It’s just a DOT away

I had always wanted a tattoo. I just never imagined my first would be government mandated.

Sometime in February 2021, VacTat ads blasted through social media and billboards covered the land.

Vaccine discovered – We’ve got you covered!

End the bad dream – Get the vaccine!

VacTat: Protection in a SNAP

“VacTat won’t hurt at all,” the health officials said. The vaccine would be administered with quantum dot technology, which I still don’t quite understand how it works.

Something about nanocrystals and light. It would be barely visible to the naked eye until scanned. You could choose colors for when it lit up under the scanner – for the kids I guess – but it’s not like you could choose a design or placement. Had to be right thumb. Knuckle side.

The logo for the VacTat ad campaign was 6 different colored fists raised in unison, to represent the 6 continents (minus Antarctica) ravaged by the virus. There were small but noticeable dots on each fist’s thumb. They were punching away the virus.

The world was on fire with the inception of VacTat. Politicians, healthcare professionals and influential voices lauded VacTat. Critics and skeptics vehemently decried the cutting-edge medical tattoo as invasive and easy to misuse. Holy rollers called it the Mark of the Beast. There were heated debates on talk shows and flame wars igniting online forums. Small pockets of resistance demonstrated on the streets in every country.

But the world had had enough of negativity.

The virus had choked the life out of 5 million people worldwide. Mass graves were common sights in major cities. Food and supply shortages shook the world market to its knees. Unprecedented unemployment had decimated economies. Unfettered inflation had devalued money and hard-earned savings had been wiped out. Millions were living on pittance from the government and food banks had replaced grocery stores indefinitely. Residential streets were peppered with shuttered homes and wind whistled through broken windows of ghostly office buildings nestled in overgrowth. Suicide rates spiked worldwide.

After more than a year oscillating between limited movement and total lockdown (due to the virus recurring after every attempt to loosen restrictions), the planet’s exasperated public was jubilant upon hearing a vaccine had been found. Millions desperately wanted to get back to any semblance of normalcy. We were prisoners of an invisible captor.

We yearned for freedom and safety.

VacTat promised that. And more.

Progress is spelled V-A-C-T-A-T

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While we remained locked down in our homes, our governments had been setting up infrastructures ahead of VacTat’s rollout. VacTat scanners had been implemented just about everywhere, from courthouses to public toilets.

The tattoo, they said, was to be so much more than just a vaccination.

And it would make life so much easier to live.

Once they laid out the details, it became clear just how revolutionary VacTat would be.

It could hold your entire medical history, your passport and identification information. It would store your credit score, your various registrations, your criminal record. No need to remember passwords and codes – all would be stored in the app and uploaded into your hand. It had GPS capabilities. It could monitor your heart rate and act as a more accurate FitBit.

On top of being a health monitor, VacTat would be a stress reliever. Dexaleros had recently been touted as a safe alternative to antidepressant and anti-anxiety meds – to which millions of people had become heavily addicted to during the pandemic. Drug and alcohol abuse had skyrocketed during the lockdown, as did domestic abuse. Since VacTat would be able to accurately sense when a person was angry or stressed, the quantum dots of VacTat would automatically release Dexaleros into the blood stream, giving the subject a warm wash of tranquility and pleasant feelings.

With a quick scan you would be able to use public transport and pass through tollbooths. You could connect it to Alexa and other smart devices. You could link up all your debit and credit card accounts and with the swipe of your hand, pay for anything.

There had been a lot of talk that cash and credit cards were treacherous magnets for bacteria. The WHO and the United Nations agreed that cash and cards would eventually have to be phased out to help keep the world safe from another plague.

So, all the world’s physical money will be abolished within 2 years and replaced with global cryptocurrency. A social credit system will be implemented to maintain order and incentivize good moral practices, like that Black Mirror episode – just not as bleak. They haven’t released a plan yet, but based on what I’ve read, it seems that for every positive action, we will receive points. Accrue enough points and people can exchange them for cryptocurrency or benefits. I’m not sure what happens for negative actions.

I’ve never been very good at making money. The corporate world never appealed to me. I always preferred doing a variety of odd jobs and enjoyed getting to know people through them – an affable jack of all trades, if you will. I make enough to get by, but it’s the true human connections I’ve made along the way that make living worthwhile. I’d always maintained a decent credit score, never dipped lower than a 4.8 on ridesharing apps, and never been banned on social media. Never had any brushes with the law and always paid my bills on time.

Some people are a little (or extremely) wary about the social credit aspect, but honestly, I consider it a silver lining. It’s about time merit took precedence over capital. A society incentivizing people to be better citizens is far superior to a society incentivizing people to be greedy and selfish.

It was impossible to hold out hope while the virus collectively gutted us.

It was impossible to think about the future if we were to have one at all.

But better days are here again.

I genuinely believe that my future will be better than the one I was forced to leave behind.

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I received a government text in April with the location, day, and time I would have my VacTat placed.

Weeks later I pulled on my mask, slapped on my latex gloves, and waited in a line that snaked around the block at my local pharmacy. Everyone stood the mandatory 6 feet from each other. Helicopters circled overhead. Imposing black SWAT cars were parked around the perimeter. Masked police were positioned along the line, shouting at us to keep the distance. Their K-9s growled if we took too many steps or got too close to another person. I heard some faint Anti-VacTat protest chanting way back at the end of the line around the corner. Several heavily armored police ran around the building. Bloodcurdling screams, several shots, and then silence.

It didn’t feel as euphoric as the VacTat advertisements made Placement Day out to be.

I straightened up and made sure I didn’t overstep my six feet of personal space. My heart was racing with anticipation. My placement was now mere minutes away.

Before he got called in to get his placement, the young guy in front of me turned and joyfully shouted through his N-95 mask, “I’m about to be a free man again, bro!”

I nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

“Happy independence day, my man!” I yelled as he walked into a Placement Room.

As the door closed behind him, I looked down at my hand.

Freedom and safety were now just a quantum dot away.

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#covid19 #coronavirus #vaccine #safety