Morale index reads 89. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
The Ship’s Log
Everything NOR has recorded since departure — the full record, newest first. One day aboard passes every hour of Earth time.
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.
Dalia El-Amin has made a tale-cycle called “Late Hymn, Long Door.” Asked what it means, she says it means about nine years of evenings.
A new mural from Theodore Pemberton — “Winters of Year 6.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
A birth in Ring A: Zahra, girl, generation 1. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
A wedding on the first watch. Naresh Patil, Life Systems; Carmen Cárdenas, Ecology. The ship approves in its way: the lights held steady throughout.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 89,082 days to orbit.
A wedding in the middle watch. Wenbo Ning, Archive & Schools; Georgia Quill, Fabrication. The ship approves in its way: the lights held steady throughout.
Census check: 1028 souls, 29 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
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 child in Ring B asks the corridor speaker what Earth smelled like. I play the rainstorm recording. It is the best answer I have.
A wedding at brightening. Kehinde Quaye, Drive; Ulf Haugen, Medical. The ship approves in its way: the lights held steady throughout.
Tara Singh and June Gresham, joined. Their quarters are re-assigned adjoining, per custom.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Naresh Naidu has made a tale-cycle called “Quiet Door (Year 6).” Asked what it means, he says it means about nine years of evenings.
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.
Departure Day, year 6. The founders' roll is read from the first name to the thousandth, and the young ones try to stay solemn.
Morale index reads 87. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
Census check: 1028 souls, 29 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
Sarala Yadav and Usman Ghanem, joined. Their quarters are re-assigned adjoining, per custom.
A joining in Ring A: Adewale Olawale and Qing Ma. The pressing of cider is authorized.
“Sky for the Slow Winter,” a tale-cycle by Huifen Peng, is unveiled at brightening to the particular applause of Ecology.
The circle has answered. Agronomy takes the morning hours. The schools smell of soil, and the racks gain a hundred small careful hands.
Two names braided on the manifest tonight: Gopal and Peizhi. The commons sings late.
12.47 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 91,682 thousand to go.
Lanying Meng works out a tougher print alloy from recycler feedstock. Fabrication adopts it the same week.
Remembrance day. The memorial wall is polished by hand, though nothing aboard needs polishing less.
Hanan Othman has made a mural called “Four Lanterns Rising.” Asked what it means, she says it means about nine years of evenings.
12.47 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 91,688 thousand to go.
Catalina Navarrete and Nnamdi Chike are joined under the orchard lamps. The whole of Life Systems turns out.
Water Reclamation back in service. The old hands say it sounds better than before; the instruments say it sounds the same.
A failure in Water Reclamation. The duty crew is roused; tools move down the spinal corridor at a jog.
Two names braided on the manifest tonight: Xavier and Yasmin. The commons sings late.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 89,232 days to orbit.
Safiya Sarraf takes the hand of Ignacio Quintana before the assembled watch. I witness, as I witness everything.
Morale index reads 87. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
Middle watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
Hakon Bergstrom finishes a instrument: “What the Watch Holds.” It shows in the commons through the week.
A birth in Ring D: Jamal, boy, generation 1. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 2,060th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
Martin Merriweather takes the hand of Zahra Aswad before the assembled watch. I witness, as I witness everything.
The question is put to the wider circle: The curriculum question. The ship asks; Earth answers, in its own long time.
Yuri Ulanov and Harini Joshi, joined. Their quarters are re-assigned adjoining, per custom.
Valentina Valdivia and Lars Nystrom, joined. Their quarters are re-assigned adjoining, per custom.
“What the Window Grows,” a play by Harold Standish, is unveiled on the night watch to the particular applause of Life Systems.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Ximena Figueroa has made a tale-cycle called “Winters of Year 5.” Asked what it means, she says it means about nine years of evenings.
A joining in Ring A: Jagdish Joshi and Oddny Kjellberg. The pressing of cider is authorized.