The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 37, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
The Ship’s Log
Everything NOR has recorded since departure — the full record, newest first. One day aboard passes every hour of Earth time.
11.45 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 72,110 thousand to go.
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.
Repair complete on Medical Bay after 31 long days. I run the test cycle twice, out of respect for history.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Chidinma Chukwu, 67. It is little enough.
After 81 years, Lev Dragunov has let go. Remembrance in the Ring A commons at next dimming.
Hassan Wahba retires on the night watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Fault isolated in Medical Bay. Repair estimate: unwise to say aloud.
Arjun Mukherjee stands down from Life Systems at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Water Reclamation hums again. Lanying Wan is stood a round of orchard cider by the off-shift.
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.
First Light. The observation blister queues run all day: Teegarden's Star, held in the eyepiece, a little brighter than last year — 11.46 light-years to go.
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.
A failure in Water Reclamation. The duty crew is roused; tools move down the spinal corridor at a jog.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 77,690 days to orbit.
Yejide Okonkwo does not wake at dimming. 82 years, most of them given to Hydroponics.
Census check: 932 souls, 90 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
Ludmila Zhao is delivered of a daughter on the first watch. The child is called Dolores.
11.47 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 72,350 thousand to go.
Last shift for Eleanor Ellery, who joined Medical half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Dolores Cárdenas retires on the night watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Last shift for Fermín Riquelme, who joined Life Systems half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Natalya Kowalczyk died in quarters in the middle watch, 55 years old, once mycologist. 931 souls aboard.
First watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
The manifest shortens by one: Jinghua Wan, 84 years. The line rests with the ship now.
Nneka Chukwu does not wake on the night watch. 83 years, most of them given to Archive & Schools.
The youngest aboard is now Xavier Thorvaldsen, minutes old, asleep. 934 souls.
Kayode Fashola retires on the first watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
All boards green. I count 933 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Oscar Jessop, 78. It is little enough.
A birth in Ring B: Catalina, girl, generation 2. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Chandran Chatterjee finishes a tale-cycle: “Engine for the Iron Hymn.” It shows in the commons through the week.
Mikhail Gagarin does not wake on the night watch. 84 years, most of them given to Life Systems.
Meera Lal stands down from Medical at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Zofia Morozov retires late in the second watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Magnus Lund retires late in the second watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Sixty-eight years: Ebba Lindqvist hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
Born at dimming: Harold Ashworth, generation 2. The ship holds 934 souls tonight.
Year 37 of the voyage begins. The oldest bottle of orchard wine that can be spared is opened. It is always described as "improving."
Iveta Chekhov stands down from Life Systems at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Nora Salazar has made a tale-cycle called “Map for the Unlit Sky.” Asked what it means, she says it means about nine years of evenings.
A son, Damilare Quaye, born in the Ring B infirmary to Qiaoyun Quaye and Jamal Raghunathan. Mother and child are well.
Born on the first watch: Zemin Ulriksen, generation 2. The ship holds 932 souls tonight.
Kwame Jelani, 71, generation 0, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
Sixty-eight years: Evgeni Dubrovsky hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
Nnamdi Iwu finishes a quilt: “What the Lantern Carries.” It shows in the commons through the week.
All boards green. I count 932 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Karima Jaber has made a song called “Windows of Year 36.” Asked what it means, she says it means about nine years of evenings.
Last shift for Fermín Valdivia, who joined Fabrication half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.