TWENTY: An Ordinary Mailbox

Relieved, Alden tightened his grip on his envelope and exited the teleportation bay.

He stood in a long hallway filled with bays identical to the one he’d just arrived through. People were streaming out of them at regular intervals, many of them dragging small suitcases behind them. Letting a woman in a hijab pass by, Alden took a second to get his bearings then followed a lighted sign on the wall that said some version of WAY OUT in five different languages.

A couple of minutes later, he’d reached a wide open atrium full of potted palms in steel planters. A light flashed in the bottom right corner of his vision. When Alden focused his attention on it for a few seconds, the words “voice call from Clytem Zhao” scrolled upwards from the point of light.

Does the System just not see any point in using my cell phone anymore?

He wondered if his old messages were available through the interface somehow. He needed to practice with it more.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket anyway and held it to his ear so that he wouldn’t look like a System user to anyone else.

That also means I can’t poke around at the air in front of my face. Normal humans don’t do that.

“Accept call,” he said quietly.

“Hey, kid,” Hannah’s friend said. Her tone was friendly, but a little subdued. “I just got a notice for your teleport. Are you still in the right number of pieces?”

“I am. Thanks for arranging it for me, Ms. Zhao.”

“Hannah would’ve wanted you here. There’s nothing to thank me for. The service is taking place on the other side of Anesidora from you. In Apex. You’ve got around three hours to yourself in F City, and then I’ll come pick you up. We’ll grab a quick lunch somewhere, if you’re in the mood to eat, and head over. How does that sound?”

“It sounds good.”

“Okay. See you—oh, wait. Almost forgot. I put ten Argold under your name in case you wanted to buy anything. Hannah used to do that, right? You know how it works? It’s around forty Canadian dollars…sorry I’m not up on the current U.S. conversion.”

Hannah had always done that.

Alden found himself swallowing around an unexpected lump. “That’s really thoughtful of you. Thanks.”

“No sweat. See you soon.”

After the call ended, Alden headed over to the atrium’s help desk and picked up one of the debit cards that kids and other non-Avowed used to pay for things on the island. The man working at the desk confirmed his identity with a thumbprint and loaded Clytem Zhao’s money on the card, plus a little of Alden’s own he’d brought to pay for stamps…or whatever the Anesidoran equivalent was.

“What’s the best way to mail something?” Alden asked as they finished up.

“You mean a postcard?” the man said dismissively. “You’ll have a hard time finding one. We don’t have a tourist industry here on Anesidora.”

Alden had wondered why the guy was so rude when he’d asked for the debit card. He must be one of those “Anesidora for Anesidorans” types who thought non-Avowed shouldn’t be allowed to set foot here.

Dick.

Still, Alden wanted the information.

“No. I mean where’s the nearest post office? I want to mail something to someone on the island.”

He sighed as though Alden had asked him to perform an impossible task. “There’s a mailbox on your way out of the building. You can pay with your card.”

That was convenient. Alden was uncomfortable carrying around a letter that would reveal him as a selectee, and the sooner he got it out of his hands, the better.

He found the mailbox near the exit easily enough. But using it turned out to be more of a process than he had anticipated. It was a big hunk of metal, larger than a refrigerator, with a baffling lack of helpful instructions, buttons, or screens.

There was just a single cabinet for placing your parcel in, and below it, an etched signature that said “Wrightwork by Indah Juliana.”

Alden only knew it was a mailbox at all because it was sitting beside a sign that said POST DROP.

He walked around it, looking for somewhere to stick his new debit card, but he couldn’t find anything.

Is this one of those things that’s obvious if you live here?

Finally, feeling absurd, he tried talking to the box. “Hey, you are for mail, right?”

“Hello!” said a metallic voice. It was high and exuberant, like a cartoon character. “I am Post Drop #1301 – a graduation capstone project gifted to F City by Indah Juliana. Would you like to mail something?”

“Yes?” Alden said uncertainly.

“Grrreat! Just place your envelope or parcel in my handy-dandy depository. Please no explosives, delicate electronics, or live animals.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Okay. I wanted to confirm that the address is valid, though?”

Alden had an address for a big mansion owned by Aulia Velra’s son Corin. Boe had found it online, but it still seemed like something he should double check.

“No sweat! If your address doesn’t match the name of your recipient, I will return your package to you.”

“How do I buy postage?”

“If you’re an Avowed, just place your hand anywhere on my front panel. I’ll connect to your System interface. If you are a minor, a non-Avowed resident, or a visitor, please place your NesiCard in my depository with your mail.”