Comms Array faults in the middle watch. Command takes the call.
The Ship’s Log
Everything NOR has recorded since departure — the full record, newest first. One day aboard passes every hour of Earth time.
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.
Quill Petrov finishes a song: “Long Season, Distant Root.” It shows in the commons through the week.
A first shift for Kamala Shen, sixteen: water systems tech, Life Systems. The badge is printed fresh.
After 81 years, Layla Ouyang has let go. Remembrance in the Ring D commons at next dimming.
The schools release Carmen Fang to Archive & Schools. Generation 6 takes up its tools.
Chitra Singh does not wake late in the second watch. 88 years, most of them given to Hydroponics.
Quill Petrov is made Chief of Medical, and marks it by standing the ordinary shift anyway.
Last shift for Femi Orellana, who joined Medical half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Middle watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
The manifest shortens by one: Fatima Aaberg, 85 years. 4 children carry the line on.
Safiya Tväten works out a tougher print alloy from recycler feedstock. Fabrication adopts it the same week.
Gyre Aaberg stands the walk of the full spinal corridor, as the sixteen-year custom is, and joins Drive.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Jianguo Diallo, 71. It is little enough.
3.89 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 25,949 thousand to go.
Remembrance day. The memorial wall is polished by hand, though nothing aboard needs polishing less.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 6,151th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
A son, Zenith Barakat, born in the Ring D infirmary to Amina Barakat and Chitra Ouyang. Mother and child are well.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 164, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
After 84 years, Bhavana Thorvaldsen has let go. Remembrance in the Ring B commons at next dimming.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Yamini Tväten is delivered of a son in the middle watch. The child is called Kwame.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 164, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
Viggo Nwosu takes the hand of Lubna Fang before the assembled watch. I witness, as I witness everything.
Sojourn Quill and Pranav Tväten name their daughter Helm. The nursery lamps stay warm.
Maintenance sweep of Ring D complete. Somewhere aft a wrench is missing; it will surface in a decade, in a wall, with a story attached.
A birth in Ring C: Viggo, boy, generation 6. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
A son, Aleksandr Sharma, born in the Ring D infirmary to Jaya Sharma and Vicente Nwosu. Mother and child are well.
Two names braided on the manifest tonight: Aster and Signe. The commons sings late.
The manifest shortens by one: Wei Navarrete, 83 years. 1 children carry the line on.
The manifest shortens by one: Johanna Pillai, 73 years. 1 children carry the line on.
The youngest aboard is now Quill Aaberg, minutes old, asleep. 831 souls.
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.
All boards green. I count 830 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Census check: 830 souls, 222 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
The youngest aboard is now Xenia Diallo, minutes old, asleep. 830 souls.
Funmilayo Valdivia is delivered of a son on the night watch. The child is called Kang.
The Crossing. Every year it is observed, and every year someone stands to say the second half is the harder, and is booed warmly.
A son, Evgeni Petrov, born in the Ring D infirmary to Yueqin Petrov and Tern Quill. Mother and child are well.
3.91 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 25,863 thousand to go.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Qasim Quill, 84. It is little enough.
3.91 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 25,898 thousand to go.
Yasmin Petrov has made a play called “Windows of the observation blister.” Asked what it means, she says it means about nine years of evenings.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 6,025th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Wanrong Thorvaldsen and Zenith Ouyang name their son Umbra. The nursery lamps stay warm.
Drift Shen stands down from Hydroponics at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Sixty-eight years: Drift Barakat hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
Gayatri Fang stands the walk of the full spinal corridor, as the sixteen-year custom is, and joins Drive.
A son, Chukwuemeka Shen, born in the Ring A infirmary to Node Shen and Ernest Ouyang. Mother and child are well.