Sixty-eight years: Ingrid Oster hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring A 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.
Soledad Hidalgo does not wake late in the second watch. 85 years, most of them given to Life Systems.
Esperanza Montoya died in quarters at dimming, 70 years old. 833 souls aboard.
A first shift for Fernanda Fossum, sixteen: drive engineer, Drive. The badge is printed fresh.
A son, Emeka Petrov, born in the Ring B infirmary to Verne Petrov and Theodore Solheim. Mother and child are well.
Fernanda Urrutia, 85, generation 0, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
A son, Lyra Mazur, born in the Ring D infirmary to Mabel Mazur and Gilbert Fairburn. Mother and child are well.
Sixty-eight years: Ludmila Petrov hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring C stands ready.
Last shift for Kehinde Chukwu, who joined Hydroponics half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Yasmin Saab stands down from Fabrication at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Kavita Pillai and Jorgen Danjuma name their son Hassan. The nursery lamps stay warm.
Last shift for Yuri Tereshkova, who joined Fabrication half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Sixty-eight years: Kofi Sowande hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring B stands ready.
Sixty-eight years: Temitope Falade hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
The youngest aboard is now Esha Yan, minutes old, asleep. 832 souls.
Yusheng Huang retires on the first watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
After 94 years, Josefina Riquelme has let go. Remembrance in the Ring A commons at next dimming.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Jinghua Feng retires on the night watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Sixty-eight years: Oluwadamilola Olawale hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring A stands ready.
Morale index reads 55. The number is crude. The singing from the mess contradicts it.
Fatima Yamin, 82, generation 0, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
Silvia Jaramillo retires in the middle watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Florence Langford stands down from Ecology at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Devendra Sethi retires in the middle watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
A birth in Ring A: Thurayya, girl, generation 2. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
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.
Uday Jaber, sixteen, takes the shield tech apprenticeship in Drive.
Sixty-eight years: Walter Ingram hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring A stands ready.
Yewande Eze stands down from Hydroponics at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Dominika Thorvaldsen, sixteen, takes the grafter apprenticeship in Hydroponics.
Pilar Izquierdo, 90, generation 0, is carried down the spinal corridor feet-first, as the custom is.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 47, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
Jianguo Han does not wake at dimming. 77 years, most of them given to Drive.
Census check: 834 souls, 152 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
“Winters of Year 47,” a song by Winifred Vance, is unveiled at brightening to the particular applause of Command.
First Light festival. The children are lifted to the eyepiece one by one to see where they are going.
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.
Tara Singh died in quarters on the first watch, 88 years old. 834 souls aboard.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 8,271th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
A second child follows on the night watch: twins for Yelena Valdivia. This one is called Signe.
Yelena Valdivia is delivered of a son on the night watch. The child is called Stanley.
Born late in the second watch: Marzena Quill, generation 2. The ship holds 833 souls tonight.
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.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 47, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
Ulyana Gagarin stands down from Medical at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
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.
Uday Trivedi has made a mural called “What the Garden Holds.” Asked what it means, he says it means about nine years of evenings.
All boards green. I count 832 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.