Death-Cast won’t just tell people when they’ll die. We’ll make sure their lives don’t go unlived.
—Joaquin Rosa, creator of Death-Cast
July 31, 2010
Joaquin Rosa
12:00 a.m.
Death-Cast might call Joaquin Rosa to tell him he’s going to die, but it would be a shame for the company’s creator to not live long enough to see how his creation changes life as we know it.
Truth be told, there are many people who would like Joaquin dead.
People fear change, and this is the biggest change the world has experienced since the internet. It doesn’t help that Joaquin won’t tell the public how his company can predict when someone will die. He understands the curiosity behind this life-changing service. He’s even been amused by the more outrageous theories, such as psychics with futuristic crystal balls, a league of assassins killing people to create balance in an overpopulated world, and—his personal favorite—time-travelers jumping into the future and returning with the next day’s obituaries. Nonetheless, Joaquin is remaining tight-lipped because he doesn’t believe the world is ready for the truth.
Once that door opens, there will be no closing it.
Shortly after Death-Cast’s very discreet inception years ago, Joaquin disclosed everything to Central Intelligence. And by everything, he means everything. Death-Cast has become Joaquin’s life’s work—a mission even greater than fatherhood—and that work could easily be shut down without governmental support. The process was absolutely draining, so much so that he was tempted to quit before he could begin. But the service Death-Cast will provide is far too important to every living soul who has been robbed by the grim reaper without warning. Sure, some of Joaquin’s intentions have ultimately been limited by the government, and he’s dreading the day that Death-Cast’s power is abused, but for now, he’s been cleared to start the work.
The moment is finally here.
Inside Death-Cast’s flagship headquarters in New York City, Joaquin Rosa is ready to change the world.
He’s going to make history by calling the first Decker, the official name he decided his staff would call those who are about to die. He believes every Decker must be treated as if they’re on the decks of their own ships, the captains of their journeys, with their final destinations on the horizon.
There’s a quote by the author John A. Shedd that Joaquin thinks of often: “A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.”
He likes to think he’s giving people the opportunity for one last sail.
Earlier this evening during his CNN special, Joaquin was asked if opting in to End Day notifications was doing a disservice to how life should be experienced without warning of when it’s all over.
“If people want mystery, perhaps they should pick up a detective novel,” Joaquin had answered with a crooked smile. “If these lives are truly our only ones, we’re better off living them without the mystery of when it will all be over. You know what you can’t do once you’re pronounced dead? You can’t make sure your finances are in order for your family. You can’t finally do the thing you’ve been scared to do your entire life. You can’t tell someone you’re sorry. You can’t tell someone you love them.” Joaquin had uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, closer to the interviewer, like he was about to share the universe’s biggest secret. “Death-Cast won’t just tell people when they’ll die. We’ll make sure their lives don’t go unlived.”
Joaquin knows the devastations of losing someone unexpectedly.
It’s midnight, but no one is celebrating.
All eyes are on him, sitting at a computer in the heart of Death-Cast’s headquarters.
The call center has colorful walls, happy and healthy plants, and stone fountains with water cascading onto white rocks. It’s a beautiful backdrop for photo shoots, yes, but this was designed by his wife to be a soothing environment for the operators—known as heralds, since they’re the ultimate messengers—during their harrowing shifts. This job can mentally scar someone, Joaquin knows this. That’s why instead of psychics and assassins and time-travelers, the world will find therapists and crisis counselors and social workers operating the phones to console the Deckers while being mindful of protecting themselves.