Career Progression

Claire Rider, that was what the card said.  When she handed it over to the man at the desk he hesitated, clearly unsure what to do with it.  But she felt a tiny thrill that he at least took the time to read it.  Getting the box of cards printed had been proof that she was going places, that she would put her diploma to use and would do her Community College proud.  That had been eight weeks ago, when she'd walked out of the college for the last time in her new skirt suit clutching her diploma and with a head full of plans.

Eight weeks are a long time in a young woman's life, the length of time it take to take on the world and make her mark.  As her teachers would put it, a time to realise her potential.

Of course she'd known there would be difficulties.  They'd told her that there was a lot of competition for jobs but she'd been confident, getting over 98% in all of her exams.  She was bright and had the qualifications to prove it.  She'd been at the top of most of her classes, graduating with distinction she basked in the adoration of the younger students who looked up to her as an example of how to prosper.  From being an ordinary student she had soon taken on the responsibilities of Hall Monitor and by the time she'd graduated she was head girl.  She'd thrived in the world of education and had been eager to prove that she had what it took to prosper in the world outside the college gates.

Graduating at the head of her class had been her moment of triumph, her just reward after years of hard studying.  Then things had started to go less well.  She'd been hoping to get a work with the Revenue because she had a head for figures.  She'd taken her time to research the position, knew exactly who would be making the decisions and even chosen her suit because it looked just like those worn by Revenue workers.  But even wearing the same inoffensive grey as those already employed hadn't been enough.  The woman in reception had turned her away without even giving her an application form.  Seems that they had a limit of 1000 applicants for any one job and they'd already had too many.  They suggested that she could try again next month when more vacancies would come up.

Of course vacancies were always coming up by the hundreds each month in a city this size as the lottery took it's percentage of workers, but for every one taken there were ever more women entering the workforce.  There was even talk about increasing the take, but no one wanted that.  Clare and everyone else she spoke to just wanted the government to do something about the ever increasing numbers of girls entering the system.  None of her adult friends wanted the take increased and being the majority of the electorate their views mattered.  So each year there numbers of females looking for work increased.

For the first month after graduating it hadn't been too bad.  She'd continued living in the bunk house she'd spent her life in and as each day went by there was more room as her 'sisters' moved out.  Some were lucky and found work.  Others moved off to Collectives where they shared cramped quarters with other girls and tried to scrape an existence.  Some just disappeared.  No one talked about those girls, unsure whether they'd been taken by rogue hunters or had just given up and submitted to conversion voluntarily.  But Claire wasn't one of them.  She kept trying, determined to make a future for herself.

So she'd done the rounds, applying for every office job she could find.  She didn't care whether she was over qualified to work in a call centre, or whether her accountancy skills would be wasted doing the books for some tiny grocery store.  She'd kept herself flexible, willing to take any work she could find and each evening she returned home exhausted by her efforts.  But she hadn't found anything but rejection.

Then she'd had to move out to make way for another crop of girls who needed the bunk room.  There had been the usual panic as she searched desperately for someone who could put her up on a couch or a floor.  It hadn't been all bad as some of her 'sisters' had found places, but she could never stay more than a couple of days before she needed to move on.  All the time she kept looking.

Soon her new suite stayed in her suitcase as she looked for work, replaced by more casual wear or overalls.  Some of the girls had taken the plunge, trying to survive doing 'favours' on the street, but that hadn't been for Claire.  Besides it was hard to get paid for what so many were willing to give away for free and they were lucky to get a warm meal for their efforts.  Not that Claire hadn't skirted the trade but she convinced herself that she was dating, even it it meant being bought a meal by someone she wasn't too sure about she at least got to spend the night in a bed, even if she didn't get much sleep.  But she didn't kid herself.  Her brain was her most developed asset and no one was willing to pay for that.

She did get some work, working on landfill recovery project looking for anything of value.  That job had only lasted a few days before her job was taken by someone stronger who could do the work better, and more importantly convinced Claire that keeping the job would be very unhealthy.  But she'd had use of showers at the end of each shift and enough money to get a mattress in one of the better doss houses.

But the comfort of the doss house had been weeks ago.  She'd since been spending most of her time sleeping rough, hoping not to be noticed by the hunters in the night.  Each morning she awoke, grateful for another day and tried not to think too much about the remains of those less fortunate that were being picked over by the crows that enjoyed their morning feasts.

But last night she'd found shelter near her Alma mater, the old Community College.  It was the site of another by monthly graduation marching proudly out the gates that convinced her where her future lay.  She'd seen the hope in the eyes of those girls, and the way they didn't even notice her as the walked past her.  She supposed she'd acted in much the same way to the street people when she'd been in their position.  The difference now was that those peppier young graduates would be going for the same jobs that she'd been hoping for. 

With that realisation a weight seemed to fall off her shoulders.  She still had a couple of bucks saved from a day cleaning gutters so spent it in a wash house, making sure she looked her best.  She'd put on her precious suit for the first time in over a week, taking care to brush out the creases, and leaving the rest of her possessions behind she stepped out once more into the world.  To anyone who wasn't too observant she would look just as smart as those new graduates, but one look into her eyes would have told a very different story.  Gone was the hope that she'd had when she had just graduated.  Gone even was the anger and desperation that had carried her through her fruitless search for work and shelter.  All that she had left was the comfort of resignation.  She had no more fight left in her.

She'd walked past this shop every day of her life, either going to college or on earlier trips with her 'sisters'.  In fact it was only five minuets walk from the dorms that she'd grown up in.  It was it's location that had made her choose it as it almost seemed to complete the circle.  Still the man who accepted her business card didn't recognise her although she must have spent hours peering through the shop window at the produce within.  But although he clearly didn't know what to do with her card, he knew perfectly well what she was there for.

This time of the monthly cycle was fairly quiet so there were no other girls waiting.  The young man showed her through to the back and took her jacket from her.  As always there were forms to be done.  Her retina was scanned and copies of her fingerprints were taken.  Satisfied that she was who she said she was she was asked to undress.  Unlike the industrial conversion plants that most lottery winners ended up in she'd chosen this place because it was a small family run affair.  It had a reputation of keeping things dignified and so she had some privacy as she neatly folded her suit and put it with her barely worn shoes in the goodwill bag.  She hoped that it would find a luckier owned who would actually get one of those jobs she'd only dreamed of.  She put her bra on top of the pile and stepped out of the cubicle still wearing her panties.

The young man made no comment about them, although he did ask her whether she wanted any other service.  Well she knew what he was offering, but it seemed pointless given that it could all soon be over.  In fact he seemed relieved that she hadn't wanted his attentions which only confirmed her belief that she just wasn't up to perfect physical standards that he probably expected from his partners. 

Her next and final act was to climb onto the converter.  It wasn't the most comfortable machine to lay on as it only supported her shoulders and hips, but once she put her head through the neck piece it was over.  With a reassuring bleep the machine interrogated the microchip embedded in her skull.  This final confirmation was taken and before she had time to worry blades moved into place separating her head and limbs from her torso.  The machine continued working even as Claire's conciousness faded, recycling Clare's components for the benefit of her community.