"They'll provide answers to questions about our world and why we're doing what we're doing. Have I misunderstood something about how this is going to work?"

"Librarians here usually don't manage websites. And yours won't even know how to type. And you haven't previously given the impression that a major part of your workflow is briefing librarians about what you're doing and why. What I was envisioning was that we'd subcontract a website management service for all the site organization and coding, and you'd pick someone or several someones who are close to your operations to compose - with our help - answers to the public's questions and spins on your relevant current events."

"Yes," he nods. "And for the parts of that that are - factual questions, questions about standing church policy, history, that sort of thing, the librarians will be useful at finding information for people - yours or mine - to word correctly. I'm worried right now about overburdening the more active parts of my church or my supply of experienced clerics, especially, so I'd like to have the less vital sorts of workers handle what they can even if it's not a perfect fit or the most efficient way for us."

"Okay, that makes sense. You can have separate content providers for static versus emerging topics."

"Good. It'll just be a minute, for the scribes."

The clerics wait patiently. After a few seconds, Raafi speaks up. "Oh, sir, I should probably mention that - maybe you can help, actually," he directs at the PR people. "I got an email this morning that I didn't understand very well, something about insurance for my healing? The person I have helping with my email thought it was important enough to make sure I saw it, but I'm not sure why." He gets out his phone and starts looking for the email in question.

"You don't have - of course you don't. You should carry malpractice insurance, yes. Can I see?" asks Skip.

He hands it over.

"Doug, look up this company for me - see if they're sketchy - if they're not they're probably all raring to sign you on and it'll be easier than getting someone else to do the work for the irregularity -"

"They look normal to me," reports Doug. "I mean, apart from the acupuncture love affair. But the insurance itself should be legit."

   Pelor makes a slightly horrified face at the word 'acupuncture'.

"Will you handle that, or should I contact them myself?"

"Ramona can help you as part of her shadowing. All the clerics doing healing here will individually need insurance unless you can get this outfit to insure the lot of you as a group. Which if I were them I wouldn't do, you'll have correlated risks, but maybe their actuaries are very optimistic," says Skip.

"Do you want me to reply from your email or contact them myself?" says Ramona.

"I'd rather not take emails for Pelor's church."

A second instance of Pelor appears quietly in the corner, holding hands with two of a group of three older adolescents in ink-spattered grey tunics with sun-ray motifs on the sleeves. They find seats, and the extra Pelor disappears again.

"- how old are they?" asks Skip.

"Sixteen, sir."

    "Seventeen."

        "A hundred and twelve."

"...we have child labor laws. Dave, look those up."

"They won't be written for a hundred and twelve year old," says the guy who was talking about statelessness.

"Yes, I know, but for the humans."

"Is this going to be an immediate problem?"

"I'm sure there is a way to have a sixteen year old work for you but it's possible you have to be related to them, or not pay them - do you pay them -"

    "We get a stipend, sir, but it's not related to our work."

"They're more like students than apprentices, if that helps you figure it out."

"I'll find the work study law," says Dave.

"How does that work here in general? We don't consider sixteen-year-old humans children."

"It's eighteen unless they go through a formal process about it here," says Skip.

"You can have interns as young as fourteen in arbitrary industry if you have a permit which certifies you're competent to supervise the kids and keep them out of dangerous or inappropriate stuff, get the written permission of their parents or guardians, and avoid interfering with their educations," reports Dave.

"Okay, what that's gonna boil down to is you call them interns and never call them employees or staff," says Skip, "you better not be getting any complaints from their families unless you want to litigate whether the family is abusive or something for two weeks in front of billions, and if they get hurt in their capacity as your interns it had better look like a freak accident and not like you leaving them alone with creepy predators or having them operate machinery or do unlicensed summoning."

    "-we live in a temple of Pelor, sir."

"It's all right, Tad, I'll explain later."

"You gotta keep all the 'but it's this specific individual god, end of argument' stuff out of your public messaging," says Skip. "Carries no cachet. If I went to your world and said 'I went to Limbo and left my kid with a total stranger I only know based on a TV show I have not even myself personally watched, but it's okay, it's Mister Rogers', would you think this sounded really responsible?"

"I might want to look into it. I do understand your point, I just haven't explained the situation to them and almost anyone from my world will be very confused if you treat me or my church as potentially dangerous at all if it hasn't been explained." He turns to the scribes. "They hadn't heard of gods at all before a few days ago. We're trying to figure out how to best explain ourselves to the people here. And I need you to pay close attention so that you can explain the plan to the clerics and librarians."

This gets a round of nods, and the scribes settle in to listen.