Chapter Text
(illus: d0gteefs)
Prologue
Ira Glass: So a couple weeks ago I ordered some new clothes through a delivery service. Nothing outrageous, really, just a few button-down shirts and a pair of dress slacks from a tailor I like, out near South Knot City. This tailor makes some high-quality stuff, and since it’s almost springtime I figured hey, why not treat myself?
And my package arrived pretty quickly. Took maybe three or four days, reasonable enough. When the porter arrived I thanked her for her help, heaped on some Likes for good measure, and sent her on her way. But after she left and I opened my package, I noticed that the clothes were all soaking wet—I think the cargo container’s waterproof seal must have been damaged somewhere along the journey. And you know, I was not happy about this. Like, sheesh, I haven’t even gotten to wear this stuff yet, and it’s already waterlogged? I was worried that some of the fancier shirts were totally ruined.
Well, good news. My anger was unfounded—the shirts ended up being fine. One round in the wash and they were practically good as new. The slacks were tougher to fix, since they aren’t really supposed to get wet unless you hang them up immediately after, but I managed to smooth out most of the wrinkles... and I have to say, they do look pretty good on me. That tailor really knows her stuff.
But all that time I spent washing and drying and ironing my new clothes gave me some time to meditate on the whole situation, which brought me to a realization: even if the shirts had been ruined completely, I had no right to complain. That porter traveled miles and miles to deliver those items, totally free of charge, and I’m sitting around doing what, making public radio? I don’t have a leg to stand on. My friend and colleague Sarah Koenig, who used to be a producer here on the show, had a similar experience:
Sarah Koenig: I can’t remember exactly what I ordered, but I do recall it was unusually large. Heavy, too. I think it might have been a crate full of books or something.
Anyway, when I finally got my package, it was about a month later than the expected arrival date, so I was already annoyed by that. The cargo container was completely thrashed, too, just totally shredded and falling apart. My porter was exceptionally apologetic, promised me that the next shipment would arrive much faster and in better condition, but I was pretty peeved. So you know, I must have given him some empty thank-you and sent him on his way. But I was not happy about the whole thing.
Then I went to open my package and saw that the cargo container was splattered with rusty brown stains. I thought to myself oh my god, that’s probably his blood! And it hit me that this porter had literally risked his life to deliver this package. Anything less than total and unequivocal gratitude was a massive disservice to the work these people were doing.
Ira Glass: Sarah and I weren’t the only ones to feel this way. This American Life asked its listeners to call in and share their stories about porters, and this is what they said:
Caller 1: My mom used to make me a black forest cake for my birthday every year, but after the Death Stranding we ended up living in different cities. Well, this year she sent me a cake via porter, and lemme tell you, when it arrived it was absolutely pristine. Perfect condition. Not a cherry out of place. Tried to offer the porter a slice, but they politely declined—said they had another delivery to make. Gave ‘em so many Likes for that one that I thought my thumb was gonna fall clean off.
Caller 2: Porters have one of the hardest jobs in the world. Maybe the hardest job in the world. The same porter keeps showing up at my place to bring me packages, and she always looks so tired, like she’s carrying the weight of the society on her shoulders. I guess she is, in a way. Next time I see her I should try doing something nice to thank her. Maybe I’ll knit her a sweater.
Caller 3: I have to confess that I just love a man in uniform. Especially a handsome mailman... it's always been my weakness. So one day when this cute porter showed up with a delivery I was like damn, how can I get him to come back? That's when I hatched a plan: if I ordered a bunch of packages, eventually he'd have to show up again, right?
At first it worked, and the delivery company kept sending the same cute porter to bring me stuff, but then I started feeling bad, you know? He was always so polite, even though he was clearly working himself ragged. I let him know that there was a hot spring nearby he could visit for a little pick-me-up, and wouldn’t you know it, he invited me to come take a dip with him. [GIGGLES] I accepted the offer, obviously, but seeing him without his uniform sorta broke the spell. So after that I stopped making up excuses for deliveries. Next time I think I’ll just buy a sexy calendar instead...
Ira Glass: Okay, I just have to say, that last caller has a pretty unorthodox way of showing gratitude. Still, I think it’s clear that we’re all very appreciative of the work porters do. But let’s face it: how many of us know what really goes on behind the scenes? What’s the delivery process actually like for your average porter?
Getting the mail was one of those things I always took for granted back in the day, just dropping something in a mailbox and knowing it would make its way to the right person, almost like magic. And now in a world full of BTs and MULEs and timefall, with hardly any roads and only a handful of dedicated porters to do the job... somehow this system still works. For every dramatic shift our world has undergone, it seems that society has remained stable in some other crucial way, like a cosmic force equalizing itself in the face of catastrophe.
Well today on our program, we dive headfirst into this strange new world we’ve built and try to make sense of it all. We bring you stories of porters and patients and one very chatty Basset Hound, each doing their darndest to adapt to post-Stranding life. And we ask them: how have some things changed, and how have other things remained utterly, stubbornly, exactly the same? From WBEZ Lake Knot City, it’s This American Life. I’m Ira Glass. Stay with us.
Act One: Mailman, Mailman, Bring Me a Mail
Ira Glass: Act One, Mailman, Mailman, Bring Me a Mail. Okay, so, back to our discussion on porters. If you’re anything like me, then I’m sure you order a lot of items for delivery—maybe not as many as you used to order from Amazon or eBay, of course, back in the days of rampant consumerism—but mail-order services are still holding strong, even after the Death Stranding. It’s certainly easier to have something delivered to you than it is to venture out into the world and risk an encounter with BTs. And especially if you live by yourself, isolated from any major cities, delivery services might be your only lifeline to other human beings.
But most of us have no clue how this system works. We can see it in action, sure, and we know that it does work, or else we wouldn’t be getting packages in the first place. And yet, for most people, it’s a total black box with no way of peering inside.
We wanted to give our listeners a glimpse into that black box. At first we tried to find a porter who’d be willing to come onto our show and speak with us, but it was hard to convince any of them to waste precious daylight doing an interview with us instead of making deliveries. Which, you know, is understandable. Eventually we followed the porters’ chain of command up, up, all the way to the very top, which is where we found Fragile, the current head of Fragile Express.
Fragile used to be an active porter, on the ground making lots of deliveries, but these days she spends more time managing her delivery company—though at this point it’s more like a delivery empire. Fragile was gracious enough to take time out of her busy schedule to sit down with us and answer some questions, and she’s sitting here with me right now.
Fragile: Thank you so much for having me on the show, Ira.
Ira Glass: It’s my pleasure. Can I also just say, we don’t get a whole lot of guests who actually come into our recording studio anymore, so this is very exciting. Unless they’re already living in Lake Knot City, most of our guests prefer to simply join us by phone. But I guess most people don’t have the ability to make jumps through space like you do.
Fragile: [LAUGHS] It does come in handy from time to time.
Ira Glass: Also with us is Sarah Koenig, who we heard from earlier in the show. Sarah was instrumental in putting this story together, since she was the one who got us in touch with Fragile in the first place thanks to her unmatched sleuthing powers. Although, sadly, Sarah is not physically here in the studio today. But we're still thrilled to hear from her anyway.
Sarah Koenig: Sorry, I’m one of the people who’s phoning it in.
Ira Glass: Considering the timefall storms we’ve been having lately, it’s probably for the best that you stayed put. I’m just glad to have you back on the show after so many years.
Sarah Koenig: It’s weird being back. But weird in a good way.
Ira Glass: You know, Fragile, this show wouldn’t even be possible without your help. When we first started up again, after the Stranding, your delivery service was how we were able to get all the equipment we needed to start broadcasting. Those porters brought us a ton of mixing equipment and soundproofing panels and microphones.
Fragile: I'm sure they were happy to help. Quite a few porters at Fragile Express are fans of This American Life, myself included. Your show helps pass the time during those really long trips.
Ira Glass: Well, then this episode is dedicated to all you porters out there. Whether you're up to your elbows in a river or traversing the sheer side of a cliff, thanks for tuning in.
Sarah Koenig: Critics always used to tell me that it would take nothing short of the apocalypse to save broadcast radio. I guess they were right, huh?
Fragile: Radio is timeless! With or without the Death Stranding, I’m sure you would have found a way.
Ira Glass: If we’re talking timelessness here, then you’d know better than anyone else, right? Building a massive delivery empire after a cataclysmic extinction event is no small feat. I don’t know if I should be more impressed with your ingenuity or the longevity of mail delivery as an institution.
Sarah Koenig: My vote is on Fragile’s ingenuity. Mail doesn’t happen without the people who make it happen.
Ira Glass: Okay, good point. Then I also vote for Fragile.
Fragile: You flatter me too much! The porters at Fragile Express deserve your praise, not me. They’re the moving parts that keep our machinery running. And I can’t even take credit for founding the company—that was my father’s doing. I simply inherited the job from him.
Ira Glass: I don’t know what it’s gonna take for you to accept a compliment, Fragile, but we’ll get there eventually. Although that does bring me to the first question I had for you: how exactly did Fragile Express come to be? You said that your father was behind it all, but what compelled him to build a delivery company from the wreckage of society?
Sarah Koenig: Yeah, was your dad a mail carrier before the Stranding?
Fragile: Oh no, not in the slightest. My father was an office worker. He rarely spoke about his old job, though I believe it did have something to do with tracking goods and supplies, just from an accountant’s perspective. He was all numbers and no packages.
But being a mailman, that had always been my father’s boyhood dream. When the world ended, I guess he saw an opportunity to fulfill that dream. I’m just not sure if he expected the whole thing to be so successful.
Ira Glass: So wait, let me get this straight: your father, a pencil pusher with no experience in mail delivery whatsoever, saw the gaping hole where the US Postal System used to be and thought to himself, “Yeah, I bet I could do that”?
Fragile: Well, when you put it that way... yep, that’s pretty much it.
Sarah Koenig: That’s incredible. And he decided to name this venture after his beloved daughter?
Fragile: The other way around, actually. He named his daughter after his beloved delivery venture. [LAUGHS] Some big shoes to fill right there.
Sarah Koenig: See, and here I was thinking that Fragile Express was named after its acting head. Like if Amazon had been named “Jeff.”
Ira Glass: I’m still hung up on the fact that your dad created Fragile Express out of nothing. Like, less than nothing. Early civilizations invented mail delivery thousands of years ago, and we’ve been continually perfecting the model ever since then, but he had to rebuild the whole thing from scratch! And with almost no resources available to him!
It’s almost like, rather than human society coming together to build the mail system, Fragile Express instead used the mail to build another version of human society. Which seems totally impossible to me.
Fragile: It’s funny you should say that, Ira, because I’ve always thought it was the other way around—that the mail makes the culture. Without the bonds forged by mail carriers, you’re too isolated to stand together as a society. At best you end up with several dozen isolated groups, each their own island of culture, communicating only through warfare. Something as simple as package delivery creates a tangible link and unites those people on common ground.
Sarah Koenig: And without that common ground, you can’t form bonds. Or build bridges.
Fragile: Exactly.
Ira Glass: You know, I never thought about it that way before, that the mail system builds society and not vice versa. But it does make sense… our institutions exist to support us, not the other way around.
But that still doesn’t diminish how impressive it is that you and your father created a robust mail system so quickly after a catastrophe that flattened civilization into a pile of rubble. You’ve both done some great work.
Fragile: Thank you, Ira. [SIGHS] I begrudgingly accept your compliment.
Sarah Koenig: Yes!
Ira Glass: [LAUGHS] Finally, we got her!
Sarah Koenig: Hearing about your father’s role in creating Fragile Express has been great, but I’d also love to hear more about your own journey. What was it like to get started running a delivery company?
Fragile: To tell you the truth, I had a pretty rocky start at the top. My father handed me the reins several years ago, shortly before he died, but I didn’t become the official head of Fragile Express until he was gone. And things were shaky at first—I was naive, desperate for guidance, and started running with the wrong crowd. Made some poor choices that almost cost us our reputation. Without help from a few generous souls at BRIDGES, I never would have been able to pull out of that nosedive.
But I’ve been involved in the company for much longer than that. For as long as I can remember, I was always working alongside my father: plotting delivery routes, recruiting new porters, even tagging along with him on trips. He had been hesitant to bring a child with him on the more dangerous treks, until we figured out that I had some… rather useful abilities.
Ira Glass: Now, when you say “abilities,” are you talking about having DOOMS? I hope that’s not rude of me to ask.
Fragile: It’s not rude at all. And I do mean DOOMS, but we didn’t have a name for it back then. We just thought it was an odd quirk that I’d always start tearing up whenever there were BTs nearby. Something between a coincidence and a sixth sense. It saved our hides more than once—like my father’s own little bridge baby!
But I wasn’t the only one who could sense BTs. I actually think most of our porters have DOOMS to some degree, even if they don’t know it. Something about the condition draws people to our line of work. Though I was the only one who could make jumps through space...
Sarah Koenig: Do you mean literally jumping from point A to B? Or is it more like teleporting?
Fragile: That’s kind of hard to explain. It might be easier to show you instead. Hold on for just a moment.
[BOOMING NOISE]
[EQUIPMENT RATTLES]
Ira Glass: Hey, where’d you go?
Sarah Koenig: Oh my god, Fragile!
Fragile: [MUFFLED] I’m here in the studio with Sarah now. Hi, Sarah!
Ira Glass: Sarah, can you take a second and describe what just happened for our listeners?
Sarah Koenig: I-I’m not sure I can. Give me a moment to pick up my jaw off the floor.
Okay, so, the best I can explain is that there was a noise like a thunderclap, and then the air seemed to shimmer and rip itself half, and then Fragile was here in the studio with me. This all happened in less than a second. Not quite instantaneous, but almost. Really, she just sort of... appeared.
Ira Glass: From my end it was pretty much the same thing, only in reverse.
Fragile: [MUFFLED] I would jump back to you, Ira, but I need some time to recharge. These jumps take a lot out of me.
Sarah Koenig: Oh, here—I’ll get you set up with a mic real quick. I wasn’t expecting visitors, but I’ve got plenty of stuff lying around my place. Give me just one second.
[RUSTLING]
Sarah Koenig: Okay, try that out. You should be good to go.
Fragile: Testing, testing, one two three...
Ira Glass: That’s much better. I can hear you loud and clear.
Sarah Koenig: So, uh, Fragile... I think I see why that would come in handy as a porter. Your journey must be a lot safer when you can instantly jump to your delivery destination with a package in hand.
Fragile: Actually, I can’t bring much with me during a jump. Every now and then I can take something small, like a vial of medicine or a piece of jewelry, but large deliveries are out of the question. I normally have to concentrate to just bring the clothes on my back!
Ira Glass: Oh, no! I hope you didn't find that out the hard way.
Fragile: I did, of course. [LAUGHS] But I certainly learned my lesson.
Sarah Koenig: There have to be other ways it would be useful, right? Like, could you deliver an item on foot, and then just warp back home?
Fragile: Sometimes. I can jump to skip the return trip if I don’t have any deliveries on the way back—although with the way our routes are drawn up, it’s more efficient to make a two-way trip. And jumping is a useful last resort if I get ambushed by BTs, but I’ll lose any cargo in the process.
I’m afraid the real answer is much less exciting: being able to jump has been vital for the administrative side of Fragile Express.
Ira Glass: Wait, you use your magical jumping powers for admin jobs? How does that even work?
Fragile: See, back before the chiral network was so widespread, the only reliable way to get in touch with our porters was to physically track them down. So we had a massive communication problem—I’d have to send one porter to chase down another porter, then send a third porter to chase after that porter, and so on. Took me way too long to realize that I could just relay those messages myself. Much faster when I jump to a delivery hub with an order slip and ask “Okay, any questions before you head out?”
Thankfully the chiral network has made things much easier, but I still try to meet with all my porters as often as I can. It helps keep morale up.
Ira Glass: So you really are the glue that keeps Fragile Express together, huh?
Sarah Koenig: Like a human email server, only without the attachments.
Fragile: I’ve never thought of it that way... but I do like the comparison.
Sarah Koenig: Speaking of admin work, that leads us right into my question: where do you find all of the resources to keep Fragile Express up and running? Do you ever face supply shortages? Or have trouble recruiting new porters?
Fragile: Surprisingly, not at all. Sometimes it can be difficult to track down specific items, given how scattered our world has become, but for the most part we haven’t run into any major issues. The UCA offers us plenty of assistance when we need it, and ordinary civilians have done just as much to help. You wouldn’t believe how many people will offer our porters a place to sleep or a hearty meal. Once I delivered a package to some prepper up in the mountains, way out in the middle of nowhere, and she was so pleased that she gave me a hand-knit sweater.
Ira Glass: Suddenly I feel like I’m not doing enough to thank my porters. I need to take it up a notch.
Fragile: Not at all, Ira. A heartfelt thank you and some Likes are more than enough.
And as for recruiting porters—that’s never been an issue in the slightest. We have people signing up left and right to make deliveries, especially with advancements in the chiral network. Word travels fast these days. If anything, the hardest part is getting my porters to stop making deliveries and take some time for themselves.
Sarah Koenig: What, do you force them to take vacation days?
Fragile: You joke, but I do! Porter syndrome is a real threat. Too many deliveries in a row and they start to get hooked on the thrill of a job well done. I’ve come dangerously close myself. So when our porters start looking a little shifty, I send them off to a hot spring for some mandatory R&R. No MULEs on my watch!
Sarah Koenig: [LAUGHS] Damn, I wish my boss was that nice...
Ira Glass: If that was a jab at me, Sarah, then I should remind you that I haven’t been your boss in years. But I do agree. We could all use a boss like Fragile.
Fragile: Really, I’m just doing the bare minimum!
Ira Glass: Come on, we all know that’s not true. Fragile Express has always gone above and beyond, whether you’re making deliveries or just taking care of your own people.
Fragile: Once again, you flatter me, Ira. But it’s not always picture perfect. Even with support from the UCA and advancements in the chiral network, we still have a wide margin of error for delivery rates. We do our best, but... not every package makes it to its destination. And when it does, it’s not always in one piece. Or on time.
Sarah Koenig: I mean, it’s totally understandable if a package gets lost or delayed. You guys go through hell to make deliveries and don’t even charge a dime.
Fragile: Of course. We’ve never asked for any kind of money or compensation.
Sarah Koenig: Now, just a quick note here for any listeners who are too young to remember: money is what we called those little pieces of paper we used to exchange for goods and services. You know, back before the Stranding.
Ira Glass: [GROANS] Well now I feel like a total dinosaur. To think kids these days might not even know what money is... the world really has changed, hasn’t it?
Sarah Koenig: If it makes you feel any better, Ira, then I’m just a slightly younger dinosaur. The meteor’s coming for us both.
Fragile: You two already survived a mass extinction. That makes you mammals, not dinosaurs!
Ira Glass: Like, money was absolutely everything. Money was the thing we always had to beg our listeners to donate whenever our federal funding got slashed, remember?
Sarah Koenig: Believe me, I remember. And I don’t miss it. That's one good thing to come out of the Death Stranding—no more pledge drives. The UCA gives us all the support we need nowadays.
Ira Glass: I just... it's crazy to think that we managed to reach that utopian ideal, actually creating a world without money, and all it took was the apocalypse. Talk about rising from the ashes.
Sarah Koenig: You’ve always been the optimist between us, Ira. But I think you might be right. Anyway, I’m sorry to take us so far off topic. Fragile doesn’t need to hear us bellyaching about our golden years.
Fragile: It's no trouble at all, Sarah. I always enjoy hearing stories of life before the Stranding. Makes me wish I’d been there to see it myself.
Ira Glass: [LAUGHS] That’s the most polite way anyone's ever called me “old” before. So thank you for that.
Fragile: I’m serious! I’d love to hear more from you and Sarah about the differences between pre- and post-Stranding life. Aside from the obvious things, of course.
Sarah Koenig: What, like BTs?
Fragile: Exactly. Or timefall.
Ira Glass: You know, that’s a great question, actually. But I don’t even know where to start.
Sarah Koenig: Well, let me pose a slightly different question: do you think your life got better or worse after the Death Stranding?
Ira Glass: Huh, you know... I've never actually thought about it.
Sarah Koenig: Really?
Ira Glass: I mean, not consciously at least. The obvious answer would be of course my life is worse! We pretty much lived through the apocalypse!
Sarah Koenig: If you put it like that, then sure. Seems like a negative.
Ira Glass: But I don't know... is my life actually worse now? I think my main takeaway is that I just miss stuff from the old days. You know what I mean?
Sarah Koenig: Of course. Like my cell phone. [LAUGHS] Or being able to order takeout whenever I wanted, or watching crummy reality TV.
Ira Glass: God, I do miss the crummy reality TV. We gotta bring that back. Maybe the Real Housewives of Capital Knot City.
Fragile: One of our delivery clients is a rather prolific filmmaker. Perhaps I can put you two in touch?
Ira Glass: If this radio thing doesn’t work out, I will definitely take you up on that.
Sarah Koenig: You didn’t answer my question, though.
Ira Glass: You didn’t answer it either! Tell me, do you think your life is worse?
Sarah Koenig: I don’t, personally. A lot of things in my life are better now. Like you said: no money, no mortgage, no overbearing boss named Ira...
Ira Glass: Hey!
Sarah Koenig: No, but seriously. Things are still hard these days, obviously, but a lot of the misery and drudgery of our old lives just disappeared. I don’t miss the crowded streets or the bloated corporations or the unmitigated human suffering on every corner.
Ira Glass: I get your point. But things weren’t all bad, right? We had plenty of good in the world back then, too.
Sarah Koenig: That’s true. If anything, I think the Stranding wiped out a lot of things that were bogging down the fundamental goodness of humanity. All we have now is each other, and we have to work together to survive. Maybe even thrive.
Ira Glass: And groups like Fragile Express have played a huge part in that—they embody everything positive about the human spirit, our resilience and our dedication to helping one another.
Fragile: It’s not just me. It’s all of us. We’re building this new world together.
Sarah Koenig: Then we’re in good company, aren’t we?
Ira Glass: Fragile, it’s been great having you on our show, but we’re almost out of time here. Just one last question to wrap things up: what’s the strangest thing delivery request you’ve ever received?
Fragile: Well, we get a lot of requests for things that I probably can’t discuss on the radio. But honestly, the strangest request we’ve ever gotten was one guy who ordered a pizza.
Ira Glass: Did you honor his request?
Fragile: Of course!
[MUSIC - “I’M GONNA BE (500 MILES)” BY THE PROCLAIMERS]
[SINGING] But I would walk five hundred miles, and I would walk five hundred more, just to be the man who walks a thousand miles to fall down at your door...
Ira Glass: Up next: making the most of a bad situation isn’t always easy. But to some sufferers of this rare and poorly-understood medical condition, they see their affliction as a superpower, not a burden—even when that superpower involves visions of shambling atrocities. That’s coming up, when our program continues.