Soft Dystopias #5: The Gentle Option

Tom’s phone buzzed. He was already scrolling through YouTube shorts. A bank deposit notification popped up: “Milton Parilla’s Gentle Option Compensation Package has been processed.” His heart pulsed. He thought it was scheduled for next week. He had just coached his grandpa yesterday on how to make the best of his last few days. The digital scrapbook they were planning hadn’t even been started. There was a video link in the email. He clicked.

It was short. Milton Parilla was 68. He hadn’t made it to 72.5, the new retirement age. His back had finally given out. Since humanoid robots took over most knowledge work, the remaining jobs were all complex manual labor. If your body didn’t work, you didn’t work. If you didn’t work, the state agency didn’t want you. And if the state agency didn’t want you, the Gentle Option Compensation Package did.

The screen showed an old man with a soft beer belly sunk into his recliner. Cheetos dust clung to his chin, his fingers, and the fur of the cat in his lap. In his arms rested his beautiful third wife. If you looked closely, the artificial skin gave her away. It lacked the oil and micro-movements of a human’s. The pair held hands. Milton shifted forward, sighed, and glanced at his palm. A prick of blood. “I guess this is it,” he muttered. “You could’ve told me it was going to be today.” He convulsed in his chair. It wasn’t painful, but it was fast. The cat hissed and bolted. Scratch marks bloomed across Milton’s forearms.

It was over in ten seconds. Tom watched the whole thing. That was a tough one. Almost as bad as his dad’s, he thought. But 27 YouTube shorts was enough to bring him back to baseline. With his dad, he remembered how hard he mourned. It was a whole afternoon of YouTube.

He took a swig of his favorite beer. He kept it on tap for occasions like this one. He checked his bank statements. There was another zero. They called the deposits Loyalty Rewards.

“What’s wrong?” asked Tom’s fourth wife, curling into his side. Her skin was perfect.

He shrugged. “Great news. We’re getting a new cat.”