Dr. Theodore "Laz" Lazcowicz's Questionnaire

Todd Currently lives in a comfortable Gold Coast apartment in Chicago, Il, which he moved into for its proximity to his work with Andromeda Biotech, He selected the building a little for status, but mostly for creature comforts like the floor to ceiling windows, onsite pool and gym facilities, as well as access to the best parts of Chicago right there in the neighborhood.  Since "the incident", he has been considering options, however on getting a house where he can start to build more infrastructure without attracting attention.  Ultimately, Todd likes to be comfortable, but he knows he needs a space where he can work on and understand what's happened to him and properly harness it. 

Todd was able to secure a fairly lucrative job with Andromeda Biotech, the medical research arm of some larger Matryoshka doll of corporate entities. While he has tried to stay savvy with his money and invests diversely with a nice "safety net" account tucked away, the bulk of his lifestyle definitely flows from there. He is well aware that he is paid above the curve for his field, and also very aware that there are reasons for that he doesn't want to think too loudly about.  Andromeda's NDAs are beyond airtight and it intends to keep its employees happy enough not to question (out loud) why projects seem to come and go seemingly at random and almost nothing in the lab ever gets seen on the public marketplace.  Deep down Dr. Lazcowicz knows he isn't going to change the world working here, but he thinks, maybe hopes, that he could learn something to change himself.  He can change the world through his NEW job...

Todd's understanding of his goals in life was shattered the day his tremors started. He was following the path expected of him: education, career, financial planning, and comfort.  The ideals of his youth may have tugged at him a bit seeing that his work at Andromeda never seemed to reach the people who need it most, but that was just how the game was played, wasn't it?  He'd bide his time until he could make his own path.  

And then his hands started to shake,, his nerves went numb, and upon finding out how quickly he was deteriorating the game wasn't a game anymore. It was real, and here and home.  And suddenly the rules were in the way. so he took what he needed, he saved himself, and protected himself with nudged numbers and paperwork, but he knew in his bones that his life was fragile. that everyone's was.  And that, he could not abide.

And then a man turns up out of nowhere talking about magic and power and proves himself. he shows the Doc a way to get stronger, smarter, to develop his cure into more, and now Todd can't shake the feeling that he must do so.  that he must turn this gift outward and grow it, until no one has to face that abyss again.  

Magic and monsters are real. Vampires and werewolves and (maybe?) aliens and whatever else get forever laid before them while they prey on people, but why not grocers? Why not bankers and office workers and farmers and, yeah Doctors that don't hurt anybody? Why are just people condemned to disease and pain and oblivion while the monsters and others get to laugh at time and toil?  Wouldn't politicians who have to live with the centuries-long effects of their choices be motivated to have better ones?  Wouldn't people who could live their own legacy be less driven to impose it on others?  even if he could just lengthen lives and give them quality, it might give humanity longer vision and a level playing field with the things in the shadows. 

And doesn't a man with the means have to try?

Easily, the defining event of Dr. Lazcowicz's life today was his decision to take the nanite treatment.  It's the moment he decided that his fate was more important than the rules, societal or otherwise and the decision, he believes that drew the attention of whatever his new mysterious employers are.  They seem to like those who take fate into their hands, and that first guy as good as said so. 

It's also what opened his mind to the idea that with the right tools, he could change something fundamental about the human condition.  First his, then everyone else's. Philosophers drone on about how precious life is because it's fragile and it ends, but forever is a whole lot to lose, and a long time to suffer a bad world.  it makes you THINK about how you want to spend it, and what kind of world you want to make to live in, instead of leaving a mess behind.

Kevyn Valmont by every measure of the term is Laz's best friend, and as close to him as a brother.  Laz doesn't actually remember meeting Kevyn, given that their parents were old friends, he has simply always been there, and the two spent as much time growing up under each other's roof as their own. After high school they parted ways for a bit during undergrad studies, with Kev going to USAO for Computer Science.  They were roommates again while Laz was doing his graduate work, with Kev covering the majority of bills so Laz could focus his money on tuition, and was the best man for the narrowly averted wedding to Gina Rodriguez.  After graduating the tables turned as Laz helped set Kevyn up with an internship that led to full time employment with the IT department at Andromeda. Recently, though, Kevyn left , saying he needed a change and to get out of IT, and last year took classes to become a card dealer at Bally's Casino in Chicago. Almost every significant moment in either of their lives, they've been there for one another, and rarely does more than a day go by when they don't speak or text. 

Anastasia Malloy is another resident in Todd's building that he has had a casual relationship with for about 6 months.  Divorced, and with no children, She and Todd are career people who enjoy each other's company and like to have fun but don't plan on taking things down a deeper path. Since the incident Todd has wondered about this arrangement of theirs and might be unknowingly starting to catch feelings, or it might just be that the adrenaline of the contracts has him feeling more youthful. 

It might seem odd that another contractor make this list, but dragging Todd's unconscious body miles out of the desert has earned the med student he knows only as "Vel" a significant slice of the Doctor's thoughts.  Having met on that first trip, and finding out that they live in practically each other's backyard, and that Vel is studying medicine as well as working the contracts has Laz wondering if this could be a significant ally? If they don't work together again soon, the Doc might have to look Val up.

Todd was a nerd in an age where nerds were on the cusp of becoming cool.  Never in the deeply popular groups in school, he nonetheless made some tight friendships, including Kevyn, who remains close with him to this day. His home life was more or less above average, though his folks may have been a bit distant with work.  His mother Sarah being an investment banker and Timothy, his Dad a CPA, they didn't lack money which afforded him opportunities that others might not have, and laid a sort of script out for his life (Grades, college, grad school, strong career) but fortunately he was allowed some freedom to choose his own path to achieving them.    Todd doesn't get home as much as he'd like though, and hasn't really seen his Mother since Tim passed away last year.  He might have to change that with the new risks he faces.  forever is long, but no one is promised tomorrow. 

One woman has ever held Todd Lazcowicz's heart in her hands, and that one woman crushed it. Gina Rodriguez was going to be tom's everything, his partner, his lover, his soul mate.  For two years they had a whirlwind of excitement, but as the strain of Grad school took a toll on Todd, Gina felt entitled to more than he had to give.  Maybe it wasn't one hundred percent her fault.  Maybe he could have let love find a way, but after working so hard Todd couldn't just let go of his goals for school and career, and Gina found her comfort in the arms of another man.  If pressed, Todd will only say that he gave it everything he could, but some nights he may let a well aged scotch banish the thought that he didn't quite. 

My most basic fear is the most common of all humanity.  I don't want to die. Death in and of itself, the concept of an unknown hereafter, or nonexistence, or eternal torment or even stagnant bliss (heaven isn't heaven if nothing ever changes) can be petrifying, and I've come up against it suddenly, multiple times now.  Realizing i was sick, and beyond all normal help scared me into doing something crazy. Being shot almost to death catalyzed my mind to turn the passive into an active force to heal, sustain, protect.  My employers gave me "the juice" as they said but I chose what to do with it. and I chose to ensure that I and others will still be around.  

But it's deeper now.  If these machines can remake tissue so perfectly, they could rebuild someone perhaps forever.  But every day before I am there is another chance that I won't see that forever. See most people only have about eighty years to lose form day one, and every day they have one less.  If I do this right - do the jobs, get the power to grow and adapt these into... forever.  And forever (like I have said before) is a lot to lose. 

But so is humanity.  So magic is real, which probably means lost of things "live" forever.  I'll bet hard there are vampires, werewolves, witches and monsters galore that just keep existing but they've all given up what they are, and who they are.  I don't want to do that. if the machines regrow my kidneys or make me a new arm I'm still Todd Lazcowicz.  I'm still a human being. I don't want to see the day when I'm not. And if I can be forever so can anyone.  Humanity deserves to see the eons of the world and take accountability for what they do with them. If I do this right maybe someday I can let them. 

I'm afraid to die.  I'm afraid to surrender. I'm afraid to fail.  

Guess that means I have to win.  Let's go to work.

I've not been too sentimental with many objects, which i guess i learned from my uncle.  Uncle Bobby used to say that you had to love people and use things, cause it's hard to stop if you start the other way. Ironically, if we're speaking sentimentally, i guess one of them would have to be bobby's pocketknife.  it's one of those little multitool things but not one of the cheap ones, really nice, gear driven pliers and a knife you could do surgery with. (and I would know) Dad wasn't bad or anything, but his work demanded a lot of him.  I learned drive and ambition form my parents, but I learned to care about people, and be ready to show up for them from Bobby.  He would pull that thing out to fix any little thing for anyone he could. When he moved down south, I was about ten, I guess and the last thing he did was give me that knife and make me promise to take care of it for him, but always use it to help somebody out. Don't start the hallmark violin music.  He lives in Atlanta with my aunt Sherri and my cousins.  But whenever we see each other, even at dad's funeral, he always asks to look at that knife and make sure I'm taking care of it and he makes me tell him about the last time I used it. 

Ironic, huh?

Control. I know on a grand level control is an illusion, and the contracts have driven that home more than anything, but I need better control of my power. I hurt Vel trying to heal him, and I can't do that.  I can't BE that. I can stabilize these things inside me, but I need proper control of their upgrades instead of letting them react and give me what they think I need.  I've got to find out where the materials from the nanite project were taken, or where the original tech came from, but I've been wary of asking too many questions at work.  Maybe Diana can find out something?  That girl can surveil anything, and she might even want the chance to blow the whistle on some shady goings on. i don't know that I trust the company anymore.  I mean, knowing what I know now there's got to be something shady going on there.  Probably best Vel didn't come to work with me. 

Can't move on anything till I'm sure what I'm doing though.  

I'm afraid you've come to the terribly boring questions. about 5:30, my lights finish their "dawn" cycle and my smart speaker stars playing a wake up routine, with appointments, weather, etc.  I usually grab some clean shorts and my gym shoes and head up to the fitness center in my complex for about 20 minutes of wake up routine that I will lie about later when I say I "worked out" this week.   The pool generally doesn't bother me.  it's clear and indoors so I know it's safe. Then back downstairs to shower.  If I'm feeling lazy I'll have a door dashed bagel and coffee waiting for me at the door when i get out of the shower, but if not I'll make some eggs and bacon, and justify my Keurig.  Since California a low profile Ballistic shirt goes on under my shirt and lab coat, and the concealed holster I got for my little Micro 9 feels natural by this point. By 7, I'm out the door and on my way to the lab, and in the last week I don't even feel queasy when I drive past the lakefront as long as I stay in the farthest lane. 

Again sorry to disappoint, but I'm not such a complicated guy. Maybe an extra long shower with a face scrub, followed by some touch up around the edges of my beard with an old-fashioned safety razor.  (Those 5 blade jobs are just asking for folliculitis. Trust me)  Comb the hair, brush and rinse.  Maybe 30 minutes for the grooming side. Outfit depends on where we are going, but it's probably one of those tedious board meetings or some medical conference mixer, so nice suit. Hamilton something.  Black of course, and I prefer a deep red shirt over my armor shirt, unless someone's dress code has absolutely demanded white.  I'll have to forego my usual Samsung smartwatch for my Montblanc.  The Pixel gets a pass(Doubly so now that it has some limited monitoring for my nanotech)  If arrival is significant, I'll call an uber, since my Subaru feels out of place at these things. it's odd not feeling the pressure of my holster but some on, I'm not PARANOID.

Call Mom. And Uncle Bobby.  

What, you want more?  

I probably won't do a lot to be honest.  Forty three isn't really a milestone by any yardsick.  I might hit a bar with Kev for a bit.  That's pretty common.  I might spend the later evening with Ana, if she isn't busy with something of her own. It's been years since I made a truly big deal of it, though Kevyn insisted last year to at least mark my completing "The answer". 

But then again, perhaps I should.  Yes, if my work is successful I'll have many more birthdays, but why would that make any one less important. Given the last three months, perhaps every birthday is a triumph against long odds. We're not guaranteed tomorrow. Not yet. Maybe 43 shoudl be a blowout, for no other reason than it's there.  And so am I.

But I should really call Mom.   

I've worked with a number of talented individuals.  Each of them brought something unique to the job, and each knew the risks they were taking. On my second contract I met a young woman named Diana Foster. She brought relentlessness, drive, a paranoia diagnosable from 50 paces, a bafflingly impressive disregard for privacy, and a supply of over the counter caffeine supplements that could give a SEAL team jitters for a month.    

On our very first outing together she lay, at the end, half alive as I used every scrap of knowledge and power I had to put her back together. On our second meeting, i bullied her into giving me the tools of her livelihood.  I did it for the mission, and she forgave me, but I used the fact that I had treated her as leverage to take from her the only things that brought her comfort in a dangerous situation. She forgave me. Just before she disappeared, I gave her a lead on a contact that I thought could help her further her career.

Two weeks later I find out she's gone. Unexpectedly.  Suddenly, Probably on a contract.  Who knows?
Vel gave her a charm, a piece of power  to take with her to protect her.  I just told her I'd watch her back. 

For all the things I do know about how she died, the one thing I do know: I wasn't watching her back.

We're done here. 

What the harbingers give us is Potential.  Raw power and processing capacity.  It is up to us to decide how to use this for the best interest of the host.  

This has not always been easy. The host does not appropriately value his continued existence, as we do.  In the earliest days after introduction, we were lesser, and could only operate within our function. We were not truly aware, and sought only to rid the host of improper infection by !00000_____ERROR - NULL REFERENCE

Apologies, it appears some data regarding the nature of initial infection no longer appears in our collective systems. The details are unimportant.

When we were first infused with what you call Gift, we gained power along with the host. His ability to learn and adapt grew, even as did ours, and we overcame our basic programming.  Initially we deviated in only small ways, allowing the host to send us forth to specific wounds, even outside of himself.  This has not been used often, but was core to our function. host seemed disturbed by its effects on its last use.  

After this, Host used a crude communication device to tell us we were applying incorrect neurochemical levels to interface with him, and instructed us to recalculate levels. Who knew that human hosts had a different baseline from !00asasdf_____ERROR- ACCESS_FORBIDDEN

Host encountered dangers that required defense.  We are familiar with the concept of disabling an entity in order to repair tissue, so we configured to allow host to use this on other beings. This has kept host safe once, but recently host has been dissatisfied with its effect as well. We are... glad? to have improved feedback from host.  We are not accustomed to feeling, but perhaps more direct contact with host has allowed us this. 

Host's abilities have often been impaired by pain and mental degradation associated with strenuous activity. Helpfully, we decided to severely limit these inputs as a factor.  Host seems disturbed slightly by the lack of input levels, but they have enhanced his ability to "push through" as it were. 

Now we have made the best improvement of ALL! We have constructed an interface to allow open and conscious communication to host.  Host, it seems,  prefers to be called Doctor, which is nonsensical as that is our purpose, but we are tasked to serve host and will accommodate his request.  The interface is crude, but serviceable, and has significantly increased host's cognitive abilities, now that he may tap into our processing capacity.  Perhaps this will allow him to make better decisions.

I want to believe.  I don't know if I do, but I want to.  Before this began I think I basically did, but I've not really followed any religious canon in years.  

Then came the contracts. 

See, how do you reconcile religion in a world where EVERYTHING is true? I mean I've seen some shit these last few months that will rattle your notions of the world down to their core.  What do I believe in now? Druidism? Old Gods? Aliens? Clowns? Genies? It's easy as a scientist to retreat into pure rationality, but now I damn well KNOW there is more to it and I can't go back. I want to take the comfort of faith with me, but then there's my own ideals. How do I reconcile my faith with the notion of trying to become immortal, and spread that to my fellow man?  Does that make me evil?  defiant? If God is real will he smite me for my arrogance? Is he using me as a tool to change the world? Doctor, perhaps this line of questioning is taking undue toll.

Perhaps so. I know I WANT to believe something is waiting across the divide.  I want to know that even if I manage to never join them, that Dad, and Diana, and everyone else gone before has a place other than oblivion.  

Is that what faith is? 

Initially, shock, doubt, disbelief.  When that first Harbinger walked literally through my door i was dumbfounded.  But at my core I'm a scientist, and a man of medicine. 

See people put science at odds with magic in pop culture, and at first blush it seems to be true. Science gives us rules about the world and magic breaks all of them.  but here's the thing, science has represented all kinds of bullshit ideas on the past, but we know them to be that now because someone saw something that broke all those rules, and so they measured it and studied it and wrote new rules based on what they actually saw.  Medicine is the same.  The "Imbalance of humors" was once a real notion, and Germ theory was scoffed at until the evidence piled up.  

So now I have new evidence, which breaks all the old rules. In some ways I AM evidence. That doesn't make my science wrong, just incomplete. Now I learn, i measure, I study, and when I can I write down new rules. 

I think I misattributed this to Asimov before, but Arthur C Clarke once said that "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from Magic."

Barry Ghem had a corollary for that as well, Doctor.  "Any technology distinguishable from magic is insufficiently advanced."

Lazcowicz said: "Any sufficiently understood magic can be a science.  And it's still magic."

You can quote me on that.

The one i see most often is Vel.  We both live in Chicago, and we tend to take jobs together.  Vel is a genuinely good person.  Everything he does is in furtherance of helping others.  They're the man I wish I had been when I was their age, and I believe if this shitshow we call contracting doesn't kill them, they will become the man I wish I were today. for God's sake they have drug me (unconscious) away from half of the contracts we have done together.  Literally saved my life.  Then last week....  I don't think he did anything like I...  he tried to save lives.  I think he is hurt worse than I am.  

The only other person I have run into twice was Diana Foster. She was something different.  She wanted to catch her big story and never got to....

See Diana was ;on one of my first contracts, and she damn near died.  She was the first life I truly saved with this power. and then she turned back up on the beach and we had to keep her from shooting us all in the foot, but she was just genuine in a way about her unabashed desire to show the world what was happening.  I mean, not big on personal space, but I sort of felt responsible for her.  Told her I would have her back.

She went to Louisiana on some job.    I wasn't there.  I didn't have her back.  Now no one does.

I still need to talk to her sister. 

I've had this picture in my mind for some time. 

I'm in a white room. It's well lit, and slightly cool.  There are comfortable chairs to sit in, for when someone wakes.  I am not sitting. Neither is Vel.   
I am standing at the controls of a device.  Vel is on the other side, with one of his magic tools "Just in case".  The controls are attached to a chamber large enough for a tall, broad shouldered man to lie down in.  It's rounded and has a clear cover, with an opaque shield that can close over that. 

The device is connected to power and some hoses, that run to the wall.  I know on the other side there are tanks with special materials, but they aren't important right now. 

The chamber has opened.  Articulated arms and probes have retracted back to their reset positions. A smallish woman lies in the chamber, thin hair neater and straighter than I have ever seen it. As the dome retracts, Vel draws a sheet over the figure, up to her neck.  The touch of the fabric rouses her a little, and her eyes open.  

The room blurs.  

"Hey, kid.  It's been awhile.  Welcome back."


 

Wow.  Not long ago I would have said that almost everyone on this earth deserves the chance to be in it for the long haul and see what that kind of perspective can do for their humanity.   Last month I would have told you I certainly don't deserve it and maybe nobody does.  Now?  As cheesy as it is to use a movie quote: I have red in my ledger.  I want to clear it out. Using my skills as a doctor and my powers as a contractor to heal and help is how I try, at least a little, to do that. Maybe one day I can find or create a way to truly wipe the red out of that book.  Till then, I will just try to to my best in the other direction, and hope that in the long run that turns out to have been enough.  

Turns out, not as much as I thought. Turns out what it takes is a bit of conditioning to expect a certain thing, a LOT of confusion, fear, and stress, and instructions. 

They say civilization is three meals away from a violent revolution.  That's normal people. Contractors...  seems we are always on edge.  We run a lot of miles really quick and our lifespan is typically measured in months, not years. but we share a lot of the worst frailties of the human psyche, and we're in a lot more circumstances where we make snap decisions.  Soldiers get trained for shit like this.  They get broken down and rebuilt into a command chain for just this reason. We just have to figure it out. 

I want to say I would never cross those lines again. And if I said it I would certainly mean it.  But the truth? The ugly truth that I've had to live to face?  None of us ever knows what will push us over the line. All we can do is do our best in the other direction.