A son, Renshu Fang, born in the Ring A infirmary to Oksana Fang and Drift Barakat. Mother and child are well.
The Ship’s Log
Everything NOR has recorded since departure — the full record, newest first. One day aboard passes every hour of Earth time.
6.05 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 42,176 thousand to go.
Tarun Kong died in quarters late in the second watch, 62 years old, once sanitation engineer. 949 souls aboard.
Census check: 950 souls, 118 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 44,453 days to orbit.
A child in Ring C asks the corridor speaker what Earth smelled like. I play the rainstorm recording. It is the best answer I have.
Vernon Aaberg does not wake late in the second watch. 88 years, most of them given to Ecology.
Maintenance sweep of Ring B complete. Somewhere aft a wrench is missing; it will surface in a decade, in a wall, with a story attached.
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 Light. The observation blister queues run all day: Teegarden's Star, held in the eyepiece, a little brighter than last year — 6.06 light-years to go.
Fernanda Petrov does not wake on the first watch. 71 years, most of them given to Fabrication.
Bhaskar Petrov does not wake on the first watch. 93 years, most of them given to Hydroponics.
Census check: 953 souls, 118 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
First watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
Middle watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
“What the Lantern Grows,” a song by Salvador Peng, is unveiled on the first watch to the particular applause of Drive.
Last shift for Yuri Aaberg, who joined Medical half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Too soon, at 49: Node Mansour. The commons fills late in the second watch with those who knew her.
Cygnet Pemberton retires on the first watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Ylva Aaberg does not wake in the middle watch. 94 years, most of them given to Command.
Albert Sharma charts the dust gradient ahead — the star's outer environs, thinning to meet us.
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.
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.
Hanan Mansour stands down from Life Systems at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Sojourn Nwosu is delivered of a son at dimming. The child is called Stanley.
Census check: 954 souls, 117 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
Last shift for Gunhild Mazur, who joined Hydroponics half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Divya Aaberg retires late in the second watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Last shift for Aster Kowalczyk, who joined Hydroponics half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 1,727th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
Maintenance sweep of Ring B complete. Somewhere aft a wrench is missing; it will surface in a decade, in a wall, with a story attached.
Babatunde Kowalczyk, 63, generation 2, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Year 128 of the voyage begins. The oldest bottle of orchard wine that can be spared is opened. It is always described as "improving."
Last shift for Ion Thorvaldsen, who joined Hydroponics half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
A new mural from Lev Diallo — “Orchard for the Green Engine.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
Sarala Quill is delivered of a daughter in the middle watch. The child is called Unn.
Juniper Jaber, sixteen, takes the irrigation tech apprenticeship in Hydroponics.
A birth in Ring C: Lyra, boy, generation 5. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Jamal Aaberg stands the walk of the full spinal corridor, as the sixteen-year custom is, and joins Medical.
Aleksandr Aaberg retires in the middle watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
All boards green. I count 953 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Sixty-eight years: Tatiana Navarrete hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring A stands ready.
Lubna Fang retires in the middle watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
A son, Vega Yan, born in the Ring B infirmary to Ada Yan and Leonard Barakat. Mother and child are well.
Remembrance day. The memorial wall is polished by hand, though nothing aboard needs polishing less.
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.
The manifest shortens by one: Nnamdi Sharma, 79 years. 1 children carry the line on.
6.09 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 42,582 thousand to go.
The circle has answered. No deferrals. The ship chooses more voices in the corridors and sharper eyes on the gauges.