Last shift for Verne Petrov, who joined Medical half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
The Ship’s Log
Everything NOR has recorded since departure — the full record, newest first. One day aboard passes every hour of Earth time.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 63,591 days to orbit.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Salvador Escamilla, 98. It is little enough.
A first shift for Aleksandr Aaberg, sixteen: air systems tech, Life Systems. The badge is printed fresh.
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.
Tatiana Navarrete stands the walk of the full spinal corridor, as the sixteen-year custom is, and joins Archive & Schools.
A first shift for Lubna Fang, sixteen: mycologist, Hydroponics. The badge is printed fresh.
A new play from Harold Ashworth — “Field for the Patient Signal.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
Remembrance day. The memorial wall is polished by hand, though nothing aboard needs polishing less.
Rotimi Aaberg resolves a long-period comet in the forward field — a smudge of home ice, very far from home. It is logged and named.
Kamala Salazar is delivered of a son in the middle watch. The child is called Usman.
Nora Jaber and Chandran Aaberg name their son Quill. The nursery lamps stay warm.
First watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
Dagny Thorvaldsen and Enlai Aaberg are joined under the orchard lamps. The whole of Medical turns out.
Indira Nair does not wake at dimming. 99 years, most of them given to Archive & Schools.
June Shen is delivered of a son in the middle watch. The child is called Peng.
The youngest aboard is now Pearl Aaberg, minutes old, asleep. 783 souls.
The youngest aboard is now Mohan Kong, minutes old, asleep. 782 souls.
Deneb Pemberton coaxes a new bread yeast from the orchard air. The proof is in the mess by morning.
Ravindra Ouyang has made a tale-cycle called “The Last Root.” Asked what it means, he says it means about nine years of evenings.
A son, Domingo Thorvaldsen, born in the Ring C infirmary to Oddny Thorvaldsen and Nils Quaye. Mother and child are well.
The schools release Shanta Sharma to Drive. Generation 2 takes up its tools.
Vera Rutherford has made a tale-cycle called “Gardens of Year 75.” Asked what it means, she says it means about nine years of evenings.
Birgitta Nwosu, sixteen, takes the mycologist apprenticeship in Hydroponics.
NOR Compute Core hums again. Elsie Diallo is stood a round of orchard cider by the off-shift.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 63,744 days to orbit.
I dim the corridor lights a shade for Karim Aswad, 100. It is little enough.
NOR Compute Core quits late in the second watch, with a sound the old hands do not like.
Anders Shen chooses Archive & Schools — or it chooses him; the elders disagree cheerfully.
Paloma Quill and Walter Ashworth name their son Ishaan. The nursery lamps stay warm.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Anton Sharma has made a quilt called “Standing Hymn, Sunless Winter.” Asked what it means, he says it means about nine years of evenings.
A new song from Ravindra Navarrete — “The Patient Map.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 75, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
Born in the middle watch: Sami Nwosu, generation 4. The ship holds 780 souls tonight.
Domingo Quaye takes the hand of Vasanti Kowalczyk before the assembled watch. I witness, as I witness everything.
Solveig Salazar and Gopal Ouyang name their daughter Edith. The nursery lamps stay warm.
A birth in Ring A: Anand, boy, generation 3. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 521th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 510th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
A joining in Ring C: Noor Ouyang and Dinesh Jaber. The pressing of cider is authorized.
A birth in Ring D: Arc, boy, generation 3. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
The schools release Walter Orellana to Medical. Generation 3 takes up its tools.
First Light. The observation blister queues run all day: Teegarden's Star, held in the eyepiece, a little brighter than last year — 9.21 light-years to go.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 487th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
All boards green. I count 776 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
A child in Ring A asks the corridor speaker what Earth smelled like. I play the rainstorm recording. It is the best answer I have.
After 70 years, Obinna Montoya has let go. Remembrance in the Ring A commons at next dimming.
Morale index reads 78. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.