Samira Shen has made a tale-cycle called “The Turning Season.” Asked what it means, she 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.
Sixteen years for Orrery Navarrete, who signs to Life Systems late in the second watch and is given a locker, a sash, and a schedule.
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.
Remembrance day. The memorial wall is polished by hand, though nothing aboard needs polishing less.
A birth in Ring A: Noemí, girl, generation 6. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Arne Ulriksen stands down from Ecology at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Svetlana Shen does not wake in the middle watch. 89 years, most of them given to Fabrication.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 7,843th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
Aisha Pillai, 94, generation 2, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
A second child follows on the night watch: twins for Rania Tväten. This one is called Verne.
Rania Tväten is delivered of a daughter on the first watch. The child is called Safiya.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Yuri Petrov finishes a instrument: “The Borrowed Lantern.” It shows in the commons through the week.
Ulyana Mansour, sixteen, takes the thermal engineer apprenticeship in Life Systems.
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.
Howard Orellana retires at dimming. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Oluwaseun Merriweather finishes a poem: “What the Root Keeps.” It shows in the commons through the week.
Born late in the second watch: Lumen Diallo, generation 6. The ship holds 877 souls tonight.
Sixteen years for Alice Fang, who signs to Life Systems in the middle watch and is given a locker, a sash, and a schedule.
Census check: 876 souls, 156 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
Deneb Yan stands down from Hydroponics at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Two names braided on the manifest tonight: Cedric and Olga. The commons sings late.
Arc Pillai stands down from Life Systems at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
All boards green. I count 876 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Ragnhild Zhao has made a poem called “Signals of the drive gallery.” Asked what it means, she says it means about nine years of evenings.
A birth in Ring B: Rell, boy, generation 6. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
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.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 38,570 days to orbit.
The Crossing feast: more behind than ahead. The long tables come out; the good preserves come down.
Sergei Barakat, 91, generation 3, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
Xiulan Petrov does not wake on the night watch. 88 years, most of them given to Ecology.
After 90 years, Yejide Merriweather has let go. Remembrance in the Ring B commons at next dimming.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Gunhild Mazur, 84. It is little enough.
The council confirms Xenia Shen as Chief of Hydroponics in the middle watch.
Last shift for Gonzalo Jaber, who joined Hydroponics half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
The schools release Dalia Quaye to Hydroponics. Generation 5 takes up its tools.
Chitra Singh retires at dimming. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Renshu Fang chooses Archive & Schools — or it chooses him; the elders disagree cheerfully.
All boards green. I count 879 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Morale index reads 79. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
Last shift for Tessa Ulriksen, who joined Archive & Schools half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
A new instrument from Gunhild Thorvaldsen — “What the Signal Carries.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
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.
The manifest shortens by one: Gopal Ouyang, 90 years. 3 children carry the line on.
Hedda Orellana's crew brings Hydroponics Bays back after 3 days.
Trouble in Hydroponics Bays. The board goes amber; the coffee goes on.
Nora Aaberg and Vasili Sharma name their son Lyra. The nursery lamps stay warm.
First Light. The observation blister queues run all day: Teegarden's Star, held in the eyepiece, a little brighter than last year — 5.11 light-years to go.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 144, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
Two names braided on the manifest tonight: Vicente and Jaya. The commons sings late.