Stone Men In Water Street

[Rezantis]

"Better if you do it . . . I may have to give ID, and they're less likely to spot it if you give it."

[Bjorn]

"Buggar."  Bjorn rubs his forehead.  "Well, hopefully by the time they clue in to my name, Lazarus'll have set up a PO box on his own.  Okay, let's do that first, then the train station."

Leading the way, Bjorn heads into the post office, and looks for a "Get Your Post Office Box Here" counter, or, failing that, an information desk.

[Brian]

They have both.  But filling out the paperwork takes only a minute.  Longer is the wait in line for an attendant to help you out.  You're billed 14 dollars a month for a 10x12x40 (cm) mailbox, and they scribble down your driver's license information on the form, advising you to update them with your Alabama license once you complete your move, and thank you for choosing the U.S. postal service, please come again, may I help the next customer in line?

[Bjorn]

Bjorn pays cash for the mailbox (after borrowing some from Rez).  As he explains to Rez after the fact, this particular PO box will have served his purpose before then, and this way the existence of the PO box won't show up on his credit record -- making it that little bit much harder to track.

With that disposed of, he heads over to the train station, to buy two tickets for Montreal.

[Brian]

Tickets to Montreal cost quite a bit, and the train doesn't leave until tomorrow morning.  They're also a bit pricey, about the same cost as air-fare, considering the slow movement rate.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn checks to see how many stops the train would make

[Brian]

The train would end up making one stop in each state along the way, were you to take it to Montreal.  Also, one stop in Montreal itself.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn shrugs.  "Good enough," and makes the purchase on his shiny, new, not-quite-unused-but-unused-by-him credit card.

[Brian]

The transaction is processed smoothly, hitching only for a second as you remember to sign 'Jacob Housner' instead of your own name.  You now have tickets, a P.O. Box, and about six hours to kill in Alabama.

[Bjorn]

Not that it matters what I sign.  No one can make out my handwriting anyways.

"Well, priority number one, at this point, is probably letting Relm know the PO box number.  What about checking in to a hotel so you can make a phone call?"

[Rezantis]

"Not much point getting a hotel room, but we could just duck into a 'net cafe. I'm sure there must be one around somewhere . . ."

[Bjorn]

Bjorn shrugs.  "Works for me.  We can look around here, and failing that, hop on a bus for downtown."

[Rezantis]

"Right. Also, turn your mobile off, and it stays off until we're well gone from here.  They can't -pinpoint us-, but they can tell which towers we're close to, which for these purposes is bad enough."

[Bjorn]

"Hm?  Oh."  Bjorn fumbles in his pocket, and produces the cellphone, before putting it back, somewhat sheepishly.  "Moot point.  Forgot to turn it back on after the airplane.  I always do that.  Anyways, let's go find us a net cafe."

[Rezantis]

Rez snickers, and makes sure his own mobile is off, then . . . goes looking for a phone booth (and more importantly, a phone book).