Census check: 858 souls, 201 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
The Ship’s Log
Everything NOR has recorded since departure — the full record, newest first. One day aboard passes every hour of Earth time.
A son, Ghassan Fang, born in the Ring B infirmary to Umbra Fang and Ravindra Nwosu. Mother and child are well.
The schools release Altair Nwosu to Drive. Generation 6 takes up its tools.
Morale index reads 78. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
Polina Quill died in quarters at brightening, 94 years old. 857 souls aboard.
Hydroponics Bays hums again. Boreal Quill is stood a round of orchard cider by the off-shift.
Sixteen years for Gantry Peng, who signs to Drive on the first watch and is given a locker, a sash, and a schedule.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Ekundayo Navarrete, 79. It is little enough.
Hydroponics Bays faults in the middle watch. Hydroponics takes the call.
After 60 years, Widad Shen has let go. Remembrance in the Ring D commons at next dimming.
After 86 years, Fathom Shen has let go. Remembrance in the Ring A commons at next dimming.
Born at brightening: Erik Ulriksen, generation 7. The ship holds 861 souls tonight.
A first shift for Ifeoma Thorvaldsen, sixteen: sanitation engineer, Life Systems. The badge is printed fresh.
The schools release Yueqin Aaberg to Drive. Generation 6 takes up its tools.
A child in Ring B asks the corridor speaker what Earth smelled like. I play the rainstorm recording. It is the best answer I have.
Sixteen years for Zaid Aaberg, who signs to Ecology late in the second watch and is given a locker, a sash, and a schedule.
First Light. The observation blister queues run all day: Teegarden's Star, held in the eyepiece, a little brighter than last year — 2.73 light-years to go.
Middle watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
Sixteen years for Ulf Petrov, who signs to Ecology at dimming and is given a locker, a sash, and a schedule.
Chief of Ecology falls to Nandini Quill, who accepts with a nod and a full docket.
Samira Fang chooses Command — or it chooses her; the elders disagree cheerfully.
Signe Nwosu retires on the night watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
First watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 184, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
Census check: 860 souls, 206 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
Helm Petrov, 93, generation 4, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 4,250th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
A birth in Ring C: Svetlana, girl, generation 7. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Nils Aaberg finishes a poem: “Furrows of Ring A.” It shows in the commons through the week.
Maintenance sweep of Ring A complete. Somewhere aft a wrench is missing; it will surface in a decade, in a wall, with a story attached.
Night watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
A wedding at dimming. Arc Ouyang, Medical; Tern Shen, Command. The ship approves in its way: the lights held steady throughout.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Dmitri Tväten, 84. It is little enough.
“The Patient Engine,” a song by Quill Petrov, is unveiled on the night watch to the particular applause of Medical.
Sable Navarrete stands the walk of the full spinal corridor, as the sixteen-year custom is, and joins Life Systems.
Middle watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
Sixty-eight years: Gantry Navarrete hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring B stands ready.
I compare today's star field against day one's. The constellations have begun, very slightly, to come apart. Nobody else will look; that is what I am for.
First watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Maintenance sweep of Ring C complete. Somewhere aft a wrench is missing; it will surface in a decade, in a wall, with a story attached.
Deneb Navarrete retires on the night watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Eos Valdivia and Nils Jaber name their son Keel. The nursery lamps stay warm.
Departure Day, year 184. The founders' roll is read from the first name to the thousandth, and the young ones try to stay solemn.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Jamila Fang, 89. It is little enough.
The youngest aboard is now Node Ouyang, minutes old, asleep. 861 souls.
Bjorn Barakat, 91, generation 4, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
A second child follows on the night watch: twins for Meera Jaber. This one is called Daisy.
A birth in Ring B: Pallas, boy, generation 7. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Green across the board: Atmosphere Processing holds after 1 weeks of work. Spares were spent; Fabrication is notified.