The Circle

temperature, it could
     show the average temperature for the previous twenty-four hours, the high and the
     low, the median.
    “And of course,” Dr. Villalobos said, “all that data is stored in the cloud, and in
     your tablet, anywhere you want it. It’s always accessible, and is constantly updated.
     So if you fall, hit your head, you’re in the ambulance, the EMTs can access everything
     about your history in seconds.”
    “And this is free?”
    “Of course it’s free. It’s part of your health plan.”
    “It’s so pretty,” Mae said.
    “Yeah, everyone loves it. So I should ask the rest of the standard questions. When
     was your last period?”
    Mae tried to remember. “About ten days ago.”
    “Are you sexually active?”
    “Not at the moment.”
    “But in general?”
    “Generally, sure.”
    “Are you taking birth control pills?”
    “Yes.”
    “Okay. You can move that prescription over here. Talk to Tanya on your way out, and
     she’ll give you some condoms for the things the pill can’t prevent. Any other medications?”
    “Nope.”
    “Antidepressants?”
    “Nope.”
    “Would you say you’re generally happy?”
    “I am.”
    “Any allergies?”
    “Yes.”
    “Oh right. I have those here. Horses, too bad. Any family history of illness?”
    “Like, at my age?”
    “Any age. Your parents? Their health is good?”
    Something about how the doctor asked the question, how she so clearly expected the
     answer to be yes, her stylus hovering above her tablet, knocked the wind out of Mae,
     and she couldn’t speak.
    “Oh honey,” she said, and bringing her arm around Mae’s shoulder and tilting her close.
     She smelled faintly floral. “There there,” she said, and Mae began to cry, her shoulders
     heaving, her nose and eyes flooding. She knew she was getting the doctor’s cotton
     coat wet, but it felt like release, and forgiveness, and Mae found herself telling
     Dr. Villalobos about her father’s symptoms, his fatigue, his accident over the weekend.
    “Oh Mae,” the doctor said, stroking her hair. “Mae. Mae.”
    Mae couldn’t stop. She told Dr. Villalobos about his soul-flaying insurance situation,
     how her mother was expecting to spend the rest of her life caring for him, fighting
     for every treatment, hours on the phone every day with those people—
    “Mae,” the doctor finally said, “have you asked HR about adding your parents to the
     company plan?”
    Mae looked up at her. “What?”
    “There are a handful of Circlers who have family members like that on the insurance
     plan. I would imagine it’s a possibility in your situation.”
    Mae had never heard of such a thing.
    “You should ask HR,” the doctor said. “Or actually, maybe you should just ask Annie.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Annie said that night. They were in Annie’s office,
     a large white room with floor-to-ceiling windows and a pair of low couches. “I didn’t
     know your parents had this insurance nightmare.”
    Mae was looking at a wall of framed photos, each of them featuring a tree or shrub
     grown into a pornographic shape. “Last time I was here you had only six or seven,
     right?”
    “I know. Word got out that I was some passionate collector, so now someone gives me
     one every day. And they’re getting filthier all the time. See the one on top?” Annie
     pointed to a photo of an enormous phallic cactus.
    A copper-skinned face appeared in the doorway, her body hidden around the corner.
     “You need me?”
    “Of course I need you, Vickie,” Annie said. “Don’t go.”
    “I was thinking of heading to the Sahara kickoff thing.”
    “Vickie. Don’t leave me,” Annie said, deadpan. “I love you and don’t want us to be
     apart.” Vickie smiled, but seemed to be wondering when Annie would end this bit and
     let her go.
    “Fine,” Annie said. “I should go, too. But I can’t. So go.”
    Vickie’s face disappeared.
    “Do I know her?” Mae asked.
    “She’s on my team,” Annie said. “There are ten of us now but Vickie’s my go-to. You
     hear about this Sahara thing?”
    “I think so.” Mae had read an InnerCircle notice about it, some plan to count the
     grains of sand in the Sahara.
    “Sorry, we were talking about your dad,” Annie said. “I can’t understand why you wouldn’t
     tell me.”
    Mae told her the truth, which was that she didn’t see any scenario where her father’s
     health would overlap with the Circle. There was no company