(Photo by Felix Mittermeier)

“Hello, and welcome to Human Resources,” the friendly, smiling face behind the glass window said. Thin wires crisscrossed through the glass, reinforcing it against being smashed. It didn’t exactly inspire confidence and was one of the many reasons why no one enjoyed going to Human Resources, even though they fought tooth and nail sometimes to be the ones selected to go. “Take a seat and if you are selected you will be sorted in a timely fashion. If you are not selected by end of day then you have not been selected and will need to reapply to be sorted at a later date.”

The chairs were quite functional, in that they were just uncomfortable enough that they would keep most people from being able to fall asleep on them while not being so uncomfortable that they made waiting unbearable. There were dozens of chairs, all in neat rows in the middle of the large room, bolted to the floor so they couldn’t be moved around. About half of them were occupied. Some people sat together, others tried to have at least one empty chair between them and the next person over.

Sammy had all of her documentation all ready to go, as instructed. She didn’t want to have to wait but there was no arguing with the smiling face behind the glass. It was just a projection anyway. No one actually worked here. What a nightmare that would be, working in a place like this. Granted, most people these days were lucky if they had work at all. With luck, Sammy would leave here with a job. Then she’d be able to afford more than just the universal housing and meal plans.

She took a seat next to an older woman and began sorting through her documentation once more, triple checking to make sure she had everything in order.

“First time?” the woman next to Sammy asked.

“Uh huh,” she replied.

“Chances are low they’ll pick you. Most don’t get sorted until their third or fourth time through here.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sammy said, the knot in her stomach tightening regardless. “My scores are all really good and my aptitude for a lot of the high demand jobs is rated really high. How about you?”

“I’m just here for reassignment,” she said with a dismissive wave.

“What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Now that Sammy was giving the woman more than just a passing glance, she noted how she was better dressed than most of the other people here. Her graying hair even looked like it had been styled professionally.

“I give hugs,” the woman said.

Sammy felt her expression slip a little. That was a job? The woman noticed and gave her a wry smile.

“What, did you think there was only work for creators and thinkers? There’s emotional work to be done too. Stuff their computers and robots still can’t match us at doing. You ever get a hug from a robot?”

Sammy had, in fact.

“I grew up in a Community Raising group,” she said, “all we had there were robots and they gave us hugs us all the time.”

“I forget how long ago those stupid things got started,” the woman grunted with a frown. “Seems like only a few years ago they came up with that idea. Free up the parents time so they can work more. Only now there’s no work for them and you kids are grown up with nothing but robots instead of moms or dads.”

“It wasn’t bad growing up there,” Sammy said. “I wouldn’t say it was perfect, but we turned out alright.”

“Were they good at hugging?” the woman asked after a moment.

“What, the robots?”

“Yes, were they any good at it?”

Sammy thought about that for a while. Long enough that it was beginning to feel awkward.

“Well?”

“I don’t know,” Sammy finally said. “A hug’s a hug. Not really that much difference from one to the next.”

The older woman leaned back in her chair, her expression a mix of triumph and concern.

“Bad huggers,” she said and crossed her arms, and then added before Sammy could speak up, “If they’d been any good at it you wouldn’t say a hug’s a hug. A real, good hug conveys love, or care, or support, or any number of other things. To hear you talk I think all they ever did for you and those other poor kids was put their arms around you.”

“Well, that’s what a hug is,” Sammy replied.

The woman eyed Sammy narrowly. At last, she held out her hand.

“Shake my hand,” she said.

Sammy looked around as if expecting to find the other people in the waiting room listening in on their conversation but everyone seemed content to keep to themselves. If they were paying attention to them, they weren’t showing it.

“Come on,” the woman prodded.

“Fine,” Sammy sighed and took the woman’s hand.

It was like holding a limp fish. The other woman hardly even bent her fingers to grasp Sammy’s hand. There was nothing else to it, and after a few uncomfortable seconds the woman retracted her hand.

“I hope your hugging is better than your handshake,” Sammy muttered, almost wanting to wipe her hand off on her pants as though it was dirty by association.

“That’s a pretty strong reaction from one handshake. Let’s try again.”

She held out her hand a second time. Reluctantly, Sammy took it. This time, the woman’s grip was firm. Too firm. Sammy felt the small bones in her hand being crushed together and this time she pulled her hand back right away.

“Geeze, you trying to break my hand?”

“Don’t be silly, your hand’s fine.”

Sammy massaged her hand to emphasize how much she disagreed with the woman.

“Hugs are like handshakes,” the woman said with a nod. “Each one is different and can convey a multitude of meanings.”

“And they seriously pay you to hug them?”

“They do.”

“Is that all they pay you to do?” Sammy asked as a worrisome thought crossed her mind.

“I also give them comforting words and, sometimes, advice,” she said coolly. “Nothing else.”

“Why would anyone need that? It just sounds silly.”

“I usually work with people dealing with loss,” the woman said. “These days, there’s a lot of people who don’t have many close friends or family to begin with, so when they lose someone, it can be especially difficult for them. Or, sometimes a company will hire me to come in and just spend a few hours with their people, giving hugs, listening to them if they have concerns. If boosts morale and increases productivity, especially in high stress work environments. My last assignment was working with astronauts who’d been away for several years. They were struggling to readjust to Earth.”

That didn’t sound so bad, as far as jobs went. Though, listening to people talk about their struggles didn’t sound like something she could do all day. Sammy doubted it paid the best either, but it was clearly enough to have a comfortable living if the woman’s appearance was anything to judge by. Sammy, however, wanted one of the big jobs, the kind that not only got you out of the universal housing but into the parts of town where they grew trees and things.

Slowly, the smiling face behind the reinforced glass called people up. They were far enough away that those waiting couldn’t hear what they said. Most interviews lasted a few minutes. Some were sorted into jobs while most were turned away. Everyone could reapply, of course, but meant going back to wherever it was they came from, taking all the tests over again and needing to be selected, again, to come to Human Resources where they may or may not be sorted into a job.

Sammy knew a few others who had made it to Human Resources once or twice, but she didn’t know anyone who’d been sorted.

“What’s it like?” Sammy found herself asking the woman after a couple hours of waiting.

“What’s what like? Hugging?”

“No, what’s it like having a job? Not having to live in the universal housing, you know?”

The woman nodded slowly and distinctly not smiling.

“You don’t think I live in the universal housing?”

“Why would you? You have a job –

“I’m quite happy with where I live,” she said. “I never felt the need for anything more, and that allows me the put my income into other things I do find worthwhile.”

“Well first thing I’m doing when I get sorted is getting into a better apartment. One with a window, or maybe its own bathroom. Some day I’d like a place where I can see some trees.”

“That’s quite the ambition,” the woman replied. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, sighing before going on. “I had a tree in my backyard, growing up,” she said softly. “I never climbed it, but it was nice to look at.”

“Your family could afford a yard with a tree?” Sammy gasped. That amount of luxury was beyond even her wildest imaginings.

“It wasn’t so uncommon back then,” the woman said, still not opening her eyes. “This was back before universal housing and sorting and all of that. Back before jobs were so scarce.”

Sammy looked the woman over once more. She didn’t look any older than her mid forties, but universal housing had been in place for…Sammy wasn’t sure how many decades but certainly more than forty years.

“I remember when the first wave of jobs went away,” the woman went on as if in a dream. “It was cheaper to have the AI’s do those things. They were already better and faster than most people anyway. By the time it was a global problem, the people at the top making all the money were too invested to give it all up. So they made the compromise of universal housing and meals, supplemented heavily by whatever governments would agree to it. In the end they all signed the deal. Then even those at the top started having their jobs go away as AI took over most management positions. So now we’re mostly in universal housing, eating pre-made meals, and being raised by robots because everyone gets the same size apartment regardless of family size and a hundred and fifty square feet is not enough space for two or three people when one of them is a crying baby. No wonder they didn’t want to come back.”

“What? Who didn’t want to come back?”

Sammy was following some of what the other woman was saying, remembering learning about some of those events in her schooling, but most of it was taught as though it were from long ago and not as recent history at all.

“The astronauts I mentioned earlier,” the woman said. “They were the last to return from the moon base. We can’t resupply them anymore so it was either stay up there and die or come back to Earth. Not all of them chose to return and among those who did, some are regretting their decision.”

“Astronaut,” Sammy said, “you mentioned that before. What are they?”

The woman finally opened her eyes and gave Sammy a pitying look.

“They were people who explored outer space,” she said. “We sent them out there on rockets, and they built a city on the moon. They were still reliant on us for certain things, though, so…

She trailed off, leaving Sammy utterly confused.

“You think there were people living on the moon?”

“There still are,” the woman said, “for now.”

Sammy caught herself looking upward, even though they were inside and it was the middle of the day.

“No wonder you’re just a hugger,” Sammy muttered.

The woman pursed her lips and nodded a few times to herself.

“Alright,” she said loudly, surprising Sammy and nearly making her jump in her seat. “We’re done, everyone, thank you.”

She stood up along with everyone else in Human Resources. The woman stayed where she was but everyone else began making their way to the exits. The smiling face behind the glass reached up and pulled down the metal grate, further blocking off the space.

“Wait, what?” Sammy looked around in utter confusion. “What do you…

“Sammy,” the woman spoke clearly and drew Sammy’s attention, “you will not be sorted today. Like so many others you have exceptional talent in all the wrong areas. We need people with compassion. People who will be concerned for more than just themselves and the pursuit of wealth. You may get there someday but you aren’t there yet. So go back home, study up, and you may try again.”

“What do you mean, try again?” Sammy asked. “Is this how we’re sorted? Really? Some weird, secret interview? But now I know your secret.”

“You won’t when you leave here,” the woman said. “In fact, you don’t remember the last three times we’ve met either.”

“What?”

Sammy looked towards the exit. This woman was crazy, but then again, everyone else here had listened to her and, well, Sammy decided it was time to leave. She made a break for the exit and bounced hard off the doors.

Locked.

There was pain in her arm she’d tried to push the door open with as well as on the side of her face where she’d collided. Firm hands gripped her by the shoulders and hauled her back up. Before she could protest she felt the prick of a needle on her neck.

“What are you…?”

Everything was growing hazy as she tried to look around for the other woman but the shadows were growing deeper and everything was sounding farther and farther away.

She was drifting, weightless. Why did that remind her of something? What was it? Sammy tried to remember but everything was too fluid in her mind to grasp anything for more than a moment.

“Hello?”

Sammy heard the voice but there was no direction to it. She tried to reply but there was a disconnect between her thoughts and her voice.

“Excuse me?”

Again the disembodied voice spoke and this time Sammy fought harder to focus on it. Somewhere nearby there was a light on. Sammy only then became aware of the fact that her eyes were shut. What had she been looking at before? Hadn’t she been looking at something?

“You need to wake up now,” the voice said and finally Sammy could tell the source of it was right in front of her.

She found her eyes and began working them open. Why was it so hard to wake up? She wasn’t that tired, was she? Hadn’t she made sure to get a good night’s sleep before coming…where was she? She wasn’t at home, she was fairly certain of that. She was aware of the chair she was sitting on and it wasn’t her chair. This one was uncomfortable.

“Miss, are you alright?”

“Mmmffine,” Sammy managed.

“Can you stand up?”

A helpful hand took her by the arm and Sammy found herself rising. It surprised her that she was moving so easily all of a sudden, but then she noticed the other pair of hands also helping her up and she realized she wasn’t doing any of the actual work herself.

“Come on,” the voice said.

At last, Sammy got her eyes to open. She was standing in a large waiting room, being supported on either side by a pair of somewhat concerned looking people. They each wore matching uniforms and the emblem on their chest marked them as working for Human Resources.

“Oh no,” Sammy gasped, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep, please give me a chance.”

She didn’t even really remember arriving this morning but now it was clearly evening.

“You weren’t sorted today,” the smiling face on her right said. “It had nothing to do with you falling asleep. The decision was already made.”

That didn’t exactly make her feel any better.

“The transport is here for you.”

They helped Sammy out to the waiting bus. She scanned her I.D. and the bus added her address to its route.

“We hope to see you again,” the smiling face said as the bus doors closed.

Sammy sat down, feeling alone and disappointed. She had been so sure she would be sorted. Her scores were really good. She leaned her head against the window on the ride back home. She looked up and caught a glimpse of the moon between the towering spires of skyscrapers. For some reason, the sight of the moon made her sad.

An older woman walked over and must have noticed the look on Sammy’s face.

“I’m sorry, excuse me,” she said, leaning over, “but you look like you’ve had a rough day. Would you like a hug?”

Sammy had had hugs before, growing up. They were nothing special but she didn’t quite have it in her to turn the woman away for some reason.

“Sure,” she said.

The woman sat down beside Sammy and wrapped her up in her arms. Unlike the robot carers Sammy had grown up with, this woman held Sammy tightly, stroking Sammy’s hair and patting her on the back. Functionally it was very similar to how the robots had done it, and yet it was nothing like the robot’s hug.

“It’s okay to fell this way,” the woman whispered. “We all have our ups and downs. Right now things are tough, but they will get better. I promise.”

They broke apart and Sammy wished she could have stayed in that embrace forever. It was warm, and soft, and comforting in ways she’d never known before. They didn’t speak anymore but the woman didn’t leave the seat beside Sammy either. She just sat there, occasionally patting Sammy on the leg.

“This is my stop,” the woman said at the next stop. “Take care of yourself.”

“Thank you,” Sammy said and watched the woman leave.

It wasn’t until later than Sammy realized the woman had been dressed quite nicely for someone who lived in universal housing. Maybe she had a low level job or something. Maybe, Sammy thought, if she could find her again she could ask her about her job and how she’d gotten it. Then again, Sammy wasn’t after just any old job. She wanted one that would let her see the trees. She couldn’t let one little setback shake her from her goals.

“Try again next time,” she whispered to herself, and she would.

In the mean time, she still thought it would be nice to find out who that woman was. Maybe she could still give her some pointers. Or at the very least, it might be nice to get another hug from her.