Tiriana wasn’t kidding when she told Miliam that Abigail was ‘on her way’ despite having just gotten off the call with her. According to Tiriana, for her to have arrived as quickly as she did, she must have departed within minutes and chartered a private shuttle rather than using public transport. Within a couple of hours Abigail was requesting entry from the station side of their docking arm.

When she stepped into the galley- rapidly becoming the primary meeting room on the ship- Miliam beheld a woman that was five feet tall at the highest, with average looks but striking albino features. It was hard to tell given that her robes were so voluminous, but she seemed a bit on the chubby side as well. There was intelligence and focus in her eyes though, and she carried herself with an enviable confidence perhaps bordering on arrogance.

For the first time, Miliam also got a look at the high-quality clothes Aoibhe had told her about. Abigail’s black and gray robes were of obvious quality, thick and sturdy but also smoothly weaved and made of silk if she were to hazard a guess. The ends of the sleeves were wide and loose, with ideograms Miliam recognized stitched into them- possibly gold, maybe even orichalcum. They might have actually been functional spell circles. More ideograms ran down the center, starting at her waist and trailing down and around the lower hem. A thick, knotted cord of golden fabric completed the look, clasping the robes shut below the waist.

“Abigail Carter,” she said as an introduction, bowing slightly. “I must beg your pardon for skipping straight to business, but I am told you have both a story and an artifact for me, miss…?”

“Ah, Miliam. How much has she told you?”

“Very little, I fear. I have been informed it would be best to hear what you have to say directly.”

So, Miliam told her story. It really wasn’t that long, truth be told- the sheer strangeness of it was the difficulty. Abigail stared into Miliam’s eyes with an unchanging expression the entire time she spoke, simply soaking in the details without interrupting to ask questions. It wasn’t until Miliam finished describing the events prior to arriving at West Gate that Abigail spoke.

“Judging by the way you describe events, I can only surmise you are truthful about your origins,” she concluded decisively. “Your manner of speaking regarding magic and its associated technologies betrays a complete lack of familiarity with the topic that not even an independent colonist would possess. So, we shall skip straight to the salient point. May I examine the spell you performed?”

“Sure! Just let me find it really quick,” Miliam said, opening the book Aoibhe had placed on the table before she arrived. She flipped through the pages quickly but carefully, mindful of potential damage, and spun the tome around to show it to Abigail after finding the correct page. Abigail examined the page carefully, lifting it up and glancing at the reverse side before returning to the actual spell. She traced her finger along the variables Miliam had filled in with ink.

“Fascinating…I suspect I have already determined a possible cause for the incident, although further analysis of the spells involved will be necessary.”

“Already!?” Miliam exclaimed in surprise.

“If anything, I’m surprised she wasn’t able to read the spells on the spot,” Aoibhe commented dryly, to which Abigail merely raised an eyebrow.

“Indeed. Aoibhe’s overly optimistic view of my capabilities aside, my evaluation has little to do with my reading of the magics involved. What I could ascertain immediately is that the spells were written on a material meant to impede mana using a mana-infused ink, which would have allowed a person to cast any spell written with it without the ability to comprehend it so long as the writer imbued their writing with their own understanding of the spell. A common technique used in modern enchantments. Might you have a guess as to why we use carved metal instead of ink, though?”

“Well…metal is a lot more sturdy, right?” Miliam guessed, somewhat lost in Abigail’s verbose explanation.

“Indeed, that plays a part. However, the primary issue here is that the features of the medium itself have degraded. In addition, the ink you utilized was likely corrosive to the page. The variables you filled in modified the spell on the reverse side, and when you injected mana into your intended spell, the other also activated as a direct result,” Abigail explained while holding up the book, showing Miliam how light seeped through the pages and the spots where ink had bled through. “Mind you, I cannot read either spell without placing some amount of effort into deciphering the text, so any final conclusions must be postponed until I may do so.”

“How long do you think that will take?” Aoibhe asked, leaning forward onto her elbows.

“No longer than the repairs to your ship, and largely because I have additional loose ends to wrap up alongside performing the work itself,” Abigail said, closing the book.

“Loose ends? Are you going somewhere?” Aoibhe cocked her head to the side in curiosity.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Perhaps. We shall discuss it when you again possess a functional vessel. Suffice to say that I may have a request to make of you before you depart. Now, I do believe we should discuss payment. Will this prove sufficient?” Abigail slipped a chit forward, which Aoibhe scanned with her grimoire before showing the number to Miliam; two and a half million reserves. It was quite a lot of money, although it fell a large percentage short of what a full repair would require.

“We both know this is far below the value of a book this old and this intact,” Aoibhe said coolly before Miliam could comment. Abigail showed no reaction to the accusation on her face, but held up a hand.

“You may cease the attempt at negotiating; I am, unfortunately, not authorized to give you a better offer. What you see was the entire stipend I was provided for this purchase, and I already determined proposing anything less than the full value available would be insulting. If this results in you instead taking this artifact to auction, it would be regrettable, but I am still amenable to providing my services in analyzing the spells of interest in exchange for a complete imaging of the contents,” Abigail said, cutting off Aoibhe’s attempt at raising the price.

“Is it even worth selling to her if we’d get that much more in an auction?” Miliam asked. The price seemed like quite a lot of money to her, even if it was less than the value of the repairs they needed.

“…aye, we likely have no real choice. It’s your book and your decision. But auctions take time to set up. The word needs to go out to potential buyers, and they need time to get the money together and make the trip here.”

“Even then, the theoretical value of an artifact may not match up with its practical value. I would project that you are almost guaranteed to receive twice my offer if you take the tome to auction, but anything further would be speculation.”

Miliam thought for a moment about Aoibhe and Abigail’s responses. She had a few different factors at play here. The absolute value she might receive from an auction was probably enough to retire on if she lived carefully- something she could ask for clarification about. The problem was that she lacked a modern education and citizenship. To get the latter, she needed work experience, which would require the former.

Some part of her would be a bit embarrassed to get the Gaian Collective equivalent of a GED, particularly since she would have to find adult high school classes first. It was hard to say how long that would take; she had a Bachelor’s Degree, yes, but that didn’t guarantee she knew enough to pass those courses quickly after so much had changed. That would delay citizenship by an unknown amount, which had its own ramifications.

No citizenship didn’t just mean no access to a social safety net, although that did concern her. Miliam’s larger worry was her immigration status. If the situation changed and she were deported, she would have literally nowhere to go and nothing to fall back on. Even the money may not mean much outside the GC. Would she even be comfortable living on an independent colony, which didn’t seem to be looked on very fondly here?

Even laying all of those factors aside, it assumed she would take home 100% of the earnings. Some would go to the auction house, obviously, but Miliam simply would not be comfortable leaving Aoibhe with nothing. The book was Miliam’s, but Aoibhe had done a lot for her, albeit with some amount of self-interest involved.

“Before I make a decision, I need to know how far that money would go,” Miliam told the other women. Aoibhe leaned back in her seat as she considered the question; Abigail seemed content to let Aoibhe do the talking. Probably because she could be seen as biased, here.

“It definitely depends on where you’d be living,” Aoibhe said at last, “and the better the quality of life there, the less your money is going to be worth. If you’re smart, and the economy doesn’t tank, it’s probably enough to last the rest of your life, but I’d be worried about healthcare until you managed to get citizenship.”

“And how much would a used corvette cost?” Miliam asked next, knowing a new one was out of the question.

“A junker, not much better than the one we’re on, would probably be…close to an eight digit figure. Could maybe go as low as eight million reserves, but we’d be looking at a fixer-upper. Prices might edge up to the tens of millions for the newest models, but it all depends on the features,” Aoibhe explained, pulling up a few examples on her grimoire for Miliam’s benefit.

“Didn’t you say we’d be better off buying a new ship when we spoke to the mechanic?” Miliam asked, recalling the conversation from yesterday. The full repairs had been quoted at a number a bit higher than a well-used corvette, and far below a new one.

“Aye, because patching her up only partially is going to mean ongoing costs. It’s not just the price upfront, but the long term costs as other systems break down and need to be replaced, and the strain the old components can place on the newer ones,” Aoibhe explained. Miliam, having owned an old car once, immediately saw the parallels.

“…I’ll sell it to Abigail,” she decided, looking directly into her ruby-red eyes. “I don’t want to lose the ship, and you said before you wouldn’t be able to afford the docking fees long enough for an auction to take place. I think selling the book now and repairing the ship with the money is the option with the least uncertainties.”

“Excellent,” Abigail said in satisfaction, a very small smile gracing her lips for the first time since she’d arrived. “I will, of course, need to prepare a written agreement for us both to sign, and you are free to use that time to perform your own research regarding the information you have been provided. I would hate for you to suspect Aoibhe and I of colluding due to our prior associations.”

“I trust Aoibhe, but I probably don’t have anything better to do right now, so maybe I’ll do that. So, uh, what do we do with the book right now?” Miliam glanced between Abigail and the grimoire uncertainly, having never taken part in a transaction like this before.

“It will remain in your custody until an agreement is formally signed. I shall contact my superior to inform him of your decision and he will liaise with the proper authorities to finalize the acquisition.” Abigail stood and gave another small bow before leaving, with Aoibhe following to see her out.

Miliam slumped down in her chair and let out a sigh as soon as they were out of earshot. That had been a bit nerve wracking. It was impossible to know if that was the right decision, and she definitely wasn’t certain it was the wisest one, but she couldn’t deny her excitement at the prospect of using her very own starship to explore the galaxy.

Or at least a small corner of it.