The Meeting

Inside the meeting room was a large conference table and, on one wall, a plain white surface that looked suspiciously like shiny paper. In the corner, a mounted box held an assortment of multi-colored crayons.

On the wall, someone had drawn a giant circle with "100%" written in the center. A line pointed off the top of the circle to a note: "Percentage of the chart that looks like a wheel of cheese."

Elsewhere, someone had scrawled a big "01," with a caption above it: "It has been this many days since the Postmaster loudly yelled, 'BRANCH!'"

The Postmaster—who also apparently never thinks of Pathy—remarked, "All we need now is Path."

Right on cue, Pathy walked in. "Sorry I'm late—we just got back from the doctor. There's something wrong with Path!" She pulled him from her pouch and plopped him on the floor. He looked like he hadn’t slept—ever.

But the moment he saw Maizy, his face lit up and he ran to her. She smiled, made herself a little heavier, and braced for impact. He hugged her, knocked her over with a "keh!"—and immediately passed out.

Is he snoring?  Maizy instinctively began grooming Path as she held him.  Yes. Yes he is.

The Postmaster—after witnessing this absurdly adorable display—entered a trance-like state. "Gods. Gods. Oh, Gods." She rocked back and forth, staring at Path and Maizy.

Maizy pointed at the Postmaster and signed, "What's wrong?"

Both Grandma and Mom rolled their eyes. Mom replied, "Cute overload."

Nobody noticed Pathy slumped in the corner, leaning against the wall. "He's finally resting... Please hold him for a bit, Maizy," she mumbled, curling into a ball as if to nap too.

"I guess we have no choice," Grandma said, pulling Path off Maizy and dropping him onto Pathy—who didn't stir. Path instinctively crawled into her pouch without opening his eyes.

Grandma slung Pathy over her shoulder. "I'll drop her in a corkrest," she told the Postmaster. "Have Branch show Maizy around or take her to the library. Let’s meet back here for lunch. I’ll see about getting us some grapes."

Corkrest! That's what those sleeping tubes are called!

Bloom giggled. "Mom, you're so old-fashioned! We call them cuddlepipes now."

"More like CODDLEpipes! Too soft!" Grandma snorted, stomping off with Pathy over her shoulder.

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After Grandma was out of earshot, the Postmaster turned to the Proscribrarian. "Wow, I feel so out of touch. Do we really call them cuddlepipes now?"

"Hah! No. I said that just to mess with her," Bloom grinned.

The Postmaster smiled faintly and, in her usual monotone, said, "Ha. Good one." Then she walked to the door and bellowed, "BRANCH!"

"I'm right here, Mom. Jeez!" came the reply from a rather large keedo standing just outside.

"Oh good. We need you to watch Maizy until lunch." She gestured at Maizy—who was giggling and trying to turn the "1" into a "0" on the shiny wall with a crayon.

"Give her a tour of the Post Office, then head to the library," she said. Then she smiled warmly and added, "You can introduce her to that kaydee you fancy."

"Mom! Really!?" Branch hated when his mom brought up his love life—especially in public. The Postmaster knew this, of course, which is why she did it. Parents resist that kind of temptation about as well as a kaydee resists hunting bugs.

"Maizy, this is my keedo, Branch. He’ll show you around." She gave a sinister grin. "Maybe you two could go play with the uppee!"

"Nooo way! She is not playing with the uppee. I will not do to Maizy what Bay did to me!" Branch hissed at Bay, who was still manning the front desk. Bay—who had clearly heard everything—just grinned and winked.

What's that all about? That's the second person who said not to play with the uppee.

"Let's go, Maizy. I'll show you to the sorting room." Branch motioned with his hand, then started walking to a far corner of the building where there was a ramp leading down.

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Maizy followed Branch down the ramp and stopped in awe at the bustle below. Sorting bins lined the floor, kads darted between them with scrolls, and wooden pipes crisscrossed the ceiling. At many desks, miniature uppee devices sent letters zipping through the tubes. One pipe stretched across the whole room—she could see its entire length.

"Oh, Branch! Perfect timing," called a small keedo, only a little older than Maizy. "This uppee isn’t working. I swapped it with a good one, but... how does that even happen? I’ve never heard of an uppee failing before." His eyes drifted to the ramp, landing on Maizy. He paused, then smiled. "Hi."

Maizy sat up, smiled back, and waved.

"Did you spill something on it? That can break the new ones. The ink we're using now isn't as good as the old stuff," Branch said.

He picked up the device from the edge of the table, peeled off its top layer of cork, and revealed a sticky glue-like substance beneath. A blurry symbol showed faintly on the wood.

"See?" Branch held it up, pointing at the smudge. "You did spill something on it."

"That's not... impossible," the small keedo replied, looking a little embarrassed. "Can you fix it?"

"Of course I can fix it! The Woodmaster has me making uppees every single day! I could be building furniture, cuddlepipes—" he giggled and winked at Maizy—"flooring, cups, bowls, anything!  But nooo, it’s always uppees and pipes. Day in, day out."

Maizy giggled, and Branch’s grin stretched wide. "Want to see how an uppee’s made? It’s super simple. This is Grove, by the way," he added, giving him a friendly shoulder-punch. "And Grove, this is the demon slayer with two tails—Maizy!"

Oh, Branch is smooth, Maizy thought.  And handsome, now that I've got a better look at him.

"Heh... hello," Grove managed, suddenly very shy.

Branch began his explanation. "Every uppee is just a block of magic wood with the force symbol written on it." He pulled a pencil from his poncho and drew three thick circles in a triangular pattern on the bottom.

"It's the wood grain that controls the direction." He pointed to the edge of the block, showing that the wood grain was perpendicular to the symbol. "Since the other side is all smudged, we can just flip it over. The cork serves no purpose, really—other than to protect the symbol. If you orient cork properly, magic passes right through it. It's how magic trees absorb magic, actually."

YES! Uppees weren't in the magic devices book! Probably because they're so simple.

He then held the uppee out for Maizy, and she took it. She held up three fingers and signed, "More!"

"You want three more?" Branch blinked, then grinned as she nodded vigorously. Maizy clearly had a plan.

"OK, hand me that one," he said, and she happily obliged.

Maizy expected Branch to fetch spare uppees, but instead his tail glowed bright green and the block in his hands stretched to twice its length. With surgical precision it split cleanly in two—then again, and again—until four identical blocks rested in his palms.

Cool! How'd he do that? Some sort of wood tail?

Branch drew the force symbol—three circles in a triangle—on the new blocks and handed them to Maizy, who beamed with excitement.

"I don't think I've ever seen someone so happy to play with table uppees," Branch said with a smile.  Hey, whatever makes her happy... Gods, that smile. She's so cute.

Maizy carefully set all four uppees on the floor and stepped onto them.

I'm going to fly! Maizy thought, pouring magic into all four blocks at once.

She started slowly sliding sideways, and Branch laughed. "Hah! I tried the same thing when I was your age! You're trying to fly!"

Grove suddenly felt silly.  How come I never thought of that? Wait—why isn't it working?

Maizy stopped, then looked down at her hands, wondering why it didn't work.

"That won't work," Branch said, sounding apologetic. "Well, you were flying—just a teeny tiny bit. That trick can be fun though! My cousins and I used to have races at the Woodworkery when the Woodmaster was out. Hehe."  We should do that again, he thought.

Maizy was severely disappointed. She signed, "Why no work?"

"I think the force is spread out too much." Branch’s tail lit green as he pulled a sheet of paper from the table and started sketching.

Wow! That wood tail is amazing!

Grove seemed to notice that Maizy looked impressed, so he summoned his own paper out of the table. His was much thicker, and it seemed to take a lot more effort.

"Hah! Not bad, Grove—but you’ll need a lot more practice," Branch grinned. "Don’t worry! After two wobbles, the Woodmaster will have had you making so much paper that it’ll haunt your dreams." He leaned in, laughing. "Ask me how I know."

Branch finished his sketch and held it up. "Magic wood readily accepts magic, but you have to tell it what to do. That's what the force symbol does." He pointed with his pencil at the symbol he'd drawn on the paper.

"If you don't give it a symbol," Grove added, "it'll just grow—randomly. Really fast!"

Branch smiled. "Yeah, that's how you learn you didn't draw your symbol properly. My cuddlepipe was overflowing with wood some mornings, making my mom really mad, haha. 'Just doing my homework, Mom!'"

Grove snickered. "Hah! My mom was mad at me the other day for the same reason!"

Maizy couldn't stop smiling. This was her first interaction with other kids that could talk!  I love this!

Branch continued his explanation. "The symbol tells the wood what to do, but it'll do that thing across the entire surface of the wood." He circled the block that he'd drawn. "Force magic also wants to spread itself out as much as possible, so when it pushes out you get this." He sketched a wide cone shape.

Maizy signed, "How big up work?"

"The big uppees are trickier," Branch admitted. "Inside, the grain’s arranged in circles to store magic, then crystals under the cork release it all at once when you hop on." He tapped the page. "There’s a whole book about them in the Woodworking section of the library."

That explains why that book on magical mechanisms was so tiny! Kad magic uses magic wood, so most magic stuff is probably just 'woodworking'!

He winked at Grove. "How much time left in your shift? We're going to the library next. You can come with us."

Grove frowned, "I just started."

Are they using kids as a labor force? I hope I don't get drafted!  Maizy suddenly felt the urge to leave this place.

"Go library," she signed at Branch.

"Alright. See you around, Grove. Sorry about my mom." Branch sighed.

As they left, Maizy noticed a kad placing a scroll onto a desk uppee, then lifting it up toward one of the pipes. Nothing happened—until it touched the edges. Then—fwoop!—the scroll shot away.

Why did that work? Shouldn't the magic have only lifted the scroll a little bit?