Last shift for Gilbert Navarrete, who joined Medical half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
The Ship’s Log
Everything NOR has recorded since departure — the full record, newest first. One day aboard passes every hour of Earth time.
Mira Yan takes the hand of Orrery Thorvaldsen before the assembled watch. I witness, as I witness everything.
Node Barakat retires in the middle watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Born on the first watch: Khalid Quill, generation 7. The ship holds 863 souls tonight.
Alice Navarrete chooses Medical — or it chooses her; the elders disagree cheerfully.
Sixteen years for Omar Petrov, who signs to Fabrication at brightening and is given a locker, a sash, and a schedule.
A first shift for Kestrel Shen, sixteen: arborist, Ecology. The badge is printed fresh.
Sixteen years for Halvard Tväten, who signs to Drive late in the second watch and is given a locker, a sash, and a schedule.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 23,576 days to orbit.
Vasanti Petrov stands the walk of the full spinal corridor, as the sixteen-year custom is, and joins Medical.
Gyre Tväten, 94, generation 4, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
The Crossing feast: more behind than ahead. The long tables come out; the good preserves come down.
A first shift for Lumen Quill, sixteen: plasma systems tech, Drive. The badge is printed fresh.
Juniper Thorvaldsen, sixteen, takes the fuelwright apprenticeship in Drive.
Two names braided on the manifest tonight: Natalya and Ibrahim. The commons sings late.
Gyre Tväten takes the hand of Peng Quaye before the assembled watch. I witness, as I witness everything.
All boards green. I count 863 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Meera Shen, 92, generation 4, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
Morale index reads 76. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
Walter Thorvaldsen takes the hand of Silvia Petrov before the assembled watch. I witness, as I witness everything.
Census check: 864 souls, 200 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
Cora Sharma is delivered of a daughter on the night watch. The child is called Fern.
2.66 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 20,416 thousand to go.
A joining in Ring D: Viggo Tväten and Noemí Navarrete. The pressing of cider is authorized.
The schools release Opal Jaber to Medical. Generation 7 takes up its tools.
Born in the middle watch: Ifedayo Thorvaldsen, generation 7. The ship holds 863 souls tonight.
Sixty-eight years: Chukwuemeka Nwosu hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring A stands ready.
First Light. The observation blister queues run all day: Teegarden's Star, held in the eyepiece, a little brighter than last year — 2.67 light-years to go.
A wedding at brightening. Orrery Nwosu, Life Systems; Ruth Peng, Fabrication. The ship approves in its way: the lights held steady throughout.
Middle watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
Boreal Petrov is delivered of a daughter at brightening. The child is called Drift.
Two names braided on the manifest tonight: Ember and Meridian. The commons sings late.
Sixteen years for Teegarden Fang, who signs to Hydroponics at brightening and is given a locker, a sash, and a schedule.
The schools release Fathom Sharma to Command. Generation 6 takes up its tools.
Meridian Thorvaldsen has made a song called “Water for the Distant Watch.” Asked what it means, she says it means about nine years of evenings.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Sami Thorvaldsen, 90. It is little enough.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 4,590th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
Vikram Tväten, 97, generation 3, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
A first shift for Ramiro Petrov, sixteen: recycler, Fabrication. The badge is printed fresh.
The manifest shortens by one: Kavita Ouyang, 85 years. 4 children carry the line on.
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.
Ebba Valdivia stands the walk of the full spinal corridor, as the sixteen-year custom is, and joins Fabrication.
Reactor hums again. Cygnet Sharma is stood a round of orchard cider by the off-shift.
Clara Tväten is delivered of a son late in the second watch. The child is called Keel.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 23,751 days to orbit.
Brownout. I hold power to the wards and the growing lamps and let the corridors go dim. The ship is patient.
Scram on the reactor at dimming. Emergency batteries carry the ring lights while Drive works the restart list.
The youngest aboard is now Pallas Northam, minutes old, asleep. 863 souls.