We spent a lot of the intervening time between when we took the quiz and when we got contacted chatting about what kinds of things people answered, although more than a couple of times, people got prudish and told us to keep such chatter off Slack, so we just took it to Discord voice off the company servers. It's pretty remarkable how fast gossip travels around a company when people are stuck at home without much else to do.
It was around that point that we also got word that some of the people who had 'disappeared' from our Slack channel had died in the hospital. It wasn't official news, but the amount of detail that was in the rumors made it all completely convincing. And with that, we all agreed we were going to abide by whatever recommendations were given towards keeping ourselves out of the line of fire of the viruses.
Oh hey! Now that I think about it, I saved a bunch of screenshots of that quiz to my Dropbox, so I can dig those up for you if you want. We couldn't cut and paste them, so I couldn't get the whole thing, but I took a lot of screen caps just because we needed something to talk about, and I think I wanted to document some of what we were going through, so I knew I wasn't going crazy.
About a week later, I got an email telling me that I was in what was being called the "high likelihood candidates" pool. That meant I should pack up a single suitcase with anything I thought I would need if I was being moved to live with someone else. Anything that didn't fit into a suitcase could be picked up later, once the pandemic had subsided. The email detailed that I wouldn't need to worry about paying rent once I'd relocated - any address that was tied to a relocated person would be immune to eviction until after the crisis had passed. There was no day associated with my possible relocation, but they were expecting I would hear about the transfer within a few days. They had my cell phone number and would call to give me a few hours' notice if and when I was selected.
As crazy as it all was, I started packing.
There wasn't all that much that I really needed to have with me at any given moment, but I realized that if what the reports were saying was true, I was likely going to be sharing a bed and being intimate with whoever I was going to be assigned to, and I have to tell you, Fi, at that point, I think I would've happily fucked a dudebro with a man bun, I was so worked up. The batteries in my vibrator had died weeks ago, and I'd already used every spare in the house to try and get a little bit more of a buzz going. I'd even resorted to sitting on top of my washing machine to get a little fix here and there.
It's remarkable how little I really needed to bring with me - most of my life was inside my laptop that I'd been hauling with me everywhere since college, or the iPad that I used as a digital sketchbook most of the time. I had a handful of physical sketchbooks that went into the suitcase, a bunch of cute outfits, a couple of things that I thought were fun larks and pretty much every good piece of lingerie I owned.
On June 17
th
, I got the call. Someone would be coming by in the evening to pick me up and relay me over to the inoculation center. The truck showed up and the man at the door was wearing a complete hazmat suit, his air entirely self-contained. I was one of two dozen gorgeous women being loaded onto the truck, and I remember how odd I thought it was that none of
us
were being separated or given our own individual air. There was an airman in the back who was also wearing a hazmat suit in addition to her very fashionable M4. "Why aren't we isolated?" I asked her, having to yell a bit over the rush of wind from the open back of the troop transport truck.
"Once you get the vaccine in you, it should knock out pretty much anything in your systems, so the idea is to get it into you, and get you paired up with your partners as quickly as you can, for your safety and theirs," she yelled back.
"How come you aren't paired with anyone yet?"
She shrugged a bit, almost dejectedly. "Number's not up yet."
I didn't recognize it at the time, but the inoculation center was a staging area over at the Pleasanton Fairgrounds, where they'd set up several giant tents. It's only about fifteen minutes away from here, and I guess they didn't feel safe bringing loads of people onto the base at New Eden at that point in the process. Within a matter of months, they'd have a much more permanent structure set up at the New Eden base for injections. They called the place Base Aphrodite because I guess somebody thought it was funny.
I'd also heard that they were going to convert some of the high-rise towers into staging areas, but I guess for the first wave or whatever, they wanted to have all of us nearby enough that they could keep tabs and make sure nothing crazy happened with any of us.
They put each of us into our own little vacuum sealed tent with recycled air and started coming for us one at a time to give us our shots. Back when we were doing it, it was two shots, one given in each arm, but based on what everyone's said since then, that must've just been for the first wave or so, because I think every other girl in the house other than me and Lauren, said it was just one single shot.
The woman who gave me the shot was a nice, charming woman, although there were several men walking around the area, talking about us as we waited our turn. I remember asking the woman when she dosed me if it was safe for those men to be walking around, and she told me they'd already been vaccinated, and were completely safe from whatever we'd bring in. We were all dosed before 7 pm, and they wanted us to sleep on it, to make sure that it took properly and didn't have any extreme reactions. There was only one of those that I saw, and I still don't know what really happened to her, but one girl down about five chambers woke up thrashing in the middle of the night and was escorted out by people in hazmat suits. In the morning, they told us she'd just had a 'reaction' to the serum, and that she needed to be brought to her partner immediately. You should ask Phil about that, I bet he'd know what happened.
Anyway, it was a little like camping, just in an oxygen tent with a hundred or so other women, but in the morning, we were brought food and given a checkup each before we were taken out of our tents and loaded back up onto a military truck and driven down south to Milpitas, where the Air Force had commandeered this Hilton hotel, just off 680 and Calaveras Blvd. We were assigned rooms and told to wait in our hotel rooms before someone would come and talk to us about our options. Room service would be left outside of our doors, and we weren't to leave the hotel room for any reason other than to talk to someone from the Air Force when they came to see us.
The whole "hurry up and wait" drove me a bit mad, not gonna lie, because I had an entire day and a half in that hotel room before anyone called me to come and talk to them. It was a big hotel room, though, with a little living room area, so at least I had space to walk around, and the Wi-Fi was solid, so I could call my family and let them know what was going on. The evening of the 19
th
, the phone in my room rang and I was told to come down to a conference room to discuss my options.
When I got down to the room, there were three people sitting behind a desk, none of whom I've seen since. One was an African American woman in her mid-forties who looked as all business as possible. One was a blonde woman in her thirties in official Air Force dress attire whose nameplate read Harris. And the guy sitting between them looked like he was in his mid-fifties, with a receding hair line, oval shaped glasses and a thick bushy white mustache on his top lip that made him look more like a college professor than anyone I'd ever seen in my entire life. He was even wearing a cardigan sweater over a white-collar shirt.
"Miss Aisling Blake, am I correct?" he said, standing up and bowing, as if to discourage me from trying to shake his hand. "I'm Dr. Bill McKenna, one of the people working on this project. This is Major Harris and Dr. Winters, who're here to ensure you get an option that you're happy with. How are you feeling? Be honest. I'm a doctor."
"Honestly, Doc? I'm horny as all hell," I admitted to him. "Like, hard to think horny."
He nodded at me without so much as seeming even a little surprised. "That's going to happen. One of the side effects of the serum is an increased libido, but it also has the benefit of increasing the intensity of orgasms, so, y'know, balance, I suppose." He had a tendency to draw out each word, making them all sound massively considered, like he was selecting them with precision. "So we've brought you here because we have twenty men who would fit your preferences based on your quiz and theirs. Now, we didn't want to overwhelm you with too much data, so we've tried to distill them down to a handful of things you marked as 'most important' that matched up with theirs. Why don't you take a look through them and see if you find anyone you like?"
There were four sheets of paper, each with five pictures and a handful of things about each of the men on it. Andy's picture was on the third sheet, and he had such an easy way about him in the picture that it made me stop and look a little. He wasn't what I would've described as my type immediately, but in reading the details, it seemed like we meshed on all the important things - he had sexual tendencies that ran parallel to my own, with dirty talk at the top of things that were biggest turn ons, but he also seemed like the kind of man I'd want to spend a lot of time with, with interests in music, film, art and literature. I could see other men that I thought were more physically attractive than Andy or were people that I knew who they were - can you believe Elon Musk thought he and I would be a good fit? - but I kept coming back to the answers Andy had given and felt like he would be the best choice. There weren't any names on the page, so at that point, I didn't even know his name.
