The Circle

told you the checkups are biweekly?”
    “So that’s—”
    The doctor smiled. “Every two weeks. That’s the wellness component. If you come here
     only when there’s a problem, you never get ahead of things. The biweekly checkups
     involve diet consultations,and we monitor any variances in your overall health. This is key for early detection,
     for calibrating any meds you might be on, for seeing any problems a few miles away,
     as opposed to after they’ve run you over. Sound good?”
    Mae thought of her dad, how late they’d realized his symptoms were MS. “It does,”
     she said.
    “And all the data we generate here is available to you online. Everything we do and
     talk about, and of course all your past records. You signed the form when you started
     that allowed us to bring in all your other doctors’ information, so finally you’ll
     have it all in one place, and it’s accessible to you, to us, and we can make decisions,
     see patterns, see potential issues, given our access to the complete picture. You
     want to see it?” the doctor asked, and then activated a screen on the wall. Mae’s
     entire medical history appeared before her in lists and images and icons. Dr. Villalobos
     touched the wallscreen, opening folders and moving images, revealing the results of
     every medical visit she’d ever had—back to her first checkup before starting kindergarten.
    “How’s that knee?” the doctor asked. She’d found the MRI Mae had done a few years
     ago. Mae had opted not to get ACL surgery; her previous insurance didn’t cover it.
    “It’s functional,” Mae said.
    “Well, if you want to take care of it, let me know. We do that here at the clinic.
     It would take an afternoon and of course would be free. The Circle likes its employees
     to have operational knees.” The doctor turned from the screen to smile at Mae, practiced
     but convincing.
    “Piecing together some of the stuff when you were very young was a challenge, but
     from here on out, we’ll have near-complete information.Every two weeks we’ll do blood work, cognitive tests, reflexes, a quick eye exam,
     and a rotating retinue of more exotic tests, like MRIs and such.”
    Mae couldn’t figure it out. “But how is this affordable for you guys? I mean, the
     cost of an MRI alone—”
    “Well, prevention is cheap. Especially compared to finding some Stage-4 lump when
     we could have found it at Stage 1. And the cost differential is profound. Because
     Circlers are generally young and healthy, our health care costs are a fraction of
     those at a similar-sized company—one without the same kind of foresight.”
    Mae had the feeling, which she was used to by now at the Circle, that they alone were
     able to think about—or were simply alone in being able to
enact
—reforms that seemed beyond debate in their necessity and urgency.
    “So when was your last checkup?”
    “Maybe college?”
    “Okay, wow. Let’s start with your vital signs, all the basics. Have you seen one of
     these?” The doctor held out a silver bracelet, about three inches wide. Mae had seen
     health monitors on Jared and Dan, but theirs were made of rubber, and fit loosely.
     This one was thinner and lighter.
    “I think so. It measures your heart rate?”
    “Right. Most of the longtime Circlers have some version of it, but they’ve been complaining
     about it being too loose, like some kind of bangle. So we’ve modified it so it stays
     in place. You want to try it on?”
    Mae did. The doctor fit it onto her left wrist, and clicked it closed. It was snug.
     “It’s warm,” Mae said.
    “It’ll feel warm for a few days, then you and the bracelet will get used to each other.
     But it has to touch the skin, of course, to measure what we’d like to measure—which
     is everything. You did want the full program, right?”
    “I think so.”
    “In your intake, you said you wanted the complete recommended array of measurements.
     Is that still true?”
    “It is.”
    “Okay. Can you drink this?” The doctor handed Mae the dense green liquid she’d been
     preparing. “It’s a smoothie.”
    Mae drank it down. It was viscous and cold.
    “Okay, you just ingested the sensor that will connect to your wrist monitor. It was
     in that glass.” The doctor punched Mae’s shoulder playfully. “I love doing that.”
    “I already swallowed it?” Mae said.
    “It’s the best way. If I put it in your hand, you’d hem and haw. But the sensor is
     so