Lost In Transit (EN) (P:A)

ALIENING IN

The mailboy looked at the elder, before saying. "City center. My gratitude for your gesture, though, my orders were to go alone." He was still partially unsatisfied with what his elder did.

"Comprehensible. I'd appreciate it if you passed by central." The chief said, making a request afterwards.

"With what goal?" Fred expressed, changing his visor expression to a skeptical yet curious version of his face sprite. Moving along the line.

His supervisor acknowledged his question. "Your promotion." Before smiling.

"...Clarify?" Fred's pupils dilated a bit. He looked at his colleague with surprise.

"You are under the process of being promoted to an administrative post." His manager contextified further. "Central has been recently fetching for those with an administratively-able background. Your eight years of active service fall under that umbrella."

"Mm. Astonishing. I will ensure my voyage to the central office is immediate once I am finished." Fred notifies, losing up a bit on his previous behavior due to his exposure. Smiling as well.

Both would resume to their normal neutral expressions, as a guard approached Fred. Notifying him. "I get you two are probably having an interesting chat, but it's your turn sir."

The courier-gen gave a last glance at his superior, before being scouted inside by the guard. Once inside, the booth's sliding door closed.

The inside was what could be described as a used, aging, yet sleek interior, it had white plastic walls, with some round wooden corner details on the roof, which contained LED lightbars. The walls had visible black splotches, likely from water damage or vandalism, and some roof wooden panels were broken, along with the lightbars, which were also partially damaged, flickering, but still illuminating the dim booth. A divider wall with glass and a small office behind separated a Transportation Security Administration border agent from the individual being checked, with a big round transfer shaft on the side of the window, it was closed by an Iris door, allowing items to be transferred for inspection.

The agent looked at Fred, and grasped his hotline phone's handset, he hadn't pressed the speaker button for the protogen to hear him yet, so he could speak freely on the phone. "Asset is in the transfer point. What are my instructions?"

A short answer came through, though it wasn't the two airmen, yet, someone else. It sounded like a man in his sixties. "Proceed as standard protocol. Report delivery contents at the end of the survey, deny or allow passage at your own discretion."

"Copy that." The inspector replied. Before putting the handset on its stand. He pressed a button on his console, turning on the speaker for Fred to listen. "C'mon buddy, state the nature of your entrance."

"I come to the service of my employer, Kintetsu Private Services, on courier duty." He stated, before holding out his identicard and backpack near the transfer shaft.

"Uhuh." He rotated a knob on the iris control panel, which opened it. Allowing the mailboy to put it in a conveyor belt that moved them to the guard's office. "To prevent contraband, broadcast of police or otherwise private access codes, and general WireNet interference, may I pause your voyage recorder?"

"I find no issue in that decision, feel free to inspect the contents of my delivery as well, keep in mind your handling." The courier replied calmly.

"Didn't need to tell me an essay…" The inspector said, before pausing his recorder, opening the courier's bag, to find himself met with a cardboard box. "So. What's been keeping you busy?" He queried, removing his issued switchblade from his desk's surface slicing through the container's tape seal open.

The protogen maintained a poker face, despite being curious, before answering to him. "Mm. I can say I've had time to consider." He'd maintain his composed demeanor while answering.

The inspector quickly dug through the box's contents, and to both's surprise, what he pulled out of it was a LetFlop. An extinct and obsolete storage medium and messaging format. These fell largely out of use due to their impracticality, and the advent of WireNet chats. "Oh?"

"..." The courier stood silent. Before complementing the answer he gave to him. "I have been contemplating transferring back to Protogen Technologies' science bureau. The feat would require half my current funds however."

"Heh, quite ironic." The borderman said, using a handheld metal detector to verify any other metals inside the box, before applying a chemical compound on the protective stuffing and bubble wrap, to reveal the existence of any illicit substances. Which revealed none. "Sounds awfully like homesickness."

"It could hold some truth. My decision is not final however." The courier said. Maintaining his firm answers, and exact vocabulary.

The frontier man began repacking his floppy letter, and reclosing the box, sealing it with a TSA-Anchorage Border Force seal tape, before returning his backpack and box back. He didn't survey the bag as it contained only a single compartment, which allowed minimum space to hide things. "Right, just gonna check your ID. Mind lowering your necklace for the picture?"

The Courier lowers his necklace, this time more comfortably as he is in private. The border man grabs his serial "NX-5768", and opens his terminal, which was connected to WireNet, with a search software running, he'd input the serial, and the system shows all of Fred's records and documents in the aging CRT monitor of the inspector's terminal.

The files were rather consistent. And the pictures matched. He'd prepare to hit a camera button to update his list and call it a day, suddenly, when his hotline phone rang. "Excuse me…" he turns off the speaker, and gets on the call. "Yes?"

The old man replied. "Report on your situation."

"Boutta let the asset pass. Seems to be carrying a single parcel, no signs of contraband or elicits of any kind, he's in possession of no weapons, and a box containing a LetFlop." He answered in full detail.

The operator reacted to his report in relief. "Good, you may proceed."

His border contact hangs up, putting the handset back, and taking a picture of Fred with a wall mounted camera in the courier's chamber, before turning the speaker system back on, and reinstituting him of his possessions. "Right, you may pass."

The courier, with his items now back, would hide his cattle tag, pulling his necklace over it. The inspector man opened the door to the city side of the wall separating the municipality.

The two Security Forces members carried on roving from their bunker. Continuously receiving reports of the courier's health status and position.

As Fred ventures into the city limits, he gets on the bus, he sees that some of the Border Watchmen have arrested two people, who'd be to their knees, tied by cuffs, at the aim of rifles. Once he and his compatriots boarded the bus, along with the human passengers and driver, they set off to the nearest stop.