the smuggler’s bible

Momoka

The letter vibrates when Momoka pulls it out of the mailbox. She pauses on the curb and gives it a shake. Again, some sort of electric buzz. (Very faint, but definite!)

“Fine,” she says. “Great. I guess i have time for this today.”

In the basement, she slits the envelope with a thumbnail. The quantum alloy inside unfolds and starts playing a hologram.

“Please, Garflaxibor, urgent assistance is—”

“Stop.”

“What?”

“Wrong address. This is Earth.”

“But Garflaxibor told us—”

“Yeah,” Momoka says, gesturing to a box of crumpled alloy in the corner. “That dude tells people a lot of things.”