felt dead inside. He had a million things running in and out of his brain, but questions for this man he'd just met were few and far between. He couldn't even muster a single one into existence, so he just sat there, looking dumbfounded, while shaking his head in the negative.

"Good then..." James stood up behind his desk and extended his right hand to Carl. "If we're done here, I've got a lunch appointment to get to before I sit down with a few others this afternoon. Thank you sincerely for your time with Perpetua Systems, and we wish you well in your future endeavors!"

Carl hesitantly reached out and shook James' hand. "Thanks?"

James smiled, while Carl turned away and started making his way out of the plush office.

Suddenly, the world shook. Not like an earthquake, but almost like a vibration coming through the floor itself. Carl turned back towards James, and they both looked into each other's eyes, wondering what the heck was going on.

"People of Simulation Six Three Six Dash Three One Four Zee," said a booming voice. James and Carl weren't sure where the voice was coming from, but they could both hear it. It wasn't like thunder or the bass from a speaker. There was no resonance. They couldn't feel it, but it sounded as if there was a 1,000-foot speaker right in the building's parking lot. "Thank you for your service in the creation and maintenance of this simulation for the last several billion years. Unfortunately, you've completed the task that you were created for, and have been deemed no longer necessary by the great compute engine, and have been targeted for shutdown. In 5 minutes, your time, you and everything you know will cease to exist. Thank you again."

The voice stopped talking. James fell to the ground into a fetal position. "What the fuck?! This has got to be some sort of joke or something." Carl, on the other hand, actually began to smile. Maybe his life was over, but apparently he wasn't alone, and there was no longer a need for him to start pondering his future. There was no future.

The voice boomed once again. "Look, it's not that you aren't a great simulation. You are. You've been invaluable to this organization. The content you generated for us has been shared many times across all forms of social media, but we're moving to a new model, and you can't be upgraded."

Carl could hear shouting in the hallways outside the office door as the world began to panic. He wasn't sure why folks were panicking. It was obvious what was happening, and there was little any of them could do other than reach out to their loved ones.

The voice continued, as if answering questions from an unseen individual, "This decision comes from above my pay grade. It's really not my choice or my fault that we're sitting here today. For all I know, this same thing could happen to my universe sometime today; who knows for sure how this works."

Carl's tears dried up, and he began to laugh as he watched James cry out loud behind his desk. This felt... fitting.

"One last thing - before you blink out, you'll be presented with a questionnaire about your time here, and how you feel about your universe overall. Be sure to fill it out so we'll know how to improve things for future universes. Thank you, sincerely, for your content, and we wish you..." The voice paused. "Oh yeah... there's no future. Just... thanks then!"

... and the universe went dark.