Sixty-eight years: Zhihao Cao hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring C stands ready.
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 dim the corridor lights a shade for Tessa Ashworth, 65. It is little enough.
Last shift for Ghassan El-Amin, who joined Fabrication half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
The manifest shortens by one: Khalid Haddad, 66 years. The line rests with the ship now.
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.
Last shift for Raymond Rutherford, who joined Ecology half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Deshi Jiang, 82, generation 0, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
Guiying Jin died in quarters late in the second watch, 75 years old. 911 souls aboard.
The youngest aboard is now Katarzyna Ashworth, minutes old, asleep. 912 souls.
Water reserve dips below the line. Showers go to ration timers; nobody sings in them, briefly.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Howard Fenwick, 87. It is little enough.
A new quilt from Bruno Ocampo — “Seasons of the spinal corridor.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
The manifest shortens by one: Oksana Yakovlev, 79 years. The line rests with the ship now.
A daughter, Oddny Thorvaldsen, born in the Ring C infirmary to Gunhild Thorvaldsen and Percy Escamilla. Mother and child are well.
Middle watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
A new poem from Oksana Yakovlev — “What the Sky Forgets.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
Zahra Jaber stands down from Drive at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Paloma Nwosu is delivered of a son at dimming. The child is called Caelum.
Last shift for Zemin Qin, who joined Drive half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
11.24 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 69,505 thousand to go.
The youngest aboard is now Rell Peng, minutes old, asleep. 911 souls.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Ximena Figueroa, 86. It is little enough.
Thora Kolstad, 75, generation 0, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
All boards green. I count 912 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Tara Thorvaldsen and Leif Ulanov name their daughter Adaeze. The nursery lamps stay warm.
Igor Chekhov stands down from Life Systems at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
A child in Ring B asks the corridor speaker what Earth smelled like. I play the rainstorm recording. It is the best answer I have.
The manifest shortens by one: Pavel Dragunov, 80 years. The line rests with the ship now.
Stanley Fossum chooses Ecology — or it chooses him; the elders disagree cheerfully.
Sixty-eight years: Hakim Ghanem hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring A stands ready.
The manifest shortens by one: Xiaohui Qin, 73 years. The line rests with the ship now.
Kirill Vasiliev retires on the first watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Simisola Fashola stands down from Life Systems at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
11.25 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 69,704 thousand to go.
Year 41 of the voyage begins. The oldest bottle of orchard wine that can be spared is opened. It is always described as "improving."
Last shift for Tariq Toma, who joined Archive & Schools half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Huifen Ouyang stands down from Command at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Rajesh Jaber chooses Life Systems — or it chooses him; the elders disagree cheerfully.
Babatunde Jaber, sixteen, takes the bay gardener apprenticeship in Hydroponics.
Xavier Ibarra stands down from Hydroponics at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Sixty-eight years: Nandini Sharma hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
Catalina Barrientos coaxes a new bread yeast from the orchard air. The proof is in the mess by morning.
The manifest shortens by one: Lärä Eze, 85 years. The line rests with the ship now.
Middle watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
Census check: 914 souls, 114 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
The manifest shortens by one: Konstantin Pavlenko, 82 years. The line rests with the ship now.
Last shift for Farida Mansour, who joined Drive half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
All boards green. I count 915 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Kang Deng retires at brightening. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.