Drake is sitting in his home on the hovering lounge trying to get the work done for this particular jump. He has to thoroughly study the period he is jumping to, in order to blend in as seemingly as possible. He checks his clock. Ironically, time means much more to zoners than to the average person. He sighs. It is almost his scheduled jump time. He is just about ready, so with a final glance at his studies, he gets dressed in his suit and heads back out to the Zone dock.
The dock is empty when he arrives. Unlike the offices in the adjacent building, the dock usually is empty. Drake guesses it’s because that makes it easier to avoid any mishaps, or because it’s just really weird to watch someone else be departicalized and sucked into a hole in time, so management tries to spare them that particular unpleasantry. His zone-standard watch beeps. He feels the pad underneath his feet vibrate, and the lights of the scanner aboye him confirming his identity and mission. A succession of three beeps and…
There. He’s arrived at his destination, indicated by the way he still feels a bit like his insides are vibrating. He checks his watch again, as is standard.
He is late. Zone jumpers are never late. It’s a part of the job to be on time for every single mission. In the seven years Drake has been in this job, he hasn’t been late once. He is nothing if not efficient. Something must have gone wrong. Small inconsequential things like the messages zoners took usually have very arbitrary consequences, as to not do any damage to the natural time line. However, being late was unacceptable.
Drake rushes to the shuttle just beyond the sliding doors of the zone dock. Thankfully, the personal shuttle is outside the dock as it should be. Drakes breathes a sigh of relief as he hops on the shuttle. You can always feel the differences in time the most during the transportation phase. The shuttles from this particular time do not hover as smoothly as the ones from Drake’s. It’s as if he can feel every bit of turbulence and it makes him unduly nervous.
He lands at he assumed destination, an unmarked P.O. Box, and checks his watch again. He should be right on time now. His anxiety settles, but he still walks a bit faster as he stepped down from the shuttle. It's because of this that Drake is distracted. And it's because it's destructed that he runs headlong into another body. It's his second mistake today and he's a little exasperated with himself.
His exasperation turns to confusion when he looks up to see what exactly he has collided with. Standing before him is a person wearing a similar outfit and expression as him. Another zoner, one he doesn’t recognize, standing in front of his drop-off destination.
“Um, I think this might be a mistake,” he says after the initial confusion lifts.
“And who are you?” the strange zoner asks.
“I’m zoning here." Drake asserts, flashing the identity code on his watch.
“From when?” the stranger says, scrutiny obvious in his voice.
“Twenty-two twenty-two," Drake huffs.
“Who’s in charge then?”
Drake isn’t sure why it matters to the issue at hand, but in meeting another zoner, it is protocol to identify oneself. “Maximilian,” he says.
“Mistake indeed,” the zoner mumbles. “Well, this is my mission, so I’m gonna fulfil it." He opens the P.O. box and inserts an object from his air-tight carrier tube into the unknon darkness of the box. With one final, uninterested look, the zoner steps away and into a shuttle that has suddenly appeared during their conversation.
Drake, looks after the shuttle, bewildered. He has never had an interaction like that from another zoner. Zoners are profession by design and make it their goal that every delivery goes smoothly. At a true loss for what to do, Drake makes his delivery as well, before stepping on to his own newly-appeared shuttle. As he heads back to the Zone, he can’t help but question what just happened, and dread all the paperwork he would have to fill out in reporting it.
There is little reason why the Zoning board would send two carriers to deliver different messages to the same place, moments apart. Perhaps someone mistimed their jump or - impossible! The board is full of experts and algorithms and paperwork and paperwork and paperwork, just to avoid this sort of thing. They never make mistakes.
Something is seriously wrong here.
