Microstory 2545: Obstetrician

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I’m technically trained as an OB-GYN, but I practice obstetrics. It wasn’t always like that. For years, I worked as an Associate Physician at a private practice for years. I worked there in that capacity for a little too long, in fact. I should have been on the partner track. My boss kept telling me that he would let me buy into the practice to join them one day, but it never happened. It was a boy’s club, and probably not my best idea to apply there in the first place. But I absolutely adored my patients, so I stuck with it. Finally, I had had enough of being dismissed and sidelined. I started focusing on starting my own practice, at first while I was still employed, but then not once they found out, and fired me over it. “If you don’t wanna work here, then don’t work here!” Well, they had to pay into my unemployment insurance by not letting me quit, so who’s the loser now? Sorry, I get a little frustrated, even though I’ve left them in the dust. Starting my own practice was a huge struggle. I had trouble securing the loan, and no one in the industry wanted to work with me, because my old bosses bad-mouthed me to them. I was distraught. I didn’t know what to do. I started reapplying to other practices, but had no luck. I finally decided to just move out here to Kansas. I didn’t even have a job lined up. I kind of just threw a dart on a map, and took what looked interesting. I can’t remember the connection, but someone I knew knew someone who knew someone who blah, blah, blah. I had some six degrees of separation from Landis. They asked me to come work for them for their new legacy department. So, it’s not the same thing as actually owning your own practice, but I’m still the one who runs the place. I make all the decisions, and care for our patients the way I know they should be treated. As I said, I practice mostly obstetrics now, but that’s more of the way we frame it. Obviously, if one of my patients who had her child years ago comes to me with an issue in my department, I’m not going to turn her away. She lives here, and it’s my job to treat her. Oh, my old bosses were so upset when they found out that the Foundation picked me. They actually tried to do the same thing that they did for all the practices in my original area, in the hopes that they would be selected instead. What a bunch of jerks. They still won’t talk to me. They act like I stole their jobs. But my colleagues have my back, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t think that my patients would either.

Microstory 2544: Consort

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I have always wanted children. My problem has always been finding someone to have them with. I just didn’t click with anyone that I dated. Well, that’s too narrow of an explanation. There was always something wrong with the relationship. He didn’t want kids, or he said he did but it was a lie, or he cheated on me, or we grew apart, or he wasn’t responsible enough. I’m not saying anything special. I broke up with my past love interests for all the same reasons that other people do. I don’t have any family, and the job I had before this was very demanding. I could have cut back on the work, but only if I had a partner to help support the family. It wouldn’t have worked out if I had chosen to go it alone. The baby would have been cared for by babysitters, daycare workers, and/or nannies. Not that there’s anything wrong with those jobs, but I wanted to be part of the baby’s life. Truthfully—and this may make me sound like a jackass—I didn’t sign up to be with Landis, or to have a kid with superpowers. I signed up for a baby, and a home to raise it in. Now I don’t work at all, and I spend my whole day taking care of my little guy. There’s a roof over our heads, and three squares a day. That’s all we need. I’m not greedy. That’s kind of a barrier for entry into this program. Unless you have a job that you can do from home, you can’t really make any money from this. We’re not even given a stipend. If you want something, you request it from the Facilitators, and they purchase it for you, using their company accounts. Again, that’s totally fine with us. These restrictions are important, not only because of their inherent value in protecting the legacies, but because they don’t want millions of people signing up. If it were as easy as requesting that they ship potential mothers a sample of Landis’ seed, everyone would want to do it. Might as well. You have to be able to come here, you have to be willing to have sex with Landis, and you have to be all right with staying put, and just being a mother. It’s not for couples. And it’s not for moms who already have kids. It’s for people like me, who want to devote their lives to raising one amazing child. Superpowers or not, I love him and we’re happy.

Microstory 2543: Consort Facilitator

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First, I want to say that I will address the elephant in the room, but let’s just start with my background, and work our way forwards from there. I never thought that I would be doing anything like this when I first began my studies. After high school, I went to Springfield University, where I earned my undergraduate degree in social work. From there, I stayed at the same institution, where I later received my master’s in Counseling Psychology. Armed with these skills, I joined a nonprofit as a Family Planning Specialist. I met with thousands of families over the course of many years to help them understand what they wanted out of life, as well as process events of the past. There was evidently some debate when they first came up with the concept of the Legacy Department—which I named by the way; they wanted to call it Procreation. That was just a little too on the nose, and didn’t clarify the purpose of what we do here. Landis is a very special man, and many people in the world want to be a part of that. We offer some of them the chance. There are those who believe that I worked in the sex industry, and while there is nothing wrong or illegal about that, that’s not my background. Sex work coordinating jobs are all about encouraging people to have sex. That’s their business model. My job is to help people find what they want to do with their lives. And it’s not even about sex; it’s about...well, legacy. Our department is extremely discreet. We occupy the majority of the floors and their suites, currently being on seven total, which most of the staff isn’t even allowed on. Because they don’t need to be. Women find us via word of mouth. They navigate to our nondescript website, where they sign up for more information. We then initiate contact through email, moving on to more direct forms of communications like calls, video chats, and in-person interviews later. We don’t advertise, and we certainly don’t publicize the mothers, or the hopeful mothers. Before they sign up, they have all the information they need. They know that we do not pay, and they do not pay us, but we do support them throughout the whole process. They live at the hotel, and while of course they can leave at will, we encourage them to spend most of the time here, where they can be looked after and cared for. Once the child is born, its protected more strictly. We have everything that they will ever need. Our oldest child is currently four years old, and more are on their way. I must report that no child has exhibited any special abilities. I have no strong feelings on the subject, however. That is not my job. I’m here to make sure that the mothers and their babies are safe and healthy. Whether the objective is met by spreading Mr. Tipton’s ability doesn’t really matter to me. But it’s important to the women, so I make sure we do what we can to help them reach their goals. I’ve been doing it for decades, and I’m not going to stop now.

Microstory 2542: Massage Therapist

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I have been a massage therapist for thirty-eight years. I’ve always lived in Springfield, Kansas, and the surrounding areas, working most of my career for the SKS Massage Institute. I honestly don’t know why I was picked to be Landis Tipton’s exclusive masseuse. I think what happened is that the people who run the Foundation looked at our website, and chose me due to my somewhat advanced age. It might not have specifically been because I have so much experience, but because I’m not as spry as I used to be. Well, I should say that it used to be like that. I was having trouble keeping up, and not being able to make my hours. It was hard to afford rent because I just couldn’t work that much anymore. What with my arthritis, and general aches and pains, I don’t wanna say that my clients weren’t happy, but I did notice a few of them come back, but having chosen one of the younger therapists instead this time. After I met Landis, that all changed. So it’s a little ironic that now I’m only working for one client, because I could absolutely go back to work full-time, and feel just fine. What some people may not know is that Landis does not engage his ability. His breath is able to heal anyone who happens to be in the blast radius, so to speak. By working so close to him, that happens to me all the time. I know that he works closely with other team members, like his doctor, nurse, and his assistant, but as far as physical closeness, I’m probably the winner. It’s impossible to quantify, but he has probably healed me thousands of times at this point. He has a session every evening after dinner, which is after work. Unlike a lot of my past clients, he doesn’t need it for any particular problems. He’s a healer, and naturally a self-healer, so he isn’t suffering from anything. This is all about relaxation, and stress reduction. He’s being pampered, and rightly so, and I’m a core component of that. After I’m done with him, he moves onto his night job with the legacy department. He’s been honest with me that he doesn’t love it. I mean, he enjoys it, but it feels so clinical, and he doesn’t have any strong feelings for those women. It really is a job, and that is always how they have framed it. He didn’t really want to do it, but they talked him into it, because it’s one way he can change the world. With me, he wasn’t reluctant. Evidently, he used to get a lot of massages before all this, and appreciates being able to have one every day. I want to be clear about one thing, and then I won’t say anything more about it. I am a professional, and I have a professional relationship with my client, as I have throughout my entire career, with every single one of my clients. Even if I did ever do that sort of thing that’s running through your head, Landis wouldn’t need it, because of his second job. In fact, it would place that program in danger. Anyway, I count myself lucky that my job is so easy. I have lots of hobbies, and they mostly work great indoors. I like to knit and do other arts and crafts. They actually assigned me two separate suites, right next door to each other, almost all to myself. The second bedroom of my sleeping unit is a craft room, and the other room in my work unit is actually where the psychological therapist works with Landis, who is her one client too. It’s the Therapy Suite, as we call it. It makes sense to us to put them together like that. Saves time.

Microstory 2541: Therapist

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When I was still in high school, I took a job working at a university as a Therapy Actor. Students, before they can earn their degree in some type of therapy, have to participate in mock therapy sessions. To protect real patients from those who don’t quite know what they’re doing yet, the school will pay actors to come in, and pretend to have particular issues, so the students can learn. At the time, I thought that I was going to get into acting, so I figured it was a great opportunity. While I was there, however, I found myself more interested in the work that they were doing. I was never planning on ending my education, and moving to L.A. to try to make it big. I would go to college first, and get some real education in the performing arts. I figured I would take some psychology classes as well, so I had something to fall back on. I never did end up pursuing acting. I mean, I took a couple courses too, but psychology became my passion instead. I haven’t looked back. The timing was perfect. As soon as I earned my own master’s degree, Landis and his friends were setting up his foundation. I thought it would be the perfect chance to get in on the ground floor of something groundbreaking and unique. They didn’t really lie—I think they didn’t know how they were going to do it yet—but I was under the impression that I would be the resident therapist for the whole organization. They really only wanted me for Landis himself, as well as maybe a few other clients. I don’t do much throughout the day. Because of how much focus I have to place on him, I can’t pursue other work. I can’t even leave the hotel. I’m not a prisoner, but they really like to keep me close, even though I’ve never been called in for an emergency session, or anything. Landis is a pretty easy client. We mostly talk about his past, before all of these responsibilities. We do it over dinner, which kind of makes it look like a date, but it’s only in the interest of time. We kind of do it as friends, which is a very common form of therapy. Some people need that type of format. They don’t really need to be treated. They need to vent, and they would rather their therapist be able to open up to them a little too. As long as you maintain boundaries, that’s okay, and that’s what works for us. I’m paid to be one guy’s friend, and the rest of the day is for me. I didn’t have any hobbies going into this, because I was always so focused on my studies, but I’ve gotten into arts and crafts. My suitemate got me into it. It passes the time.

Microstory 2540: Concierge Doctor

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I’m obviously bound by doctor-patient confidentiality, but even if I felt comfortable divulging any privileged information about my patient, there would be nothing to say. Landis is in perfect shape, which is exactly what you would expect to find in someone with such abilities. It’s the easiest work I’ve ever done. It’s probably not necessary, it just seems rational for this one man to have a personal concierge doctor available to respond to his hypothetical needs at all times. A lot of the work I do involves running reports on his vitals. They do change, throughout the day and day to day, but they’re always within acceptable and optimal parameters. His stress levels can fluctuate, but the underlying conditions are apparently mitigated through his own self-healing. I don’t know a whole lot about it. The researchers keep their research behind closed doors. I’m just responsible for how he’s doing, not why he’s healthy. I try to follow current health guidelines regarding his lifestyle and eating habits. For one, he works twelve hours a day, which isn’t recommended, but I was overruled. Secondly, he doesn’t get any exercise, which is why I firmly believe his ability is healing him, because otherwise, he shouldn’t be doing so well. I certainly wouldn’t call him a sloth, but if he moved around more, it would either exhaust him after hours, or his own patients would have to walk with him, which is an absurd proposition. So, his diet. That’s really the only thing that I can control. I decide what goes in his body, and I run my own blood tests on him to make the best judgment calls I can for every single meal. Most people don’t have their diets so precisely tailored, but obviously, I have quite a bit of time on my hands. So I work closely with his personal chef, who has no problem following my recommendations, and Landis himself doesn’t really care. I sit at the ready should anything go wrong in my office that’s attached to the healing room, and at the end of every shift, I perform a quick physical examination. I work long hours, but they’re easy hours. Sometimes I reminisce about the rush of the emergency room, but I know how lucky I am, so I try not to take my good fortune for granted. One day, I may become obsolete entirely, and while that might sound scary, the world would be vastly superior to even the one we have today. I’m all for it.

Microstory 2539: Fareweller

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I’m the last stop on this wild ride that we call a once-in-a-lifetime miracle cure. Unlike the Greeter, my job is exactly what it sounds like. There’s a tiny bit more to it, but mostly, I just smile and wave goodbye. Most of the time, the questions I get are about where the restrooms are, how to get back to where they parked, how to get back on the highway, and the like. I make sure that they didn’t forget anything in the waiting rooms too. It doesn’t happen often, because the Guides and Queuers are watching for those types of things, but it happens; people lose stuff. Usually, they don’t even care, because they’ve just been cured, but I have to do my due diligence. There’s also one important duty that doesn’t sound like something that should be necessary, and maybe it isn’t, but I’m there, so I might as well. I always ask them if they expected Landis to breathe on them, and if he did. I know, it seems redundant, and I’ve never run into any issue, but it’s a chaotic place. It wouldn’t be impossible for someone to get confused, and wander to the exit when they ought to be looking for the entrance. It’s impossible to get through the Settlement area without paying or being paid, but if you haven’t entered the healing room yet, you absolutely could subvert the entire process. For most people, even if this does happen, they’re gonna see that EXIT sign, and realize that something went wrong. We do have patients with memory and mind problems, however, and they could get lost. Again, the Guides and Queuers are there to wrangle people into the right places, but the system isn’t perfect. This is also a great question for people to hear if they have complaints. It offers them the opportunity to air their grievances, without me first pestering them for feedback, or implying that there should be something for them to complain about. “Were you expecting Landis Tipton to breathe on you, and if so, did he?” // “Well, he did, but he also accidentally spit on my face a little, and I don’t like that.” There’s not really anything that I can do about it, but perhaps send it as feedback through the proper channels, but the biggest reason is to make sure that these people are feeling seen and heard. It’s our last chance to provide them with a quality experience, so we don’t want to miss anything. One of my co-workers came up with the idea. She thought that it was a good question to ask, and management actually agreed, so they wrote it into the procedures guide, which I think is pretty cool. They actually listen to us. Not every organization would do that. I think that’s it for me. Goodbye.

Microstory 2537: Bodyguard

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My job is pretty straightforward. Everyone knows what a bodyguard is. Landis Tipton is my one and only charge, and to clarify what that means, I will not protect anyone else at his risk. Wherever he goes, I go, and if he goes somewhere with other people, there’s likely to be another member of the security team there. That guard, and anyone else of sufficient proximity, would be responsible for handling a physical threat to those other people in the room. Landis is the only one I’m ever concerned for. I don’t wanna say that his life is worth more than anyone else’s, but...it is. Let’s be real, I’m not here to protect the highest bidder. I’ve answered a calling to serve this planet’s greatest asset, and that is not an exaggeration. I firmly believe that, and I don’t know if I could successfully do my job if I didn’t. I stand off at his flank, keeping one eye on him, and the other eye scanning for threats. Every minute, three or four people come into the healing room who have never been here before. They’re mostly grateful for the opportunity. At worst, perhaps they are anxious or scared. He does heal children, and children often fear medical environments. They are obviously not the threats I’m worried about, however, I also can’t discount them, especially since every minor has to be accompanied by a caregiver. Anyone—anyone—who walks into this room could have ulterior motives. Just because they have a disease that qualifies for healing, doesn’t mean they don’t also have some nefarious agenda. Or maybe it’s not nefarious, per se, but obsessive or destructive. A lot of people are in love with this man, or think they are, and they want more than they are entitled to. Kisses are the biggest thing. They either try to sneak one for its intrinsic value, or because they think it might somehow be a more powerful cure than his breath alone. I don’t know. I don’t care. I put a stop to it. They’re given the rules, and we have signage posted at strategic locations. They’re all fully aware of what they’re there to do, and why those rules are in place. They only spend a fraction of the time under Landis’ breath. Most of it is learning about the Foundation. So really, I don’t tolerate the missteps. I’m gentle and careful, but firm and strict. His safety comes down to more than just whether someone has a weapon or not, and I am the last line of defense against all hazards, great and small.

Microstory 2536: Executive Assistant

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They call Landis’ nurse his left-hand woman, and that’s because I’m his right-hand woman. That’s really only because I literally always stand on his right side. His left arm has better veins for drawing blood, so that’s his “medical side”. Though, they sometimes come over to my side of his body, because they need to test things like, is his blood different in his other arm? No, it’s not, by the way. As I was trying to explain, I was an assistant for three years before I landed this job. It was difficult and trying. My boss was great, but she was very demanding. She had high expectations of me, but she earned that right by building herself up from just about nothing. I figured that working for the Foundation would be a new challenge, but it’s really pretty cushy. He doesn’t exactly need me to do anything for him. His schedule is the same every day. He goes to bed by 21:30 so he can get up at 05:30 for breakfast before work at 06:00. He usually takes his half-hour lunch at 11:00. It’s his main meal, and it’s always pretty big. It’s prepared by a world-class chef whose only job is this. After his afternoon/evening healing shift is over at 18:30, he has a therapy session, which usually goes alongside his dinner. It’s much lighter than his lunch, which is important, because he then has an hour-long massage therapy session starting at 19:30. This wasn’t his idea by the way, it was prescribed to him by his doctor, who was afraid Landis would not be able to relax. He doesn’t enjoy any other relaxing hobbies, so it was kind of something they had to come up with to help. This next part is a little tricky, so let me try to keep it classy.

After the massage, Landis takes a quick shower, and then meets with a woman for about a half hour, including some light conversation. It’s a different woman every night, as coordinated by the Legacy department. This woman is virile, and of course healthy—but it’s important to note that she is typically naturally healthy. They arrange it differently sometimes for comparative experimentation, but for the most part, we’re talking about a young woman in her prime mothering years who has not undergone the healing breath treatment herself. That is what she is looking for. While the pharmaceutical company is researching paths to the panacea, an alternative program seeks to potentially expand production of the cures by simply spreading it throughout the population. Not every pregnancy takes, but all told, Landis has fathered, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......about 800 children. Woof, that’s kind of something that we don’t really talk about. Part of the funding that we receive goes into supporting these families for the rest of their lives. As of yet, no child has exhibited any special abilities, but the oldest one isn’t even five years old yet, so they’re not taking that as proof that it doesn’t work. The program continues. When I first met Landis, he was chill and funny. He liked to talk, and be around people. This experience has changed him, and while most seem to attribute his turtle-shelling to the burden of the healings, I believe the daily expectation of procreation has affected him more than anything. He likes women. He likes sex. And it’s all consensual. But it still heightens his anxiety. He still considers it part of his job. On the one hand, that makes it easier to detach himself, and simply perform. On the other hand, is that psycho-emotionally healthy? I don’t know. I really don’t. But I’m here for him every day, and if he were to ever express doubt in continuing either of his jobs, I would be the first to know. I won’t let him do anything he’s not comfortable with, even if it’s something that he’s done a thousand times before.

Microstory 2535: Private Nurse

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Because of the constant use of his healing ability, we believe that Landis Tipton is essentially not capable of getting sick. To put it another way, we believe that he is constantly healing himself by drawing the miracle breath through his body for twelve hours a day. I don’t know what the threshold would be, but I did have the privilege of meeting the original Voldisil who had the healing gift, and she said that she occasionally got the flu or the cold. And she could get papercuts, and headaches when she didn’t drink enough water. She wasn’t using her ability enough for it to work on herself. Still, there’s no reason to risk it, so I remain at Landis’ side while he’s working. I take more breaks than he does, and during those times, I’m relieved by the doctor, but then I get right back to my perch, making sure that we weren’t wrong about our hypothesis. After his normal operating hours, I no longer keep eyes on him, but I’m always close by; usually in the suite next door, or maybe the hallway. I’ve never had to treat him, but I do run frequent tests. I track his vitals, and ask him questions about how he’s feeling. That’s what causes the delays in the queue, and it’s something that I had to fight for. Technically, he could probably heal three or four times as many people per day than he does, but I will not allow it. I periodically hold things up to make sure that he’s okay because he won’t stop to tell me if there’s something wrong. It sucks. It sucks for the people waiting in line, and waiting for their appointment, and waiting for their applications to go through. But Landis’ health and well-being are important too. The breath does not cure stress. It’s a condition of state, and he’s just as susceptible to it as anyone would be in his position. He holds people’s very lives in his hands, and he has to slow down, or he could burn out psychologically and emotionally. Of course, he has his private therapist to take care of that side of things, but I certainly don’t want to undermine his potential issues by hanging back. I don’t overstep my bounds, because that too would stress him out, but we’ve been working together for years now, and have grown close. He knows that I have his best interests at heart, and that I’m doing this for the Foundation; not in spite of it. They want to keep the Foundation running, even when the panacea is discovered, but I’m not so sure. I know him pretty well, and I think he’ll be ready to be done, even if he can’t admit it to himself just yet.

Microstory 2534: Phlebotomist

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People call me Landis’ personal phlebotomist, and it’s true that I’m the only one who performs that task, but the truth is that I do it for the whole staff, and even some of the patients. There are two other phlebotomists that are there to help me with other patients. People think that working for the Foundation means that you can’t get sick. They think that if something happens, he can just heal them up real quick, and then return to his normal work. He probably would do that, but we can’t have our workers getting sick just because they have that safety net. Our health insurance company, and other regulatory bodies, would lose their minds if they found out that we were being careless with our health and safety protocols. They really don’t care what it is we do here. Sick people don’t just frequent our building. That’s literally the whole reason that we exist, and like any normal medical facility, we’re expected to take precautions. I test the staff’s blood regularly, screening them for ever transmissible disease that they may have come in contact with during their work. That’s in addition to the masking, social distancing, and cleaning that we perform to prevent the spread. Landis could have operated out of a tent in the middle of a field like those lunatic religious liars, but he chose the hotel so people could keep their distances from each other. Seriously, it was part of his initial pitch. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I mean, what’s the incubation period of a given disease, and will his breath heal it if one patient contracted something from another just five minutes ago? They didn’t know the answer to that question before. Now, after research, we know that whatever is in Landis’ breath stays in the target’s body for about a week, but we still take measures to prevent that from happening. It would be irrational not to, particularly because we don’t offer second healings. Back to what I was saying, I do draw his blood too. I do it every day, and send it off to the researchers. It was very important to him that he hire someone to do this job in house instead of relying on a contractor. It’s not like it inherently prevents mishandling of his sample, but just in general, he prefers to be the one to pay his staff. We do have a couple of contract workers, and for legal reasons, they’re not allowed to live on-site. I don’t know whether that bothers them or not, but I’m glad that I get to stay here. Room service, house-keeping. It’s like I’m on vacation all the time. You can’t beat this lifestyle. It’s not why I got certified, but I don’t hate it.

Microstory 2531: Accountant

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There’s not much I can say about my job. We all know what accounting is, and we all know it’s boring. Even accountants find it boring. We do it, because we’re good with money and numbers, and the job usually helps you make a lot of money. The starting wage is higher than a lot of people only start making near the end of their careers. That’s not me bragging, it’s me following in my mother’s footsteps, because I was a child of divorce, and lived in two homes growing up. My parents separated when I was five years old, which is when kids really start to pick up on how the people they see live their lives. That is, it’s when you start noticing the difference between your rich friends and your poor friends. It’s when you catch the news out of the corner of your eye, and realize that there’s a lot of pain in the world. It’s basically when you wake up to the harsh realities of life. My mom was an accountant, and my dad was a temp. She lived in a house. He lived in an apartment. He was a good guy, and they maintained a decent relationship. He found a place as close to her as possible, so I was eventually able to walk between them at the end of every week. But like I said, I saw the difference, and it moulded me into the person I am today. They say that becoming an accountant is safe, and for the most part, that’s true, but there’s a caveat. If you’re no good at math, walk away. Walk away now. No career accountant failed a math class in high school, or college. It just doesn’t happen. And that’s okay, there are plenty of great paths for you. I walked down this one, because I knew what was on the other side. That’s always been very important to me, because I was lacking that during the divorce, when I didn’t understand what was going to happen to me. Things have ended up okay, but I hated that uncertainty. Numbers are not uncertain. There is an answer to every equation, even if you don’t know what it is. I take comfort in knowing that if there’s an error in the bookkeeping, it’s possible to find it. It’s not abstract or hidden. You just have to know where to look, and that’s what I do. I make sure there are no errors. I make sure that the right amount of money is coming in, and the right amount is going out. It’s not easy, but it’s not ambiguous.

Microstory 2529: Settlement Specialist

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I was one of the first people to work at the Foundation, I’m proud to say. I’m the one who came up with my own job title. They wanted to call it a Cashier, because that’s the best they could come up with, but it’s not really accurate. No one is paying up little enough money to warrant dealing with cash, and we absolutely can’t payout in cash either, even at the smallest figures. We will agree to write you a check if you really think you can handle it, but we don’t even like that. I’m not saying that scammers and muggers hang around our hotel, waiting to steal people’s money because they know that’s what we do here, but it’s not like it’s a secret, so it’s entirely plausible. We really prefer direct deposit, but we understand that not everyone is banked. This is why we’ve partnered with WinterTree Bank to offer clients prepaid debit cards for their financial needs. They’re useless without the PIN, and can be reloaded at the ATM should they like to deposit any other cash they do receive, or a paycheck. While the Financial Evaluators determine how much a patient owes or receives, and the Accounts keep track of our finances overall, I’m responsible for making sure that money goes in, or comes out, accordingly. Once Landis finishes his healing, they come to me, or one of my teammates. We verify their ID, we confirm with them and their Guide that they did indeed receive a breath treatment, and we explain to them what the computer says about their situation. People who are making a pay-up know roughly how much money it’s going to be, but the people receiving payouts are not provided with this information ahead of time. They are quite often rather surprised. Sometimes it’s good news, and sometimes not, though, because some were hoping for a little bit of money, when it turns out they don’t qualify for either. They don’t have to pay, but they’re not getting any money either. You need to have thick skin working this job, and you need to know how to handle stress. It can be quite the roller coaster. It’s usually rewarding. For people receiving money from us, it’s almost always so much more than they dreamed of getting. But it can be hard when they’ve heard rumors of how much some people are getting, and their case doesn’t match up with their hopes. It’s a little like gig jobs, where the company will advertise that you can make up to a thousand dollars in one day, when really, that’s something that happened to one driver once, who happened to keep being at the right place at the right time, and it still didn’t give him health insurance. Even so, for the most part, the patients are grateful, even the ones who pay-up, because they’ve just been healed, and that puts most people in a good mood. This job is worth the uncertainty.

Microstory 2527: Poor Patient

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I used to clean toilets for a living, which speaks both to my financial situation, and my medical problems. For years, I was asked to do my job with a cleaning solution called Bartho’s. You may have heard about them in the news recently. It was discovered that Bartho’s included a chemical known as diacetyl. They were aware of its harmful effects when inhaled, but deliberately kept it off of their ingredient list. That is a huge no-no, and it’s why we’re going to win this class-action lawsuit no matter what Henderen Co. says about the ultimate solution to their gross negligence. Can you believe that they actually point to Landis Tipton as the reason why the case should be dismissed? They claim that their clear violation of safety laws doesn’t matter now that any disease that might have been caused by their mislabeled products can be cured with a simple breath. Oh, that’s not gonna fly. Not everyone has access to the cure, and even if we did, that doesn’t mean they didn’t break the law. It’s not even about the money; it’s about the injustice. Money, I have now. As a patient at the Foundation with low income, I was awarded roughly $6,000 dollars in addition to my healing. There were no stipulations or hoops to jump through. I sent them my bank statements, and they gave me free money. It’s just this extra little thing that they do. I don’t understand how the model works, but I think it all comes down to the fact that it’s a non-profit. From what I hear, it’s relatively easy for them to pay for their expenses. It’s therefore easier to charge the wealthiest patients up the wazoo, and give any extra they end up with to people like me. If you think about it, it’s not that crazy. Billionaires get sick too, and they may have access to better health resources, but there’s only so much you can do. Five years ago, very few diseases had been cured. So they can afford thousands, or even millions, of dollars to save their lives. They were probably paying more for persistent treatment, so for them, it’s still a great deal. And it supports everyone else. Which, if they have a problem with, they probably don’t deserve to be healed. Anyway, I’m still scrubbing toilets, but now maybe my son can go to college.

Microstory 2521: Queuer

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Guides and Queuers are two sides of the same coin. My co-workers are there to answer questions because they are a lot more knowledgeable about how all of this works. My primary responsibility is to literally keep the line moving. We maintain constant contact with each other, and coordinate to make sure the process is physically smooth while patients transition from one place to another. To do this job, you need to have great spatial reasoning, and the ability to count a group of people extremely quickly. Has a job interviewer ever asked you that before? Did you ever study that in school? It’s not as easy as it sounds. Counting heads is just something you have to practice, but it’s vital to our job of making sure everyone is in the right place at the right time. We simultaneously don’t want too many people, or too few. It wastes everybody’s time, including both patients and staff. Landis can only heal one person at a time, so it’s up to the rest of us to make sure each next person is ready to go once he’s done with the last one. It’s stressful and chaotic, but I find it quite invigorating. The line never ends until the end of the day, but man, once we get there, it’s so satisfying. You don’t even know. One by one, the last of the patients step through that door, and you feel like you’ve completed a puzzle. And this happens every single day. Well, I mean, I don’t always have the post-lunch shift, so I don’t always see the end, but then I saw the beginning, and either way, it’s rewarding to keep people moving through that queue. Since you have to be good at counting people, and at recognizing them—so you don’t start giving people the same instructions they already heard, or asking them duplicate questions—you really see the progress you’re making. One after another; Bob, then Sue, then Sally, then Manuel. They walk up, go in, and disappear, never to be seen again. If you notice the same person too many times, you’re probably not coordinating them correctly. If you don’t ever notice the same person more than once, you’re probably not fit for the job. It’s all about balance. That’s what I tell people. I’m a balance worker. Moving lines, adjusting stanchions, filling waiting rooms as soon as they’re emptied of the group before. It’s a delicate dance that would probably make for a good show if you could see it from a God’s eye view. And I get to be one of the choreographers.

Microstory 2517: Campground Manager

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Even though it’s not my department, I do receive daily updates from the hotel about how they’re faring in there. I know how many people got in line, and how many people were cured. Those numbers are usually quite close together, with only a handful of people who ever have to wait until the next day. They’re obviously marked as such, and prioritized in the morning. Delays are built into the schedule, but it’s never perfect. In fact, if it ever gets to be too much, Landis will work extra hours to make up for it. That’s just the kind of guy he is. I’ve never met him. We’re worlds apart. I’m one of the few staff members who does not have a room in the building, and in my case, it’s a necessity. I’m on the clock 24/7, and always have to be available to the guests. People come from far and wide to get their cure. They encourage visitors to check into nearby hotels (which are still hotels, and not healing foundations). For these places, that’s just about all they do. You’re gonna have a hard time finding a room if you just wanna take a tour of the area. They’ll ask you to find somewhere close to the city. While there’s no rule against it for these unrelated facilities, there is one for the campground. We will not assign you a plot if you aren’t scheduled for a healing in the next week at the most. We understand that some people want to come early, because they’re worried about travel delays, which is why the campground exists in the first place, but we can’t have people living here for weeks on end. We certainly can’t accommodate people who just want to be ready to go while they wait for their application to be processed. I promise you, once you’re accepted, you will have plenty of time to make arrangements for travel. There is no such thing as a same-day appointment here. I hear so many requests for that. Everybody wants to be bumped up the list. First of all, I don’t have that kind of pull. I just manage the plots, and the tents for people who can’t afford their own. Secondly, everyone in the world wants to get in on this, and Landis can only see about 2,000 people per day. There are no bribes here. There are no special accommodations. Everybody’s sick, we are not going to prioritize based on need. The only fair way to do it is on a first come, first serve basis. The amount of coordination that would go into quantifying patients for triage is an unreasonable expectation to have for any organization. You would be waiting for years, just like people have done for organ transplants through conventional medicine. Is that what you want? Trust me, it’s better if you sign up, and snag an appointment a few weeks out. Application control comes from the scope of the application itself. If you just have a boo-boo on your knee, or you’re unwilling to divulge your financial situation, it’s going to slow things down. Only people who are serious about this are going to get through, which is why the 2,000 patient per day figure isn’t too much lower than the applicant per day figure—whatever that is; I don’t have those numbers. I know, I’m talking a lot about things that don’t really have anything to do with me, but that’s because my job isn’t that hard. A lot of this is self-service. We don’t provide meals, we don’t offer travel to and from. I’m mostly here to make sure the only people who try to drive through that gate are authorized, and that we have enough space for everyone. I don’t even handle security. Don’t get me wrong; it’s a lot of work, and it gets tough in the winter, but it’s pretty straight-forward, and far less stressful than it is for some of my colleagues. They may get to work inside, but I wouldn’t want to field the kind of questions they get every day.

Microstory 2514: Staff Supervisor

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I was one of the first people who Landis and the Director hired after all the contract work retrofitting the hotel was finished. He figured, if you’re going to start hiring people, you better find someone with experience doing that, so they can handle it for you. Prior to this job, I had eight years under my belt working in Staff Services at various organizations. I wouldn’t have called myself the best of the best, and that’s what Landis was looking for, I think. He was working with a tight budget, so he couldn’t waste all his seed money on someone who would demand mid-six figures. Don’t get me wrong, I knew what I was doing. He gave me a list of positions he thought that we would need to work the Foundation, I added to it, we collaborated, and I worked to fill out the staff. Unlike a lot of other startups, we kind of needed a full staff right away. We couldn’t just start with a few people, and grow our business gradually. As soon as the public even caught a wisp of a hint that there might be someone in Kansas who could possibly even plausibly come anywhere close to alleviating their conditions even just a little bit, we knew that they would arrive here in droves for help. We needed people to coordinate all the visitors, to manage all the finances, to care for the patients, to support Landis directly, to maintain the facilities, and to reach out to the community. We’ve added a few brand new positions since then, like the Research Liaison, and everyone in the Legacy Department, but for the most part, we had a solid idea of what today would look like. Yeah, I’m just looking at our old notes, and we were pretty spot on. We did the math, and determined how many people Landis could heal in one day, which gave us the number of workers we needed to keep track of them, and we’ve not had to go too far beyond that. This is the best job I’ve ever had, because I actually feel like I’m making a difference in the world. I count myself lucky to be on board, and I think pretty much everyone here would say the same thing. It’s my job to know these things. If someone were having a problem, I would know about it.

Microstory 2511: Landis Tipton Himself

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My name is Landis Tipton, and I don’t like to brag about myself. I really think that anyone in my position would do the same thing that I did. They might not do it in the exact same way, but they would have done everything they could to help. For one, while being awake for several hours every day, and meeting thousands of people, is exhausting, it doesn’t compare to what lots of other people do for work. I breathe on people. That’s it. It’s so simple. I get situated in my big apparatus, and breathe. Each time I cure someone, that’s all it feels like. It doesn’t drain me of energy, it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. Anyone could do what I do and feel fine. I mean, I’m breathing anyway. I might as well cure someone while I’m at it. They take really good care of me here at the hotel. They treat me like a god, even when I don’t want them too. Yes, I have a personal assistant, a personal chef, a bodyguard, a nurse, a doctor, and a masseuse. I’m not gonna sit here and claim that I’m not living a privileged life. You expect me to say a but here, but there is none. It’s a good life. The least I can do is make it count. If I weren’t doing something to earn it—if I were just randomly born a king, or some stupid thing like that—I would have no appreciation for any of this. My dad used to try to teach me that I had to contribute positively to society, in one way or another. I never understood that until five years ago when I started this Foundation. To clarify, I knew what he meant when he would tell me that, but I failed to recognize its importance. I’m contributing now, and I feel lucky to be capable of doing it in this way. They’re getting close to a panacea, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life after that. Would my father still be proud if I just hid away, and stopped working? My friend insisted that I take in a salary for this. I insisted that it be a modest amount, but after all this time of everything I need being paid for by the Foundation, it’s added up to being more than enough to live happily, and without having to find another job. My problem is that I’m not all that bright, and I never actually had a salaried position before this. So I was thinking in terms of an hourly rate. I work twelve hours a day, which may sound like a lot, but again, I just sit there and breathe on people. Not exactly grueling...kind of monotonous, really. I do work seven days a week with no vacation time, but my evenings are pretty relaxed, and I don’t have anywhere that I want to travel to, so that’s not a problem. The hotel has been paid for, including the suite that I live in, and I’ll probably stay here after the panacea goes on the market. So that means no rent. Even when I have to start paying for things again, like food and utilities, I doubt I’ll ever break $2000 a month. A pay of $15 an hour for five years has added up to over $300,000. If I do that math, it should last me about...thirteen years. Hm. I’m not making as much as I thought. Well. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m not greedy. I’m just Landis.

Extremus: Year 108

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Tinaya and Silveon are sitting in their living room. The latter has the day off from school while the former has a day off from work. Arqut was here earlier, and will be back later, but he had to leave for a while to meet with the Bridger Section Superintendent. They started doing this a few years ago, but they don’t reveal what their discussions are about. His family has learned to not ask questions. Well, they didn’t really need to learn that. They each have their own secrets.

“This is actually the best time for me. It’s one of the things that works in my favor. I wouldn’t be—” He’s cut off.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Thistle says. “A visitor approaches.”

“Open the door,” Tinaya says.

Soon after it opens, a woman appears from around the corner. “Sorry to bother you, Family Leithe.”

“Hey, Marquita,” Silveon says. He hasn’t finished his education yet, but he apparently already knows some of the people he’ll be working with once he earns his license.

“Hey, Silveon,” she replies. “The Captain would like to speak with you.”

“Him, and not me?” Tinaya presses.

“I’m afraid he didn’t say anything about it. What do you think? What would he have intended? I can’t lose this job. My parents will never speak to me again.”

“It’s okay, Marquita,” Tinaya insists. “I’ve known Oceanus for years. If he doesn’t want me there, I’ll leave, and he won’t hold it against you. He won’t even make any connection between you and me. Where is he?”

“His office. No teleportation.”

Each Captain has run their ship differently. Halan never stayed in one place too long, and rarely stepped foot on the bridge. He might not have even been aware that he had an office. Kaiora conducted most of her work in her ready room. Tamm grew up watching old scifi media, like Star Trek and Galaxy Quest, where a lot of the action took place on the bridge, so that’s where he felt most comfortable. Lataran operated out of a command center that was particularly close to the entrance to the Bridger Section. She seemingly stayed in direct contact with them during her tenure, but Tinaya was on Verdemus for most of the time, so she wasn’t really around for that. Oceanus likes his office. It’s away from everything, and he considers it to be highly secure. There is no teleportation in or out, and he’s completely cut off from system-wide superintelligence, which is why he couldn’t just tell Thistle to summon Silveon for him.

The three of them make their way down the corridors, and up to Captain Jennings’ office. “Be with you in a moment,” he says, busy typing on his computer without even looking up.  A few minutes later, he gets to a stopping point. “Admiral, I didn’t expect you.”

“Sorry, sir. It was my fault,” Marquita begins to say.

“I insisted on coming,” Tinaya claims. “This is highly irregular.”

“Your son is an adult,” Oceanus says. “I can speak with whomever I must.”

“Based on what happened with Soto Tamm,” Tinaya begins, “I wouldn’t say that’s true.”

Oceanus nods. “Quite.” He stands, and starts to walk around his desk. “Thank you, Miss Sugar. Please take a break.”

“Much appreciated, sir.” Marquita curtsies and exits.

Oceanus smiles as he watches her leave. “Her teacher retired before you matriculated, Mister Grieves. She was...old fashioned. I’m sure you didn’t learn to bow.”

“We learn a shoulder bow,” Silveon answers. He demonstrates it by closing his eyes gently, tilting his head, and lowering it down ever so slightly; only enough for his shoulders to make a small dip.”

“I suppose I could be okay with that. I don’t know how to get her to stop and just nod to me plainly.”

“I see,” is all that Silveon says.

“Marquita is who I wanted to speak with you about, actually,” Oceanus goes on.

“Sir?”

“She’s new...new for me, anyway. As you’re obviously aware, stewards don’t have shift lengths. You work as long as you want to, and as well as your contribution points hold after you decide to leave. She’s good at her job. She’s a bit frazzled and flustered, but she knows her shit. I can’t just let her go.”

“What is this about, Oceanus?” Tinaya asks, stepping in. “Did Silveon ask you to fire her, or something?”

“Oh, of course he would never ask me that, would you, Silveon?” Oceanus casually leans against the edge of his desk. “No, I just wanted to get ahead of this. By the time you’re seasoned enough to become an executive steward, my shift will have ended, and your only hope for an executive position of any kind—let alone her job—will lie with my successor, or perhaps even their successor.”

“Sir, I wasn’t expecting any sort of special treatment.” Silveon looks over at his mother. “That my mom is an Admiral, or that she knows you, has no bearing on my pursuit of stewardship. I’m not even sure that I would want an executive assignment.”

Oceanus chuckles. “Everyone says that. They wanna sound humble. But everyone wants an executive assignment.” He reaches over to a book on his desk that’s sitting on a display stand. He flips it open. They catch glimpses of past captains before he finds the right page. On it is what they call his main Star Photo. The captain gets photographed a number of times throughout their shift, with various important figures. This has included standing with their Admiral, with the council or the First and Second Chairs, and some other leaders. Tinaya had one with her family, though she’s unique for that since she was the only captain with a family of her own. The main photo is always with the lieutenants, since they’re the primo team. Oceanus’ First and Second L-Ts aren’t the only people in this photo, however. Marquita is there as well, standing in the corner, almost not moving at all. If not for her occasional blinks, they would think it was a still photo of her inserted into the animation, but for some reason, not animated as well. The three men aren’t moving that much either, but trying to look regal and sophisticated, with puffed out chests, and rising chins. “The Captain’s Steward is always in the Star Photo.”

That is a lie, and an easily disproven one too. Soto Tamm is the first captain to employ an ever-present steward. She was just as mousey and invisible as Marquita appears in this anipicture, but she was always there, somewhere nearby. He wanted her to be available at all times, but not close enough to even look like they knew each other. Looking back, what he turned out to be shouldn’t have been surprising. He was a self-centered dick. His predecessors didn’t use stewards at all. Halan didn’t even allow one to be assigned to him, preferring to get his own hands dirty. Olindse and Kaiora basically always had their stewards work from home, which really meant, I don’t need you. Enjoy your life. Lataran and Tinaya typically asked their stewards to assist their respective Lieutenants’ Stewards on whatever projects needed to be completed on that side of things. So the truth is, Oceanus is the only one using his for the job’s intended purpose, both utilizing her skills, and respecting her boundaries, while also respecting her as a person. Tinaya could clarify all this, but she zips her mouth shut.

“Be that as it may,” Silveon replies, “I’ll be happy wherever they place me, or with whoever they place me with. There are all kinds of stewards on Extremus. Some of them are attached to people, while others are tied to a particular area, or even one room. It’s actually the only role that crosses the imaginary crew-civilian boundary. It’s just one big department. That part is what some don’t truly understand. A lot of people look down on the job, because it always feels like something that anyone can do. And when you look at only one steward in a vacuum, sure, it might seem like that, but the truth is that that person did not go to school to learn how to be that specific type of steward.

The department is fluid, with workers shifting from one assignment to another, sometimes by the week. You have to know how to be an engineering steward as well as a Lieutenant’s Steward, or even a Captain’s Steward. That’s obviously when you’re at the show, and the most coveted type of all, but you can’t rely on that during your education. Stewards know the entire ship. If you have a relatively basic question about how the material reclamation system works, try asking a mess hall steward. Unless it’s overly complicated, and something only a reclamation maintenance worker would know, they’ll probably have an answer for you.

“I just wanted to mitigate your expectations,” Oceanus explains. “When I found out that you were studying stewardship, I thought maybe it had something to do with me, and I wanted to make sure you understood the timeline. You’re just too young.”

“If my son wants to work directly for a captain, you could help with that. Pick a good captain to succeed you.”

Oceanus smiles widely. “That was always the plan. There are too many captains with criminal records, I’ve always said that.”

“Is that all?” Tinaya asks. “My husband will be back from his meeting soon, and we were wanting to play a game of racquetball together.”

“All three of you? Playing cut-throat.”

“We don’t call it that.”

“Well, I’ll let you go soon, but I do wanna ask, Silveon, what made you decide to go into stewardship? It’s about the furthest you could be from your mom’s path, and your father’s, for that matter. Bit of a rebel?”

“Just my personality, sir. I like to move around.” What he likes is to be a fly on the wall. The reality is that this is his best way forward if he wants to protect his mission. He and Waldemar are growing apart, and it would not be politically prudent for Waldemar to select Silveon as one of his lieutenants, or any other high-up position. It wouldn’t garner extra support, and it wouldn’t give him access to anything special. Stewards are generally invisible. They’re there to help if you need something, but when you don’t, you don’t pay them any attention. They see everything, and they talk to each other. That is the benefit of having such a large department. They can meet up and swap stories without shirking their duties, because one of the others can jump in to cover them at a moment’s notice.

Managing Stewards are just as gossipy as the rest. They’re not really bosses, but more like human schedulers. Getting the promotion doesn’t earn them significantly more contribution points, and doesn’t gain them clout. So they’re still just stewards themselves, and are willing to move things around when secrets need to be shared. Even if Silveon doesn’t ever make it all the way up to an executive assignment, he’ll be able to track Waldemar’s movements and decisions. Oceanus has nothing to do with it, and he never did. That’s what they were discussing when Marquita showed up. The timeline is going well. Silveon is getting his licensure right now, and at the right age to be in a good spot when Waldemar rises to power.

“Well.” Oceanus steps back over to the other side of his desk. “I won’t keep you two any longer. Enjoy your day off together.”

“Thank you, sir,” Silveon says. He leaves the room.

Tinaya decides to hang back for just one moment. “Oshie?” she asks. She doesn’t call him this often, but she’s the only one who does, other than his mother.

“Yes, Tiny?”

“You’re doing a fine job. My son would be honored to be your steward, if the timing worked out. Marquita seems very happy.”

“Thank you for saying that.”

She looks over her shoulder, but changes her mind once more. She steps over and picks up the Star Book. She comes around the desk and sets it down in front of him. “Did you know it could do this?” She places her index fingers on the top of the photo, and her thumbs underneath, farther apart from each other. After holding for a few seconds, she turns her index fingers outwards, and her thumbs closer together. The image shifts. It looks about the same as before, except Marquita is now the one in the foreground, while the men are relegated to the background in her place.

He smiles up at her. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“All anipictures can do it.”

“Ha. Could you erase Tamm from his own Star?”

Tinaya flips over to Soto’s Star Photo. She places her three middle fingers on Soto’s image, holding for a few seconds again. She then swipes all the way over to the left, carrying him with her. When she crosses past the border, he never returns. Soto Tamm is gone from his own picture.

“Interesting,” Oceanus responds, seemingly deep in thought. “Very interesting.”

“What do you have planned?” She asks him.

“You’ll see. One day.”

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