First Light festival. The children are lifted to the eyepiece one by one to see where they are going.
The Ship’s Log
Everything NOR has recorded since departure — the full record, newest first. One day aboard passes every hour of Earth time.
Hakon Gundersen retires on the night watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 76,593 days to orbit.
The question is put to the wider circle: Water discipline. The ship asks; Earth answers, in its own long time.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Leonard Lockhart retires on the first watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
After 65 years, Ximena Izquierdo has let go. Remembrance in the Ring B commons at next dimming.
Dmitri Dubrovsky died in quarters on the night watch, 84 years old. 922 souls aboard.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Ruolan Shen, 67. It is little enough.
Nils Eriksen stands down from Life Systems at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Ramiro Escamilla stands down from Hydroponics at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Night watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
Theodore Holloway died in quarters on the night watch, 77 years old. 924 souls aboard.
A son, Vernon Aaberg, born in the Ring A infirmary to Shanta Aaberg and Cedric Fang. Mother and child are well.
The manifest shortens by one: Vigdis Iversen, 85 years. The line rests with the ship now.
The youngest aboard is now Hedda Tväten, minutes old, asleep. 925 souls.
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.
Last shift for Esha Menon, who joined Life Systems half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Dolores Quintana retires on the night watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
A daughter, Carmen Valdivia, born in the Ring A infirmary to Yelena Valdivia and Khalid Vik. Mother and child are well.
Year 40 of the voyage begins. The oldest bottle of orchard wine that can be spared is opened. It is always described as "improving."
Sixty-eight years: Frederick Kingsley hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring C stands ready.
Samira Kanaan died in quarters in the middle watch, 85 years old. 923 souls aboard.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Xavier Terrazas retires at brightening. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Efua Thorvaldsen, sixteen, takes the sanitation engineer apprenticeship in Life Systems.
Last shift for Jagdish Joshi, who joined Hydroponics half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Nora Salazar and Radomir Quintana name their son Nils. The nursery lamps stay warm.
Sixty-eight years: Clara Fairburn hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
Nils Wangberg retires at dimming. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Ada Draycott stands down from Fabrication at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Sylvia Ning is delivered of a daughter on the night watch. The child is called Lakshmi.
A new song from Ganesh Deshpande — “Signal for the Inward Bell.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
A son, Lakshman Ouyang, born in the Ring C infirmary to Jamila Ouyang and Obinna Montoya. Mother and child are well.
Last shift for Nils Bergstrom, who joined Hydroponics half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Nadia Wahba does not wake late in the second watch. 79 years, most of them given to Life Systems.
Chief of Hydroponics falls to Suyin Shen, who accepts with a nod and a full docket.
Last shift for César Escamilla, who joined Fabrication half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Sixty-eight years: Lakshmi Iyer hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring A stands ready.
Remembrance day. The memorial wall is polished by hand, though nothing aboard needs polishing less.
11.32 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 70,793 thousand to go.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 76,783 days to orbit.
All boards green. I count 922 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Rocío Juárez, 69. It is little enough.
A child in Ring D asks the corridor speaker what Earth smelled like. I play the rainstorm recording. It is the best answer I have.
A birth in Ring D: Leticia, girl, generation 2. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Ekundayo Quaye died in quarters on the first watch, 83 years old. 922 souls aboard.
A child in Ring D asks the corridor speaker what Earth smelled like. I play the rainstorm recording. It is the best answer I have.
Census check: 923 souls, 103 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
The manifest shortens by one: Noemí Aguirre, 88 years. The line rests with the ship now.