A son, Fadi Yan, born in the Ring D infirmary to Esha Yan and Stanley Valdivia. Mother and child are well.
The Ship’s Log
Everything NOR has recorded since departure — the full record, newest first. One day aboard passes every hour of Earth time.
Lanying Nwosu stands the walk of the full spinal corridor, as the sixteen-year custom is, and joins Medical.
The youngest aboard is now Wei Shen, minutes old, asleep. 873 souls.
Jorgen Thorvaldsen, sixteen, takes the drive engineer apprenticeship in Drive.
Mira Thorvaldsen, sixteen, takes the sanitation engineer apprenticeship in Life Systems.
Rell Thorvaldsen, sixteen, takes the navigator apprenticeship in Command.
After 103 years, Abena Yeboah has let go. Remembrance in the Ring B commons at next dimming.
Last shift for Leandro Pemberton, who joined Drive half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
A birth in Ring A: Halvard, boy, generation 4. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Remembrance day. The memorial wall is polished by hand, though nothing aboard needs polishing less.
Morale index reads 80. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
The schools release Dolores Nwosu to Fabrication. Generation 3 takes up its tools.
A wedding at brightening. Tarun Quaye, Drive; Orrery Navarrete, Fabrication. The ship approves in its way: the lights held steady throughout.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 3,582th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
Deneb Pemberton finishes a tale-cycle: “What the Sky Forgets.” It shows in the commons through the week.
Morale index reads 80. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
Two names braided on the manifest tonight: Fern and Pallas. The commons sings late.
The schools release Gopal Singh to Hydroponics. Generation 3 takes up its tools.
All boards green. I count 872 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
A first shift for Arjun Thorvaldsen, sixteen: thermal engineer, Life Systems. The badge is printed fresh.
Born late in the second watch: Guiying Nwosu, generation 3. The ship holds 872 souls tonight.
Oluwadamilola Jaber chooses Ecology — or it chooses him; the elders disagree cheerfully.
All boards green. I count 871 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Juniper Tväten, sixteen, takes the water systems tech apprenticeship in Life Systems.
A first shift for Ember Navarrete, sixteen: irrigation tech, Hydroponics. The badge is printed fresh.
Elin Yan is delivered of a son at brightening. The child is called Zemin.
8.72 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 52,917 thousand to go.
Fabrication Shops hums again. Sojourn Navarrete is stood a round of orchard cider by the off-shift.
Fault isolated in Fabrication Shops. Repair estimate: unwise to say aloud.
The manifest shortens by one: Hernán Navarrete, 102 years. The line rests with the ship now.
A wedding at brightening. Hakon Northam, Drive; Ghada Petrov, Life Systems. The ship approves in its way: the lights held steady throughout.
A new quilt from Uzoma Pillai — “What the Corridor Leaves.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
Peizhi Jaber and Uzoma Aaberg, joined. Their quarters are re-assigned adjoining, per custom.
Census check: 871 souls, 264 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Maintenance sweep of Ring B complete. Somewhere aft a wrench is missing; it will surface in a decade, in a wall, with a story attached.
A birth in Ring C: Gonzalo, boy, generation 3. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
The schools release Jagdish Kong to Fabrication. Generation 3 takes up its tools.
The youngest aboard is now Nora Merriweather, minutes old, asleep. 870 souls.
Xiaohui Ouyang is delivered of a daughter at dimming. The child is called Layla.
Lev Diallo chooses Medical — or it chooses him; the elders disagree cheerfully.
A first shift for Tern Jaber, sixteen: thermal engineer, Life Systems. The badge is printed fresh.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Kang Valdivia stands the walk of the full spinal corridor, as the sixteen-year custom is, and joins Hydroponics.
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.
A birth in Ring C: Edith, girl, generation 4. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
First Light. The observation blister queues run all day: Teegarden's Star, held in the eyepiece, a little brighter than last year — 8.73 light-years to go.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 83, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
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.
A birth in Ring C: Shanta, girl, generation 4. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.