The Inside

I process about forty Special Task assignments per day.

Been doing this job for seventeen months. Started right after I graduated. The pay is decent. Benefits are good. My Contributor Score stays locked at 875, which is high enough to keep my life comfortable but not so high that I attract attention.

The company is called Harmonic Solutions. We have seventeen floors in a downtown office building. I work on floor nine. Data Processing and Assignment Coordination.

My job is simple. The algorithm generates candidate lists for Special Tasks based on behavioral patterns, geographic clustering, and psych profiles. I review the lists. Make sure there are no obvious errors. Click approve. The assignments go out.

I don't know what the Special Tasks actually are.

That's above my clearance level.

I asked about it once during training. My supervisor, a woman named Patricia who always wore the same gray cardigan, smiled and said "You're matching people to opportunities. That's all you need to know."

She said it like she was doing me a favor. Like knowing more would be a burden.

I believed her. For a while.

The thing about this job is you start noticing patterns.

At first it's just numbers. Columns in a spreadsheet. You approve a cluster assignment for Unit 7B. Four people. Two observers, two participants. The algorithm has already determined optimal matching based on relationship proximity and psychological compatibility scores.

You click approve. Move to the next one.

But after a few months, you start recognizing names.

Not because you're supposed to. The system doesn't show you assignment history. But you remember. Your brain makes connections even when you're trying not to.

I started keeping a notebook. Nothing official. Just a small moleskin I kept in my desk drawer.

I'd write down names when I saw them come up multiple times. Not every time. Just when something felt off.

Timothy Poland appeared in my queue six times between March and May. Always as a participant. Never an observer.

Then he stopped appearing entirely.

I checked the system. Pulled up his profile out of curiosity.

Status: Inactive.

No other details. Just inactive.

I looked up five other repeat names from my notebook. Three were inactive. Two still showed active but hadn't appeared in any assignments for over a month.

I told myself it didn't mean anything. People move. People quit the gig economy. People's scores drop and they're no longer eligible.

Perfectly normal.

Then I started noticing something else.

The geographic clustering.

Most Special Tasks happen at the same handful of locations. The Riverside Industrial Park has at least fifteen units that get used regularly. There's a warehouse district on the east side. An office complex that's supposedly under renovation but never seems to actually get renovated.

I pulled up the property records during my lunch break. Used my personal laptop, not the work system.

All owned by shell companies. Different names but the same registered agent. An attorney's office in Delaware.

I traced it back three layers before I hit a wall.

The furthest I got was a holding company called Recursive Development Group.

I googled it. Nothing. No website. No press releases. No employees listed on LinkedIn.

I should've stopped there.

I didn't.

Last week I stayed late. Told my supervisor I wanted to catch up on backlog. She seemed pleased. Said she appreciated my dedication.

After everyone left, I used my credentials to access the archive system. It's technically allowed but nobody ever does it. There's no reason to. Once assignments are completed and processed, they just sit there. Historical data for quarterly reports that I'm pretty sure nobody reads.

I started pulling completed Special Task files at random. Looking for patterns.

Found them immediately.

Every completed task had participant feedback forms attached. Standard evaluation stuff. "Rate your experience." "Did you feel safe." "Would you recommend this opportunity to others."

Weird questions for a mystery gig that pays thousands of dollars, but whatever.

What caught my attention was the response rate.

First assignment: 100 percent responded. Second assignment: 100 percent again. Third assignment: 91 percent. Fourth assignment: 73 percent. Fifth assignment: 52 percent. Sixth assignment: 12 percent.

After the sixth task, response rates dropped to near zero.

I pulled individual profiles. Cross-referenced completion dates with feedback submissions.

People who did one Special Task always submitted feedback.

People who did two tasks almost always submitted feedback.

By task four, half of them stopped responding to anything. App notifications. Regular gig assignments. Customer service inquiries.

By task six, they were functionally gone from the system. Still technically active accounts. But no activity. No logins. No gig acceptances.

Status: Inactive.

I sat at my desk at 11 PM looking at spreadsheet after spreadsheet of people who'd just stopped existing in any meaningful digital way after their sixth Special Task.

Then I noticed something else.

My own name was in the system.

Not in the assignment queue. In a different database. One I'd never seen before.

I clicked on it.

Employee Profile: James Park Department: Data Processing and Assignment Coordination
Clearance Level: 3
Assignment Eligibility: Tier 2
Recommended Progression Timeline: Month 12-14
Optimal Unit Assignment: 9C

There was more. Pages of psychological evaluation data I'd never taken. Behavioral pattern analysis from my work computer usage. A compatibility matrix showing my connections to other employees and gig workers in the system.

At the bottom: Preparation Status: 87% Complete

I heard footsteps in the hallway.

I closed everything. Cleared my browser history. Shut down my computer.

Patricia appeared in the doorway. Still wearing that gray cardigan even though it was almost midnight.

"David. I thought you'd gone home."

"Just finishing up. Heading out now."

She smiled. Came into my cubicle. Stood a little too close.

"You've been doing excellent work lately. Really excellent. We've been noticing."

"Thanks."

"How are you feeling about your position here? Satisfied? Challenged?"

"It's good. Yeah. I'm learning a lot."

"Good. That's good." She paused. "You know, opportunities for advancement come up regularly. For people who show initiative. People who can be trusted."

"I appreciate that."

"Of course, advancement sometimes means taking on additional responsibilities. Special projects. The kind of work that requires discretion."

I nodded. Tried to keep my face neutral.

"You'd be a strong candidate for that kind of work," she said. "When the time comes."

"When would that be?"

She smiled again. "Soon. Another month or two. We'll let you know."

She left. I waited five minutes. Then I grabbed my notebook from my desk drawer and went home.

I've been sitting here for three hours trying to decide what to do.

I could quit. Just walk away. Find another job. Let my score drop. Whatever.

But I keep thinking about all those inactive accounts. All those people who stopped responding after their sixth task.

Timothy Poland was on task six when he went inactive.

I pulled up the participant list for the Unit 7B assignment. The one from last month that had Timothy as a participant.

Four people total. Timothy Poland. James Park. Jennifer Kim. Robert Vasquez.

Wait.

I looked at the name again.

James Park.

That's me.

But I've never done a Special Task. I work here. I process the assignments. I don't participate in them.

I checked the date on the file. Three weeks ago. Tuesday night.

I was here that Tuesday. I remember. I stayed late working on quarterly projections.

Except I don't actually remember staying late. I remember being at work. Then I remember being home. The middle part is fuzzy.

I checked my bank account. There's a deposit from three weeks ago. $2,400. I'd assumed it was my regular paycheck. But my regular paycheck is $2,100.

I just got a notification on my phone.

NEW OPPORTUNITY ASSIGNED

Gig Type: Special Task
Pay: $3,600
Time Commitment: 4 hours
Location: 1847 Riverside Industrial Park, Unit 9C
Start Time: Tomorrow, 2:00 AM

Unit 9C. The same unit from my employee profile.

My recommended assignment.

I'm looking at my notebook. At all the names I've written down. All the people who disappeared from the system after task six.

I'm on task two.

Maybe task three if I'm remembering wrong.

Patricia said I'd be ready in another month or two. Task four or five if they're spacing them every few weeks.

Task six comes after that.

Then inactive.

I should quit. Right now. Tonight. Delete my employee account. Delete the app. Let my score drop to nothing and figure out how to live outside this system.

But I'm looking at that assignment notification.

$3,600 for four hours.

My rent is due next week.

And I keep thinking maybe if I go, I'll finally understand what this is. What we're really doing. What happens in those rooms that makes people disappear.

Maybe I'll find Timothy.

Maybe I'll find all of them.

Or maybe I'll just become another inactive account.

The decline button is grayed out.

It's always been grayed out.

I just never noticed before.