Thompson entered the office, walked to the chair that had been placed before the Tribunal. His number had been called so here he was to vet his candidacy.
“Hello.”
His voice sounded too loud.
Of the three, only the blonde Committee Member on the left looked up from Thompson’s file, acknowledging him with a prim smile.
“Hello, please, have a seat.”
On the walls to either side and on the ceiling above him, the round black eyes of the Mainframe watched and scanned.
He sat.
Moments of uncomfortable silence followed. Finally the male Committee Member sitting in the center folded his hands on the table and began the questioning.
“Did you have any trouble finding us?”
“No, not really. There was a wait for the elevator.”
“Yes, well. That's to be expected.”
The streets were one thing, Thompson was used to them. The lobby of the building he thought might have been more open, but the milling masses had been there too. It had taken him almost fifteen minutes to fight through to the elevator.
The female Committee Member on the right picked up the interview.
“So, tell us. Why should we choose you for transference?”
He was confused.
“Was there something wrong with my application?”
“No, no. We would just like for you to tell us why we should choose you over the others.”
“Oh. My understanding was that the application –”
“As clearly stated on the waiver you signed, application does not guarantee acceptance.”
Fingers tapped virtual keyboards and boxes were checked.
Confusion morphed into dread.
“Well, uh… I guess I, I should be chosen because I’m skilled.”
“There are others whose skill ratings are higher. What makes you different, more appealing than they are?”
He could feel his apprehension growing, the dread turning into fear. Other boxes were checked, keys tapped. Palms sweating, lips trembling, he plowed on.
“I would work hard, do my best. Add to the whole.”
The Committee members remained blank faced.
Despite the fear, the muscles in his jaw bunched with anger.
“I know my test levels are acceptable. I know that’s what the Mainframe wants. Of all the billions out there seeking trans, its me you need in there.”
There was a series of beeps from the hidden speakers and the black eyes swiveled, to the Tribunal and then back to him. The Mainframe’s tones emanated throughout the room.
Vitals are nominal, brain function tolerable. Emotional index is dominant and unstable, FACS indicates high risk of irrational and impulsive action above lucid cognition. Probability of violent, life-ending incident if the subject were to be introduced into the situation is 83.769%.”
He could feel the anger surging now.
“So what does that mean? I’m done? You gonna just throw me back?”
He knew the security measures would eliminate him before he got all the way out of the chair, but the looks on their faces would be worth it.
The Mainframe’s cold voice clacked through the speakers.
“Citizen Thompson, application approved.”
The blonde Committee member smiled.
“Your violence and unpredictability is needed to maintain the illusion of reality in the environment. Death is common in the real, but very rare in VR. All previous iterations of the construct failed due to the lack of danger or harm. This results in laziness and reduced productivity. You were not being selected to add, but to subtract. Congratulations. Your transference date is set for 0300 hours.”
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