[center][b]A Strange Kind of Cure
By: VeronicaFoxx
For: Juantiller[/b][/center]

With everything that had been happening over the past year, and even a little further back, getting an opportunity to make ten grand wasn't something to sneer at.  Juan had lost his job, nearly lost his apartment, and been confined inside doing anything and everything that he could find to make enough cash for rent.  His landlord had been wonderfully patient about late payments but still demanded the rent in full.  Juan was already two months behind, and a third month was looking to be added to the total, which would come due as soon as the quarantine ended.  Once [i]that[/i] happened, he [i]would[/i] lose his apartment, and that was a terrifying thought.  Without a place to stay, there was no way he'd ever get another job, and government assistance was by no means assured with the way things were looking, though there was some hope on that end.  Still, hope was never going to win against a sure thing.  The email seemed far too good to be true, but he'd looked into it anyways.  The company seemed to be legitimate, a biomedical and pharmaceutical firm, and the offer of ten thousand dollars was far too alluring.  Being someone's guinea pig for a vaccine was worth it, especially considering that they promised full medical coverage and treatment on their own dime during and after for up to two years.  And it didn't hurt that he'd be able to feel like he was part of the solution to this terrible crisis, sort of a hero if not necessarily the one who'd actually developed the vaccine.  A martyr for the cause, though hopefully not an actual martyr.

He'd done as much research as he could, which was a little limited when he couldn't afford to get through paywalls for some of the better sites, and Chimera Medical Corporate Research seemed to be legitimate.  He couldn't find any complaints or lawsuits against them, and even the LinkedIn profiles he could find for employees gave glowing reviews.  If he'd been qualified for any of the job postings above janitorial and secretarial staff, he would have applied, but none of the ones that he [i]was[/i] qualified for were hiring.  Everything else required a doctorate of some sort, which was rather impressive.  Even the managerial staff he'd found were doctors of one kind or another.  Everything seemed to be completely above board as far as he could tell.  So he gave them a call.

Aside from a quick health survey, it was a little different than he'd expected.  They asked what kind of entertainment he liked, if he preferred PC gaming or console, what kind of movies he liked, what genres of books he preferred.  He'd answered, but then had to ask why they wanted to know.  And that made things a little more iffy, though he supposed it made sense.  He'd be locked in individual quarantine at their facility during the trial.  He'd be basically alone, though with internet access, and only be visited by doctors and nurses until everything was settled.  He wouldn't be allowed to give any information on the trial to anyone on the outside, his communication would be heavily monitored, and he would have to sign an NDA just to get into the building.  It made him squirm inside, but in the end he agreed to a more in-depth phone interview.  The lure of money was too good to pass up.  Like most of the working poor in his country, he was barely able to keep himself afloat at the best of times, and he had debts that needed paying as well as clearing his current rent and bills.  The call came the very next day and included more grilling about things that he liked: his favorite foods, the kind of clothes he liked to wear when relaxing alone, if he had any close companions, if he had any pets, what family he still had alive, and even his sexual preferences.  He hadn't really understood why they wanted that last part, but he'd answered with building hope, and he'd been accepted at the end.

Again, the very next day, only the second since his initial call, he got an email with a scheduled driver to take him to the airport and flight out to their facility on a [i]private[/i] jet.  He had a week to settle his affairs, and did so as quickly as possible, letting everyone know what he was doing and assuring his landlord that he'd pay what he owed.  He cancelled all his subscriptions, his utilities, and packed what few things he thought he'd need to bring with him since Chimera seemed to want to provide just about everything else.  Then there was nothing left but to wait.  The drive was uneventful, the flight was [i]very[/i] nice with included alcohol and a lush meal, and then another drive out to the facility.  It was a campus like what he'd heard Microsoft used, with lots of large buildings, wide lawns, tons of trees, solar panel farms, and people riding around on Segways.  The check-in was what one would expect for a thing of this kind: a medical exam, blood drawn, yet another questionnaire, a general physical, lots of swabs and needles and yuck.  He was exhausted by the time he was finally shown into his room, which was set up like a rather nice hotel with his own bathroom and even a small kitchen.  All the things he'd asked for were there, though he'd brought an external harddrive with game saves and his pron stash.  They'd assured him of his electronic privacy within his room, though any outgoing or incoming traffic would be monitored.  He sent out a few chat messages and texts to let his people know that he'd arrived, then flopped onto the bed and fell asleep.

He was awoken by a knock at his door and pulled on some sweats before answering it, finding a doctor in a labcoat standing outside.  It was a strange juxtaposition between the hotel room and the hospital environment outside it, but it was his life now, so he just waved the man inside and sat on the bed.

"Alright..." the doctor checked his clipboard, "Juan.  So.  Today we have a few more injections for you, and then you'll be on your own for the next few weeks.  From now on, you'll just find meals outside your door, and there will be very minimal human contact.  You should have received the emergency number to call if you really find yourself in need of company, but we'll have a seal on your door to prevent physical contact."

"I thought I got the injections yesterday?" Juan complained.  "There's more?  My arm's still sore from all the needles..."

"Yesterday was just the primer.  Today is the real deal."

He suffered through three more injections, hissing at the burn as the fluids were forced into his body.  Then the doctor left, and he was alone.  Honestly, it wasn't much different from quarantine except that all the stress of rent and bills was gone.  It had all the comforts of a "staycation" with none of the pressures.  His meals were delivered, and he only had to put in a request if there was anything in particular that he was craving.  He had the internet and cable, plus any movie that he wanted for free including newly released films.  He was forbidden from voice chat, but he could text chat with anyone he wanted to, and there was only a slight delay when sending and receiving messages while the people monitoring it checked things over.  There was even a treadmill and weight set for fitness.  All he had to do was report on his physical condition twice daily.  The problem set in after the first week.

He developed an itch that wouldn't go away, right where they'd injected him.  The doctors told him that it was normal and sent him a cream to rub on the spot.  That helped, but the itch spread, day by day, until it covered his whole body.  They prescribed a daily soak in the tub with a medicated bathbomb that they provided, which helped wonderfully.  The itch faded, but then he started noticing hair where he hadn't had it before, very thick, and where he didn't have that his skin had begun to harden into kind of a scaly crust.  The doctors told him it was normal yet again, but he was beginning to freak out and insisted that one of them come see him.  They refused, and sent him some Prozac instead.  It was when he found a feather in the hair on his head, and plucking it out actually [i]hurt[/i], that he really started to panic.  Trashing his room got their attention, and he finally found himself facing a doctor through a pane of plexiglass that was riveted into place outside his door.  He'd tried breaking through it and hadn't even left a crack, so he didn't bother trying to threaten the doctor, but he demanded an explanation.

"Look, here's the deal," the man began, "we're not looking for a vaccine per se.  We're not even looking for a cure.  We're looking to engineer complete immunity.  We've been doing things like this for a few decades now, taking animal DNA and using retroviruses to try and cure human illnesses.  Unfortunately, the trials can have a few side effects, and it looks like you're experiencing some of those.  We're sorry about that, but you can rest assured that you'll be cared for.  Depending on how far things progress, you might be able to reintegrate into society, sort of.  We have a community for people who are... less fortunate, and we're sure you'll like it there.  You'll even be able to talk to people again, but still no pictures or videos.  It's usually run its course in a month when this happens, and if it doesn't go any further than this, all you'll need to worry about is a bit of extra grooming when you get back home.  If it goes any further, well... we [i]do[/i] have a place for you, and you can even work for us to help continue our research, if you want.  We've made great leaps in medical science, but there [i]are[/i] sacrifices that have to be made in any kind of advancement."

Juan just slammed the door on the doctor and sat on the bed in his trashed room with his head in his hands.  He wasn't sure exactly what it was that he was becoming, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to know, but it certainly wasn't human.  Hopefully it would stop.  If it didn't...  Well, at least they weren't going to kill him.  At least, they said they wouldn't, but they hadn't mentioned any of this when he'd signed up, so who knew what they would do.  Regardless, he was trapped now, and he could only hope that they'd treat him kindly once whatever was happening to him had run its course.

[center][b]The End[/b][/center]