I finish my daily read and push myself out of bed. It’s a big day. The day Louise has been working toward for over a year.

We’re installing the implant on the first of the Geologists, Father’s second class of children. If things go to plan, this will be their first step toward applying our family’s nanotech to solve all the world’s issues with the scarcity of anything you could pull from the ground.

Louise invited me to the procedure, though I’m mostly just going to be there for moral support. She did all the heavy lifting figuring the medical stuff out with some help from Evan. If this goes well, we’ll still have a chance to put Father’s big plan back on track. If not, well, maybe someone else will be able to save the world.

I hit the showers and get dressed. I’ve been tempted lately to move into the Residence now that it’s mostly empty. It would be nice to have my own bathroom again. And I wouldn’t hate having a room closer to Father’s office, no, my office. But I just don’t feel like I deserve that. Good things are for good people, and that’s not me. Besides, I don’t want my sibs thinking that I’m trying to take Father’s place as the new head of this family cult he built.

I catch sight of Marc in the dorm’s common room. He’s up early today. Usually I’m the only one up and dressed at this hour. I give him a smile, expecting a barrage of his standard cheerful chattiness, but he barely says hello. I guess he’s aware of what today is too.

I can tell Marc is doing his best to be glad for his younger siblings, but he’s clearly not happy that we didn’t upgrade him to the new version of the implant and cloud first. Louise, Evan, and I talked about it, but Marc can still barely handle the training wheels version of the cloud. Plus, pulling out the old version of the implant that Marc has in his head is a much harder process than just installing the new one. Louise wasn’t ready to take responsibility for what could go wrong either in the operation or after we gave him the godlike powers Father gave us, so his upgrade is on hold indefinitely.

So, Stan is getting the install that Marc wishes he could have, and if that goes well we’ll get started on the rest of the Geologists. We’re going to use a more relaxed schedule for them than Father did for us. A couple of weeks to get acclimated with just the console after the surgery, then start the calibrations for the bots. We’ll still do the training wheels version of the bots first, it would be way too risky otherwise. With the full version, carelessness could get you or others hurt or killed much too easily. Also, it’ll give us a chance to observe and weed out people that shouldn’t get the final version. Not that I expect any of that this time around, I don’t think their class has any Jeffs or Marcs. The Geologists seem like a pretty good group, maybe Father worked out the worst of his bad parenting on his first cohort.

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I pass the darkened Residence on my way to the Research Center. I’ve been tempted lately to move in there now that it’s mostly empty. It would be nice to have my own little suite there. And I wouldn’t mind having a room closer to Father’s office—no, my office—so I can focus more on the work and avoid the distractions that are always around in the dorms. But I just don’t feel like I deserve that. Good things are for good people, and that’s not me. Besides, I don’t want my sibs thinking that I’m trying to take Father’s place as the new head of this family cult that he built.

I've still got a few hours to go before Stan's surgery, so I check my to-do list as I stop by the cafeteria to grab a bagel that I can eat at my desk. One of the cafeteria workers gives me a smile as she hands one to me that feels like it’s fresh out of the oven. Her entry in my index pops up as the facial recognition triggers for her. Vanessa Reyes. She’s been here since before I got to the campus a little over a year ago, one of the few that stuck around after finding out that there’s no more chance of getting set for life in the Butler baby lottery. On the upside, the food has improved a lot since we started staffing more for job skills than for looks and genetic potential.

I take another bite as I walk into my office. The place is still cluttered with all of Father's old stuff. I really should take some time to get it cleaned out and organized, but it's been a non-stop sprint for the last few months since his death.

The massive whiteboard wall with the master plan has as much of my handwriting as his on it now. The contours of the plan are still largely his, but a lot of the details are mine. And of course the timing on a lot of things changed when I took over. We. When we took over. I don't want to fall into his trap of thinking this is all about me.

Following my instructions to myself on the small whiteboard near my desk, I check the screen I had installed to track Chad's progress and status as I chew on my dry bagel. Big swaths of Eastern Africa are showing green now on the map there, indicating that they now have access to clean water and solar power from his installations. The messages from his local coordinators, Keeya and Lucie, show he's working his way through Tanzania this week. He's upped his game and is hitting twelve sites a day now. We're going to need to hire more ground support staff for him if he bumps this up any further. We don't want to have him fly in superhero-style to a town that's not prepared for him. I can just imagine how well that would go over.

Hi, I'm the man from the sky here to give you a better life with my magic. Don't worry though, it's free, I promise.

I shake my head. Another dozen ground agents and coordinators should make sure we hit all the remote villages weeks before Chad arrives. And we need to expand the PR team. And finish reorganizing the legal team. And I’m sure there’s more staff but I don’t feel like pulling up org charts right now.

I feel a twinge of jealousy thinking of doing something like Chad gets to, but none of my siblings are interested or capable of doing the administrative stuff that I've been swamped with for a year, and without someone handling that, the whole operation falls apart. Who wants to trade emails with ambassadors and play with spreadsheets all day when you can be a superhero? I keep trying to find someone that can help lighten the load, but I haven't found anyone I feel comfortable hiring for it yet.

I sigh and get to work.