Magistra Vellini

I walked swiftly down the street. It was the same street I’d walked a million times over, but never with such fear. Train had offered to come with me, but I’d declined. It was a place I had to go alone.
I hadn’t spoken to her in years, and I wasn’t even sure she was alive… or safe. But I had to try. She was our last hope, and she wasn’t even a scientist.
“Oh, Frances! How are you?” Magistra Vellini’s red lips parted in a smile. “I’ve just fixed lunch; come in.”
My shoes tracked mud on her clean carpet and I watched her wince.
“This isn’t a social visit, Magistra—”
“Oh?” She asked indifferently as she turned the corner.
“I didn’t want to get you mixed up in all this—”
“Didn’t you?” She called. Magistra peeked her head around the corner. “You want my ship, don’t you?”
I exhaled in disbelief.
“Let me see. My granddaughter, who hasn’t contacted me since she was six, shows up at my front door, tracks mud on my carpet, and asks to borrow my rocket?”
I nodded.
“That,” she smiled. “Is how it’s done.”

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