The Nova Express dispatch center hummed with pre-shift activity. Couriers clustered around assignment terminals, comparing routes and trading tips on security checkpoint timing. Kai stood at the edge of the crowd, still unused to the noise after two weeks on the job. His first paycheck had cleared yesterday—hardly enough to celebrate, but a solid step toward his skate fund.

  The assignment board chimed, and his interface pinged with an incoming job. Not the standard daily route he'd begun to memorize, but a priority notification flagged in red.

  COURIER: KR-7723-M ASSIGNMENT: HIGH-SECURITY DELIVERY

  PRIORITY: ALPHA REPORT: DISPATCH OFFICE 12

  Alpha priority? That designation typically went to veterans with years of grid knowledge, not rookies still figuring out which security cameras had blind spots.

  Office 12 turned out to be a small alcove separate from the main dispatch area. Inside, a supervisor he hadn't met before studied a security terminal with rigid posture that screamed former corporate enforcement. His avatar showed none of the wear most long-term Nova Express employees displayed—no customization, no personality mods, just a standardized supervisor template in company colors.

  "KR-7723-M reporting for assignment," Kai said.

  The supervisor looked up, eyes scanning him with algorithmic assessment. "You're the contractor with the route optimization suggestions."

  Not a question, but he nodded anyway. Last week he'd submitted efficiency improvements for his assigned sector, shaving eight minutes off the standard path by rerouting through three underutilized maintenance corridors.

  "This package requires special handling." The supervisor retrieved a small case from a secure locker. Unlike the standard delivery packages with their corporate branding and tracking codes, this one was physically sealed with tamper-evident technology—old-school security that couldn't be bypassed with network exploits.

  The supervisor placed it on the desk between them. "Your destination is the Kleinman Research Consortium in Sector 7. Their facility is located in a restricted access zone. Your temporary clearance has been added to your profile."

  "Isn't Sector 7 usually handled by senior couriers?" The question slipped out before Kai could stop it, and the supervisor's expression immediately hardened.

  "The regular courier for this route is unavailable. Your optimization record flagged you as a suitable replacement." He pushed the package forward. "This delivery operates under Secure Protocol Six. Do you need a refresher on those procedures?"

  Kai quickly shook his head. He'd memorized all delivery protocols during training, though he never expected to use the higher security designations so soon.

  "Verbal confirmation required."

  "No refresher needed. I understand Secure Protocol Six requirements."

  The supervisor nodded. "Sign for the package."

  Kai pressed his palm to the scanner, and his interface registered the acceptance. The package felt unexpectedly heavy in his hands, as if the system had assigned it greater physical properties than its size warranted—a security feature designed to prevent couriers from forgetting high-value items.

  "Your route has been uploaded to your secure channel. Deviation from the approved path will trigger an automatic security response. Completion confirmation is required from the recipient before you'll be cleared to return. Questions?"

  "No, sir."

  "Proceed."

  Outside the dispatch center, he checked his assigned route—a straight shot through the commercial district, followed by a security crossing at Checkpoint Nine, then northwest into Sector 7's research zone. Simple enough, though the route conspicuously avoided several shortcuts he had discovered during his explorations of the grid.

  He set off at a brisk walk, the package secured inside his courier bag. Nova Express hadn't yet approved his request for company skates, claiming his probationary period needed to end first. His personal savings stood at 12% of the cost for even basic models.

  The commercial district buzzed with mid-morning activity—citizen avatars browsing storefronts, commercial drones zipping between buildings with deliveries, and the occasional security patrol monitoring it all with practiced indifference. Kai maintained a steady pace, mindful of his tight delivery window.

  Approaching Checkpoint Nine, he noticed an unusual concentration of security drones redirecting traffic. A holographic barrier spanned the usual crossing, forcing pedestrians toward alternate routes.

  SECURITY NOTICE: CHECKPOINT 9

  CLOSED FOR SYSTEM MAINTENANCE

  ALL TRAFFIC REROUTE TO CHECKPOINTS 8 OR 10

  He checked his directions again. The supervisor had been explicit about not deviating from the approved path, but the checkpoint closure hadn't been in the briefing. He opened his comm channel to request guidance when someone bumped his shoulder.

  "They won't answer," said a voice beside him. "Not for at least twenty minutes. System maintenance includes comm disruption."

  He turned to find another courier watching him—male, late twenties, with an angular face and eyes that reflected light in emerald patterns that must have cost a month's wages to render. His Nova Express uniform had subtle modifications: reinforced seams, additional storage pouches, and what looked like custom wiring running along the sleeves.

  "You're carrying secure protocol too, huh?" The courier nodded toward Kai's bag. "They never update the route guidance when checkpoints close. Bad programming."

  "I'm not supposed to deviate from the assigned path," Kai said, keeping his voice low.

  The courier laughed. "First high-security run? I'm Teo. Sector 4 through 9 regular."

  "Kai. Usually Sector 3."

  "Thought I hadn't seen you before." Teo glanced at the security barrier, then checked his interface. "Look, if you're headed to the research zone, I know an alternate route that stays within compliance parameters. I'm delivering there too."

  Kai hesitated. The protocol training had emphasized isolation during secure deliveries, but it had also stressed timeline adherence. A missed delivery window could result in shipment rejection.

  "Why would you help me?"

  "Courier code. We look out for each other, especially with corporate routes." Teo grinned. "Plus, your optimization suggestions for Sector 3 saved me twelve minutes yesterday. I owe you."

  That settled it. Kai nodded, and Teo motioned for him to follow. They diverted east, moving through a less crowded commercial zone filled with digital architecture firms and rendering studios. Teo moved with the confidence of someone who'd memorized every corner of their territory, occasionally pointing out security camera positions or patrol patterns with subtle gestures.

  "So what do you think it is?" Teo asked, nodding toward Kai's bag again.

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  "Pretty sure we're not supposed to speculate about secure deliveries."

  "Of course we're not. But everyone does." Teo tapped his own bag. "Mine's got weird weight distribution. Too heavy for the size, center of mass keeps shifting. Some kind of specialized data core, maybe experimental tech."

  "You deliver to the research consortium often?"

  "Once or twice a week. They're always working on something that's too sensitive for network transmission." Teo lowered his voice. "You ever wonder why they still need physical couriers in a digital world? When data could just flow through the network?"

  Kai had wondered exactly that since his first day. "I figured it was tradition. Or jobs program."

  "Nah. It's network vulnerabilities." Teo guided them down a side passage between two towering commercial structures. "Some data is too valuable or sensitive to risk interception. Physical transport is still the most secure method for certain packages."

  They emerged into a quieter district filled with high-end residential towers. Teo pointed toward a roving security sensor disguised as a maintenance drone.

  "See that? Scanning for unauthorized data transfers. Corporate espionage is big business. One intercepted transmission could cost millions in lost research advantage."

  "So we're glorified network security gap-fillers."

  Teo grinned. "I prefer 'information security specialists.' Sounds better on the resume."

  They continued through the residential district, Teo occasionally pointing out other security measures—disguised scanners, passive monitoring systems, and pattern-recognition cameras tracking pedestrian movements.

  "Half of courier work is understanding what you're not supposed to notice," Teo explained. "The real grid isn't the one on the official maps. It's the negative space where security doesn't look too closely."

  As they approached the boundary of Sector 6, Kai noticed a maintenance team working on what appeared to be a glitching building facade. The structure's rendering flickered, occasionally revealing wireframe underneath—like momentary glimpses of the system's skeleton.

  "Rendering anomaly," Teo said, following Kai's gaze. "Been increasing lately. That's the third one I've seen this week."

  The maintenance workers had erected containment barriers, but Kai could still see the effect—colors shifting in unnatural patterns, textures temporarily losing coherence before snapping back into place.

  "What causes that?" he asked.

  Teo's expression turned cautious. "Officially? Resource allocation issues. Too many calculations for available processing power."

  "And unofficially?"

  "Some of the older couriers talk about 'bleed-through.'" Teo glanced around before continuing. "Areas where the environment gets thin, where something from elsewhere starts showing through."

  "Elsewhere?"

  "Just repeating what I've heard." Teo quickened his pace. "We should keep moving. Security sweep in this sector in about three minutes."

  As they cleared the residential zone, Kai processed what Teo had shared. Bleed-through from elsewhere? The concept connected uncomfortably with what the contractor had shouted at the CMO about system boundaries.

  They reached a secondary checkpoint—smaller than the main crossing but less crowded. Teo approached the security scan with practiced confidence, and Kai followed his lead. Their courier credentials cleared them through without issue.

  "See? Completely compliant alternate route." Teo nodded toward a gleaming research complex ahead. "There's your destination. Mine's two blocks further."

  "Thanks for the guidance," Kai said. "I would have been stuck waiting for comm clearance."

  "No problem. But listen—" Teo hesitated, suddenly serious. "Be careful with curiosity in this job. Couriers see things others don't. Asking questions about what you see gets noticed."

  Before Kai could respond, Teo continued with forced casualness. "What time's your return shift? Maybe we could grab syntho-coffee if we finish around the same time."

  "Should be done by 1400, assuming the delivery goes smoothly."

  "I'll ping you." Teo gave a small salute and continued toward his destination, leaving Kai to approach the research consortium alone.

  The Kleinman facility rose fifteen stories, its exterior a sleek combination of simulated glass and brushed metal. Unlike the commercial district's flashy aesthetics, this building projected understated authority—the architecture of serious research and significant funding.

  Kai passed through multiple security layers: identity verification, package authentication, and a full scan that seemed more thorough than the standard checkpoint procedure. Finally, a security algorithm cleared him through to an interior reception area where a tense-looking scientist waited.

  "Nova Express courier with secure delivery for Dr. Larsson," he said, presenting his credentials.

  The scientist glanced around the empty reception area before responding. "I'm Larsson. Authorization code?"

  Kai provided the secure delivery confirmation, and Larsson quickly verified it on his interface.

  "The package, please."

  As Kai handed over the sealed case, he noticed Larsson's hands trembling slightly. The scientist immediately ran some kind of verification scan over the tamper-evident seals.

  "Integrity confirmed," Larsson murmured, visibly relieved. "Your delivery is acknowledged."

  Protocol required Kai to wait until the recipient formally closed the transaction. Larsson seemed to remember this belatedly, tapping his interface to complete the process.

  "You've done good work, courier. This data is..." he trailed off, glancing toward a security camera in the corner before finishing lamely, "...important to our research."

  "Happy to help," Kai replied neutrally.

  Larsson lowered his voice. "Tell your dispatcher the isolation protocols are maintaining effectiveness despite increasing pressure. She'll understand."

  Before Kai could ask what that meant, Larsson turned and hurried through a secured doorway, the package clutched tightly against his chest.

  The return trip proceeded without incident. He retraced their route, noting the security patterns Teo had pointed out with new awareness. The rendering anomaly had been contained, the maintenance team now gone, though faint visual artifacts still distorted the air where the glitch had been.

  Back at Nova Express headquarters, he reported to Office 12 where the same supervisor waited, expression unchanged.

  "Delivery confirmed by recipient," he reported.

  "Timeline adherence?"

  "Completed within specification despite Checkpoint Nine closure."

  The supervisor's eyes narrowed slightly. "Explain your route adjustment."

  "Utilized courier network intelligence to identify compliant alternate pathway. Maintained secure protocol throughout."

  A moment of assessment, then a curt nod. "Acceptable. Additional message from recipient?"

  Kai hesitated, then repeated Larsson's strange comment. "He said to tell you that isolation protocols are maintaining effectiveness despite increasing pressure."

  Something flickered across the supervisor's face—too quick to identify, but definitely a break in the algorithmic composure.

  "Message acknowledged." She made a notation in her interface. "Your performance has been logged. You're cleared for return to standard assignment rotation."

  "Will there be other secure deliveries?"

  "Future assignments will be determined based on operational requirements and performance metrics." The supervisor's tone discouraged further questions. "Report to main dispatch for your afternoon route."

  In the central dispatch area, Kai checked his interface for his next assignment. As the details populated, he noticed his courier rating had increased by two points—a small but meaningful improvement. The system had apparently approved of his handling of the secure delivery.

  More interestingly, his assignment load had been updated with a notation:

  ELIGIBLE FOR SECURE PROTOCOL DELIVERIES (LEVELS 1-6).

  As he reviewed his afternoon route, his vision suddenly shifted. The dispatch terminal's interface revealed deeper layers—energy patterns flowing through the system architecture, connection points linking to databases he couldn't access, and information streams pulsing with encrypted data.

  He blinked, and everything returned to normal, the terminal showing its standard appearance. But the impression lingered—a sense that what he'd just glimpsed was merely the surface of something much more complex.

  Strange. Wonder what that was?

  His interface pinged with a message from Teo:

  [Finished early. Synthocoffee at Grid Bean in 30?]

  He confirmed and headed out, mind racing with questions about rendering anomalies, isolation protocols, and the strange weight of information that required physical transport through a digital world.

  Something significant was happening beneath Server Nova's pristine surface, and couriers—positioned at the intersection of corporate territories and security boundaries—seemed uniquely placed to notice it.

  The question was whether noticing came with risks that outweighed rewards.

  As the detained contractor at the CMO had demonstrated, some kinds of knowledge carried dangerous consequences in Server Nova. He would need to balance his growing courier access against the wisdom of Marlow's warning: keep your head down, but your eyes open.

  For now, though, he had syntho-coffee to drink, an afternoon route to plan, and a few more credits to add to his skate fund.

  The deeper mysteries of Server Nova would have to wait.