Hydroponics Bays back in service. The old hands say it sounds better than before; the instruments say it sounds the same.
The Ship’s Log
Everything NOR has recorded since departure — year 166, newest first. One day aboard passes every hour of Earth time.
Another week of the fever. Medical rotates exhausted; volunteers take the laundry runs. The rails are wiped twice a watch.
Fault isolated in Hydroponics Bays. Repair estimate: unwise to say aloud.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 6,790th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
The sickness holds its grip. Wards full, schools closed, meals delivered by runner. The ship wears masks and patience.
The sickness takes Maja Shen, 20. Medical logs the name; I keep it also, in my own way.
The sickness holds its grip. Wards full, schools closed, meals delivered by runner. The ship wears masks and patience.
3.78 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 24,974 thousand to go.
A sickness declares itself: fever, cough, exhaustion. The wards fill; the corridors empty. We have done this before, the records remind me.
Zenith Diallo stands down from Archive & Schools at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
After 86 years, Gonzalo Quaye has let go. Remembrance in the Ring A commons at next dimming.
Hanan Quill retires on the first watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
The Crossing feast: more behind than ahead. The long tables come out; the good preserves come down.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 6,769th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
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.
Freya Valdivia retires late in the second watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Morale index reads 81. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
The schools release Altair Tväten to Drive. Generation 6 takes up its tools.
After 84 years, Meridian Fang has let go. Remembrance in the Ring D commons at next dimming.
Umbra Orellana stands the walk of the full spinal corridor, as the sixteen-year custom is, and joins Drive.
The manifest shortens by one: Vera Tväten, 93 years. 1 children carry the line on.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Jaya Pillai, 89. It is little enough.
Halley Fang takes the hand of Node Ning before the assembled watch. I witness, as I witness everything.
Sixteen years for Edmund Merriweather, who signs to Fabrication in the middle watch and is given a locker, a sash, and a schedule.
All boards green. I count 822 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 166, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
Born on the first watch: Verne Petrov, generation 7. The ship holds 822 souls tonight.
A new quilt from Nneka Diallo — “Five Maps Rising.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
After 83 years, Salvador Fossum has let go. Remembrance in the Ring B commons at next dimming.
Born on the first watch: Zenith Mansour, generation 6. The ship holds 822 souls tonight.
A new play from Karim Petrov — “What the Root Grows.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
A first shift for Pranav Yan, sixteen: fuelwright, Drive. The badge is printed fresh.
Sixteen years for Qing Shen, who signs to Hydroponics on the night 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 — 3.80 light-years to go.
The schools release Verne Peng to Life Systems. Generation 6 takes up its tools.
Sixty-eight years: Kehinde Ouyang hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 30,624 days to orbit.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Feng Sharma stands down from Hydroponics at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Vikram Barakat stands the walk of the full spinal corridor, as the sixteen-year custom is, and joins Fabrication.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Altair Quill, 84. It is little enough.
The council confirms Fadi Navarrete as Chief of Command on the first watch.
Bernardo Thorvaldsen stands down from Command at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
The manifest shortens by one: Zenith Fossum, 99 years. 2 children carry the line on.
“Orchards of Year 166,” a instrument by Rell Valdivia, is unveiled in the middle watch to the particular applause of Drive.
Sixty-eight years: Fathom Shen hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
A wedding at brightening. Zaid Nwosu, Hydroponics; Qiaoyun Valdivia, Archive & Schools. The ship approves in its way: the lights held steady throughout.
All boards green. I count 823 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
A birth in Ring B: Ulises, boy, generation 6. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
A daughter, Eos Aaberg, born in the Ring B infirmary to Josefina Aaberg and Deshi Tväten. Mother and child are well.