Saturday Afternoon

The Department of Placement
For nearly a year, 23-year-old Maren Collins had been living in a loop—wake up, check job boards, send applications, wait for rejection. She tried everything: revising her résumé a dozen times, rewriting cover letters until the words went blurry, pleading with hiring managers, applying for positions far outside anything she studied.
Yet her inbox stayed depressingly empty.
Her friends teased her gently, “The economy sucks” but Maren felt something different. Something was off. It wasn’t just bad luck. It felt like she was caught in a net she didn’t know existed.
By the end of the year, she was exhausted. Broke. Losing confidence. And worst of all: losing hope.
A Strange Interview
One morning, after the 127th rejection email, Maren noticed an odd message at the bottom of her inbox. It wasn’t stamped with a company name. No email signature. Just:
“Mandatory appointment confirmed. Report at 10:00 AM—Room 14B, Federal Annex Building.”
Maren froze. Mandatory?
She hadn’t applied to anything federally. She hadn’t applied to anything that would justify this level of formality at all.
Her stomach twisted, but curiosity overpowered fear. Maybe it was a mistake. Or maybe finally an opportunity.
The Federal Annex was a concrete monolith behind the city courthouse. Maren had walked past it hundreds of times without ever noticing it was there. It had no signage, no windows on the lower floors, only a revolving door that swallowed her whole when she stepped inside.
Room 14B was in the basement.
Inside waited a single man in a gray suit. No name tag. No smile. Just a clipboard and eyes that felt like they could read thoughts.
“Sit, Miss Collins.” She sat.
He clicked his pen once. “We’ve reviewed your file.” “My… file?” she echoed.
“You’ve applied for 346 jobs in the last twelve months. Ten interviews. Zero offers.” He paused. “Not due to lack of qualifications. Not due to market conditions. You were on hold.”
“On hold?” Maren repeated. “What does that mean? Why would I be on hold?”
The man studied her as though deciding how much truth to share.
Finally, he said, “You are being considered for assignment.”
The Department No One Knows Exists
He slid a thin folder across the table.
Stamped on the front: DEPARTMENT OF PLACEMENT
Below it: Confidential—Tier 3 Access Only
Maren blinked. “What is this?”
“The Department of Placement is a federal office responsible for workforce allocation across the United States,” the man said. His tone not proud, not apologetic—simply factual. “We regulate who gets which jobs in order to maintain national stability.”
Maren stared. “That’s impossible. People choose their jobs.”
He smiled faintly. “Do they? Or do they think they do?”
The room felt smaller. The air was much cooler.
“We oversee employment distribution,” he continued. “Every job offer, every denied application, every promotion. We determine where each citizen can serve society most efficiently.”
“So, I’ve been unemployed for a year because… you decided it?” she whispered.
“You were pending evaluation.” “Evaluation for what?”
“For potential placement into government service. You display traits our department rarely sees—persistence, pattern recognition, emotional resilience, and an unfailing refusal to give up.” He tapped the folder. “You are suited for internal operations.”
Maren laughed, because the alternative was screaming. “Are you telling me the government chooses people’s jobs?”
“Yes.” “And no one knows?”
“Our department’s function would be compromised if made public.”
Maren swallowed hard. “So why are you telling me?”
“Because you’ve been selected,” he said. “And once selected… you must join.”
Assignment
He opened the folder. Inside was a badge.
Her name was already printed on it. Her photo–one she’d never taken.
“You’ll start Monday,” he said. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”
“You don’t need to. Your acceptance was predetermined.”
Maren pushed back from the table. “No. You can’t force me.”
The man stood slowly, calmly, blocking the exit with nothing but his presence.
“Miss Collins… we’ve spent years studying the workforce. We learned long ago that chaos emerges when people choose their own paths. Competition collapses. Critical industries fail. Society destabilizes.”
He lowered his voice.
“And people like you—smart enough to see the patterns—become dangerous when left unsupported.”
Maren’s breath hitched. She was shaking now, but she didn’t know if it was anger or fear.
“You will join the Department,” he said. “It is where you belong.”
She stared at the badge again. A silent realization washed over her: the world she thought she lived in didn’t exist. Every struggle, every failure, every missed opportunity this year… wasn’t coincidence.
It was design.
Revelation
They escorted her through steel doors, down a long corridor humming with fluorescent lights. Behind each window, people worked at enormous holographic boards—mapping job markets, moving names around like chess pieces, reviewing dossiers of citizens who would never know they were being evaluated.
On one screen, she saw her own name blinking.
STATUS: ASSIGNED
A woman in a navy blazer approached her.
“You’ll start in Data Analysis,” she said. “Eventually, you’ll learn placement protocols.”
Maren stared at the endless screens glowing in the dark. At the hundreds of employees calibrating the lives of millions.
“How long has this existed?” Maren asked.
“A century,” the woman said. “Longer, if you count the unofficial years.”
“Why me?” Maren asked softly.
“Because you didn’t give up,” the woman replied. “Most people accept what they’re given. You kept fighting.”
The woman handed her a tablet. “Welcome to the real workforce, Maren.”
A Choice That Isn’t One
As she stepped into her new office, Maren thought about the last year—the frustration, the hopelessness, the unanswered applications. It had all been part of something bigger, darker, meticulously planned.
And now they expected her to help run it.
To decide who gets what job. Who advances. Who stagnates. Who thrives. Who never gets a chance.
It was too much responsibility for any one person. Too much power for any one department.
She swallowed, heart pounding. Do I accept this? Or do I find a way to expose it?
Both options were dangerous. Both could change everything.
Her badge glinted under the lights.
The job she’d spent a year searching for had finally found her.
But it was nothing like she expected.
The Department of Placement – Part II
The Job She Never Asked For
Maren sat alone in her assigned cubicle—the smallest space she had ever been “given,” ironically by the very department that controlled everyone’s fate. The room was bright but sterile, filled with glowing holographic displays and endless rows of silent analysts.
Her badge felt heavy around her neck, as if the metal itself knew she didn’t belong here.
On her screen, a list of citizen profiles awaited her evaluation. Names, ages, aptitudes, histories, psychological summaries. All distilled down to one blinking question:
“Suitable for placement?”
Her stomach knotted. She couldn’t do it.
She couldn’t decide the course of someone else’s life when she hadn’t been allowed to control her own.
But at the same time… This place held answers. And access.
Maybe she should stay long enough to understand how it all worked—before she decided whether to expose them. Maybe she needed the inside perspective.
Her hands hovered over the interface, trembling.
“First day jitters?” a voice said behind her.
Maren jumped. A woman about her age leaned on the cubicle wall, curly hair bouncing slightly whenever she moved. Her eyes were bright, sharp, and mischievously, she had figured out the secrets of this place and wasn’t impressed by any of them.
“Uh, yeah. Something like that,” Maren said.
“I’m Risa,” the woman said, offering a hand. “Welcome to the Labyrinth.”
“The… Labyrinth?” Risa smirked. “Trust me. You’ll understand soon.”
Meeting the Others
At lunch break—if it could be called that; no one here seemed to relax—Risa led Maren to the cafeteria. The room was polished with chrome and dim lighting, full of department workers eating alone, eyes glued to their screens.
“This place looks like everyone’s serving a life sentence,” Maren muttered.
“You’re catching on quickly.” Risa motioned her over to a quiet table with three other people.
“This is the new one?” a tall guy asked without looking up. He had copper skin and thick glasses that were one scratch away from falling apart.
“Yep,” Risa said. “Everyone, meet Maren.” The guy nodded. “I’m Theo. Data acquisition.”
Next to him sat a short, muscular woman with short-cropped hair. She gave Maren a curt, observing nod.
“I’m Sergeant Celine Ward. Security detail. Not by choice.”
“And I’m Harry,” said a man with a permanent anxious expression who sat beside her. “Risk assessment division. Also… not by choice.”
Maren blinked. “You’re all… assigned?” They exchanged looks—heavy, resigned ones.
“We all got the same speech you did,” Theo said. “Congratulations. You’re part of the elite few the government trusts with the truth.” He rolled his eyes. “Lucky us.”
Celine leaned forward. “Before you ask: no, we can’t quit. And yes, they watch everything.”
Harry’s hands shook as he stirred his soup. “Everything.”
Maren swallowed. “So… why are you all still here?”
Risa’s smile vanished. For a moment, she looked tired—older than her years.
“Because staying alive is easier when you follow the rules,” she said. “But surviving isn’t the same as living.” Her words hung in the air.
The First Assignment
After lunch, Maren returned to her workstation. A file flashed on her screen—one marked in red.
HIGH PRIORITY PLACEMENT REQUEST
Subject: Liam S. Hartley
Age: 19
Aspiration: Mechanical Engineer
Recommended Placement: Waste Management Technician
Maren’s mouth went dry. He was barely an adult. He wanted to build things.
And they wanted to put him in a municipal job he’d never applied for, doing something he wasn’t suited for.
Her pulse hammered. This wasn’t workforce organization. It was life manipulation.
Her cursor hovered over the approval button.
“No pressure,” a voice murmured behind her.
The man from the interview—gray suit, expressionless—stood watching her.
Mr. Halden. Maren froze.
“Liam Hartley is needed in waste management,” he said calmly. “The system identified him as compliant and capable.”
“But that’s not what he wants,” Maren said.
“What he wants is irrelevant.” Halden fixed her with his empty stare. “What society needs comes first.”
Maren felt a spark of defiance flare inside her.
“So you just… decide?” she whispered. “No freedom? No choice?”
“This department exists because choice destabilizes society,” Halden replied. “You will understand that soon. Press the button, Miss Collins.”
Her hand hovered. “If I don’t?” she asked. Halden smiled thinly. “You will. Eventually.”
He walked away. But her hand still wouldn’t move.
Because in that moment, something clicked.
She wasn’t just deciding whether Liam Hartley became a waste tech.
She was deciding what kind of person she would be.
The First Act of Defiance
Maren closed the file. She didn’t approve it. She didn’t deny it.
Instead, she quietly re-routed the case to a category labeled “Under Review—Pending Secondary Evaluation,” a folder she found buried in the system’s architecture.
A folder Halden hadn’t mentioned.
A folder Risa had pointed out to her earlier with a wink and the words:
“Sometimes the glitches are on purpose.” Her heart pounded. She shouldn’t have done it. But she did.
And she felt… good. For the first time in a year. It lasted exactly two minutes. Then her screen flashed.
Security Alert: Unauthorized File Rerouting Detected—Report to Supervisor Immediately
Celine appeared at the end of the aisle, eyes wide. “You didn’t,” she whispered.
Maren stood, terrified. “I—what’s going to happen?” Celine grabbed her arm. “Come with me. Now.”
The Hidden Room
Celine led her through a series of back corridors, far away from the main operation floors. Maren’s legs shook so badly she could barely walk.
They reached a locked utility door. Celine tapped a code so fast Maren couldn’t follow.
Inside was a small room filled with disconnected servers, outdated monitors, and stacks of paper files dating back decades. It looked like an abandoned archive.
Except it wasn’t empty. Risa, Theo, and Harry were already there.
Risa closed the door behind Maren and said quietly:
“Welcome to the part of the department they pray you never find.”
Maren looked at all of them, breath trembling.
“What is this place?” “Our rebellion,” Risa said. “Small. Quiet. Hidden. But real.”
“And now,” Theo added, “you’re part of it.” Maren stared. These weren’t just coworkers.
They were the only people inside the Department who weren’t afraid to push back.
The only people who might help her expose the system.
And maybe—just maybe—they were the only ones who could help her survive it long enough to try.
Her year-long struggle to find a job had ended with the biggest job of her life:
Fight a department that controlled the entire workforce of the nation.
And she had absolutely no idea how to begin.
The Department of Placement – Part III
The Glitch Room
The hidden room smelled of dust, old paper, and something electrical—like a place the modern world forgot. Cables tangled across the floor. Server lights blinked irregularly, like dying fireflies. A single low-watt bulb hummed overhead.
Maren wrapped her arms around herself, still shaking from the alert that had nearly exposed her.
“What is this place really?” she whispered.
Theo pushed his glasses up his nose. “It’s called the Glitch Room. This used to be the original Placement hub, back when the Department was still small. When they upgraded to the current system, they sealed this room off.”
“But why hasn’t it been torn apart?” Maren asked.
“Because these old terminals run a shadow copy of the network,” Risa said. “One even the higher-ups forgot exists.”
Harry shifted nervously. “Well, mostly forgot. Sometimes they check activity logs, so we have to be careful.”
Celine crossed her arms. “We use it to hide cases. Re-route files. Delay bad placements. Sometimes even reverse assignments.”
Maren stared at them.
“So… this is where you fight back?” Risa nodded. “Quietly. Carefully. One file at a time.”
“And you risk your jobs?” Maren asked.
“We risk everything,” Celine said. “Jobs. Freedom. Lives.” Maren swallowed hard.
These people weren’t just rebelling they were resisting a system designed to crush them.
And now she was part of it.
The File That Started It
Risa pulled up a flickering monitor. Liam Hartley’s file appeared.
Status: In Review
Location: Glitch Server #4
“You did good,” Risa said. “At least you didn’t approve it.”
“But I triggered an alert,” Maren said.
Harry shook his head quickly. “We intercepted the ping. Masked it to look like a network glitch.” He wiped sweat from his brow. “You’re safe. For now.”
“For now?” Maren echoed.
Celine’s gaze hardened. “Halden will watch you closely. A recruit refusing her first assignment? That’s rare. Suspicious.”
Maren closed her eyes. The weight of everything came crashing down on her.
“I don’t know how you all live like this,” she whispered.
Theo shrugged. “We stopped living a long time ago. Surviving is easier when you have purpose.”
Risa touched Maren’s arm gently. “You joined us. That alone gives us more hope than we’ve had in years.”
Maren met her eyes. Risa’s were bright—not mischievous now, but something fiercer. Determined.
“Why me?” Maren whispered.
“Because you said no,” Risa said. “Everyone else obeys.”
Someone Is Watching
Back at her cubicle, Maren forced herself to breathe normally.
Her next assignment loaded automatically: a 32-year-old woman applying for a teaching position, marked for reassignment to warehouse labor.
It made no sense. It wasn’t right. And now Maren knew it wasn’t random.
She opened the file—carefully, slowly—and flagged it for secondary review again.
This time, no alert sounded. But a shadow crossed her screen. Maren looked up.
Halden stood several feet away, watching her.
Expression unreadable. Hands folded behind his back. Eyes fixed directly on her.
Her blood ran cold. “Miss Collins,” he said softly. “Walk with me.”
The Walk
The hallway felt colder than it should. Halden’s footsteps were precise, clicking sharply against the tile. Maren felt like she was walking beside a metronome of doom.
“You’re adjusting well,” he said. “Thank you,” she managed.
“But I sense… hesitation.” His eyes slid toward her. “That concerns me.”
Maren swallowed. “I’m still learning the system.”
“That’s exactly why hesitation is dangerous,” Halden replied. “Indecision causes waste. Delays. Errors. And errors…” He paused. “…can cause investigations.”
Her heart thudded painfully.
Halden stopped at a large window overlooking the Placements Command Floor—the massive room where hundreds of analysts moved lives around like chess pieces.
“A society thrives when its citizens are aligned to their highest purpose,” he said. “We help them achieve that—whether they know it or not.”
Maren forced her voice to stay steady. “And if someone’s purpose isn’t what they want?”
Halden smiled faintly. “Wants are luxuries. Society cannot afford luxuries.”
He turned fully toward her now, gaze sharp.
“I brought you here because you are resilient. Persistent. Hard to break. That makes you valuable.”
Then his voice dropped to a chill.
“But it also makes you dangerous… if misdirected.”
Maren’s fingers twitched. He knew. Or suspected. Or was testing her.
“Do I make myself clear, Miss Collins?” “Yes,” she whispered.
He leaned forward slightly. “Good. Because you’re being considered for accelerated access.”
Maren blinked. “Access to what?” “You’ll learn soon enough.”
He walked away. And as soon as he did, Maren felt her knees threatening to give out.
Accelerated access? Why her? How much did he know?
When she finally made it back to the Glitch Room, the others were waiting.
Risa looked up at her face and said, “Tell me everything.”
Maren did. And when she finished, the room fell silent.
Theo was the first to speak. His voice very low. Serious.
“He’s pulling you in fast,” he said. “Too fast. That means he suspects something.”
Harry wrung his hands. “Or it means he wants to use her.”
“Or test her loyalty,” Celine added. Risa turned to Maren, eyes burning with intensity.
“Whatever Halden is planning,” she said, “we have to figure it out before he figures you out.”
Maren nodded, slowly. For the first time, she wasn’t just scared. She was determined.
She had walked into this department lost and powerless. Now she had allies.
A cause. And a fire inside her that Halden had unknowingly fueled.
If the Department wanted to study her? Fine.
Because she was going to study it right back. And when the time came to expose them…
She wouldn’t hesitate.