The Courier’s Gambit
Short short fiction
John struck one final key to print the note, pleased with his well-crafted message. He would carry this epistle to the French Embassy himself, in keeping with the duties of his station. He rolled the paper into a neat scroll and asked Michael to secure the scroll to his ankle. Michael paused briefly from his own critical work, assisting John with a piece of twine. John would miss the group here at headquarters. He liked the high ceilings and open windows of the abandoned factory building; he liked listening to the soft chortles of his comrades. Still, there was a job to do. He stopped in the courtyard for a quick meal of fresh mulberries and warm water ahead of his flight.
It would be a days-long journey, but pigeons had been preparing for such things since the earlier wars — back in the late 1800s — and modern technological advancements only served to strengthen their formidable wing muscles. John didn’t require improvements to his innate navigational system (no pigeon would ever admit to requiring such enhancements) but still, it never hurt to have a backup.
As a scribe and a courier, John’s job was relatively easy. It was more challenging, in his opinion, to work in manufacturing or distribution. John had spent the bulk of his adult life studying foreign governments and International Relations, so choosing the right words…
