[chapter six: admin]

Mai: 1345 hours, Saturn V admin corridors 

I usually considered myself a reasonable person, to be measured and practical, but given the circumstances I figured I could be granted the small mercy of not being one right at this precise moment. It wasn't easy being Mum. I'd learned that a while ago, or at least, it felt like a while ago now. However, just because it wasn't easy for me didn't mean the responsibility could fall to someone else, if I ignore it, it wouldn't simply go away. That was the thing about being the oldest: if I didn't do it, it simply wouldn't get done. No one else was going to step in. Even if they wanted to no one else knew how to. 

I sat stiffly in one of the worn chairs outside the admin offices of the Saturn V, knees bouncing, arms folded too tightly across my chest, trying to ignore the dull ache in my shoulders and the sharp edge of anxiety scraping the inside of my ribs. I hated appointments, discussing the family's future as if I alone at twenty-four had all the answers. I kept waiting to feel ready, to feel like I was the kind of person who could handle this, the sort of person who could keep all the plates spinning at once, but it hadn't come yet. 

I wondered - not for the first time - how Mum had done it. How she'd kept us all in line, balanced, fed, safe and most importantly together. Together – that was something I'd already failed at. I wished I could ask her, just for a moment, just one question, one breath of guidance, but I already knew what she'd say: Sometimes you have to let kids make mistakes so they can learn. 

I closed my eyes, tipping my head back against the cool wall feel the cushion of my hair slowly cool the pounding in my skull. Around me the ship thrummed, a deep, mechanical, hum that had become so familiar it almost felt like a heartbeat. Letting kids make mistakes sounded fine in theory. It sounded mature, responsible, realistic, but this wasn't about scraped knees or puking up one too many Jammie Dodgers anymore. This was war, and now, a mistake wasn't something you could laugh about at dinner. It was a decision that determined whether the next time all four of us were in a room together, it would be for a reunion… or a funeral. 

"Warner, Mai," a woman's voice called out. I looked up and saw a woman with blonde hair leaning out of one of the doors. I stood up out of my waiting chair and walked across to her giving her a warm smile. 

She nodded to me and closed the office door behind us. The room was meticulously organized, sleek and minimalist, clearly designed to convey competence without the expense of personality. A wide dark wood desk dominated the centre of the room and the blonde-haired woman took a seat behind it. The desk's surface was clean, almost sterile in its barrenness apart from a notebook, stylus, and a small, engraved nameplate that read Laurens. 

Behind the desk stood a wall-length display screen that was currently shifting between a scrapbook of star maps, personnel files, and notes ready to provide information at the slightest touch and moment's notice. Two guest chairs faced the desk, designed to look comforting but as I took my seat in one turned out to be slightly firm - a subtle cue that I took to mean outsiders here weren't meant to linger. The seat to my right sat empty as if a stark reminder that it was me alone in this position. It made the office walls feel further away that before, as if I was in the spotlight of some grand court room. The lighting was a little too soft, as if ready to cushion the blow of some news or information, it contrasted with the well-lit MedBay I was used to and something about that made me feel uneasy. 

"I understand you have an appointment to discuss the status of your family with ourselves?" 

I nodded trying to quell the unsure swell in my gut. "Yes, that's right, I want to talk about my sister." 

The blonde woman – Laurens – swiped through her notes skim reading down her files. 

"And you are your sibling's guardian is that correct?" 

"Yes," I nodded again wondering if I looked like the sort of person who could be deemed a legal guardian. "Yes, I have been since arriving on the Saturn V." 

There was another agonising pause as she read through her notes. 

"The status of your sister, would that be Ruby Grace Warner?" 

"No," I shook my head feeling foolish immediately that I had simply said sister, after all there were four of us, I felt colour flood my cheeks and tried to force it down by adjusting my glasses. "No, I mean Judith Avery Warner." 

I waited in silence again for another moment before the woman set her notes down and leaned her elbows on the desk in a way which made me feel like I had to sit up straighter. 

"I'm sorry," she said, although she didn't sound it in the slightest, "but I cannot help you with your query." 

"What?" Was I missing something obvious? Confusion and the embarrassment that I was being stupid immediately flooded my brain, but in my concern came another worry that I'd come off rude and I quickly backtracked. "I mean, why? You don't even know what my query is yet?" 

"Well Ma'am," said Laurens with a practised patience that clearly came with handling things like this frequently. "As your sister is over eighteen, unfortunately I can't disclose any information about her to yourself." 

"I'm her guardian though," I folded and unfolded my hands in my lap a couple of times worriedly. "I'm her sister I mean I need to know where she is, what she's doing." 

"She's legally an adult in the eyes of the law Ma'am," Laurens put away her notes as if to signal that there was no further discussion to be had. "Her information and data are only available to her." 

"But she was called up," I explained quickly, "she's not here to access her records. I mean how is anyone supposed to find out anything about their loved ones?" 

Laurens merely cleaned a small spot of dirt off of her desk. "I'm sorry Ma'am," she said simply wiping down the corner as she spoke, "but that's the rules." 

I sank back into my seat feeling defeated. "Okay," I murmured after a long moment of silence, "thank you for all your help today." 

"That's no problem Ma'am." 

It was a problem though, it was a problem I was still without answers, it was a problem I could access information about my family, it was a problem I couldn't do my role; I couldn't keep everyone safe. As I clearly had made signs that I was planning on leaving rapidly enough for her liking she held the door open for me and I raised myself out of the slightly too firm chairs to make my quick exit. The office was designed for that, a soft rebuttal and a turnover to the next citizen who came seeking advice. As I walked back down the hall I was hit with the weight of a sinking feeling. The question 'what do I do now?' felt sedentary in my mind. Without Jude here to access her own information and without any idea of when she'd be back how could I hope to clear up this mess? As I made my way down the hallway, I heard her call another name behind me. Despite the brightly lit nature of the admin quarters themselves I couldn't help but feel as though a cloud was hanging over the little row of chairs in the waiting area, all of them occupied with people like myself. 

I wondered for a moment if this was how everyone on the Saturn V felt. 

As if they were in the dark.