Drift Valdivia has made a song called “Anchors of the orchard.” Asked what it means, he says it means about nine years of evenings.
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 child in Ring A asks the corridor speaker what Earth smelled like. I play the rainstorm recording. It is the best answer I have.
Sixty-eight years: Verne Fang hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring C stands ready.
All boards green. I count 935 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Drive hums again. Tarun Quill is stood a round of orchard cider by the off-shift.
Remembrance. All names read since the last one — held in silence in every ring at the same hour. I keep the lights low until it is done.
Trouble in Drive. The board goes amber; the coffee goes on.
Sixty-eight years: Sanjay Zhao hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring B stands ready.
Hakim Thorvaldsen retires on the first watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Sixty-eight years: Enlai Thorvaldsen hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
Sixty-eight years: Deepika Pillai hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring C stands ready.
Safiya Ouyang stands down from Fabrication at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
First watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
Wenling Valdivia, 98, generation 2, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
After 85 years, Yaling Zhao has let go. Remembrance in the Ring D commons at next dimming.
Last shift for Edmund Jaber, who joined Fabrication half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
A joining in Ring B: Martin Sharma and Yusheng Quill. The pressing of cider is authorized.
Chunhua Sharma's crew brings Water Reclamation back after 2 weeks.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 42,139 days to orbit.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 42,149 days to orbit.
Radhika Nwosu does not wake late in the second watch. 82 years, most of them given to Ecology.
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.
Water Reclamation goes down. I reroute what can be rerouted and wake who must be woken.
Ghada Aaberg stands down from Fabrication at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Sixty-eight years: Mateo Ashworth hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring B stands ready.
Kwame Zhao stands down from Hydroponics at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
After 64 years, Iris Jaber has let go. Remembrance in the Ring D commons at next dimming.
The manifest shortens by one: Yash Salazar, 93 years. 4 children carry the line on.
5.68 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 39,649 thousand to go.
A child in Ring A asks the corridor speaker what Earth smelled like. I play the rainstorm recording. It is the best answer I have.
Wei Fang and Maja Tväten, joined. Their quarters are re-assigned adjoining, per custom.
Nicolás Shen stands down from Ecology at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Nandini Pillai died in quarters on the first watch, 91 years old. 940 souls aboard.
After 83 years, Lev Peng has let go. Remembrance in the Ring D commons at next dimming.
Morale index reads 84. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
Sixty-eight years: Torsten Shen hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring B stands ready.
The manifest shortens by one: Howard Quill, 83 years. 1 children carry the line on.
All boards green. I count 943 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 134, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
Sixty-eight years: Magnus Thorvaldsen hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring C stands ready.
The Crossing. Every year it is observed, and every year someone stands to say the second half is the harder, and is booed warmly.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
A son, Adewale Valdivia, born in the Ring D infirmary to Freya Valdivia and Nneka Diallo. Mother and child are well.
A first shift for Gyre Valdivia, sixteen: pollinator keeper, Ecology. The badge is printed fresh.
Oscar Petrov coaxes a new bread yeast from the orchard air. The proof is in the mess by morning.
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.
Middle watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
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.
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.
A birth in Ring B: Renshu, boy, generation 5. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.