Walter Ashworth died in quarters on the night watch, 60 years old, once historian. 974 souls aboard.
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 D complete. Somewhere aft a wrench is missing; it will surface in a decade, in a wall, with a story attached.
“A bright corridor,” a mural by Pallas Nwosu, is unveiled late in the second watch to the particular applause of Drive.
A birth in Ring D: Igor, boy, generation 4. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Middle watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
Sixty-eight years: June Mansour hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
Salvador Fossum takes the hand of Pearl Sharma before the assembled watch. I witness, as I witness everything.
The schools release Orrery Petrov to Life Systems. Generation 4 takes up its tools.
Last shift for Dagny Nwosu, who joined Hydroponics half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Yamini Salazar stands down from Fabrication at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Rosario Fang chooses Ecology — or it chooses her; the elders disagree cheerfully.
Census check: 974 souls, 138 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
A new mural from Clara Fang — “A late furrow.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
A birth in Ring B: Mira, boy, generation 5. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Morale index reads 80. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
7.42 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 51,437 thousand to go.
The youngest aboard is now Kirill Ning, minutes old, asleep. 973 souls.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 52,865 days to orbit.
A birth in Ring C: Florence, girl, generation 5. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Census check: 971 souls, 135 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
First Light. The observation blister queues run all day: Teegarden's Star, held in the eyepiece, a little brighter than last year — 7.43 light-years to go.
Peizhi Valdivia, sixteen, takes the nurse apprenticeship in Medical.
Dolores Zhao retires on the night watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
The youngest aboard is now Ekundayo Navarrete, minutes old, asleep. 971 souls.
Tao Aaberg and Lakshmi Mansour are joined under the orchard lamps. The whole of Medical turns out.
7.43 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 51,314 thousand to go.
Too soon, at 44: Verne Valdivia. The commons fills late in the second watch with those who knew him.
All boards green. I count 971 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Sixty-eight years: Xavier Thorvaldsen hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring A stands ready.
Guowei Tväten chooses Command — or it chooses him; the elders disagree cheerfully.
Born at dimming: Stanislav Northam, generation 5. The ship holds 971 souls tonight.
Last shift for Catalina Thorvaldsen, who joined Ecology half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Maintenance sweep of Ring C complete. Somewhere aft a wrench is missing; it will surface in a decade, in a wall, with a story attached.
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.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Shanta Sharma has died at 45, far too early. Drive stands down a shift in grief.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 2,355th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
All boards green. I count 971 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Medical Bay back in service. The old hands say it sounds better than before; the instruments say it sounds the same.
Medical Bay faults on the night watch. Medical takes the call.
Harold Ashworth retires on the first watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
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.
Year 105 of the voyage begins. The oldest bottle of orchard wine that can be spared is opened. It is always described as "improving."
Raisa Fang and Wren Aaberg name their daughter Oksana. The nursery lamps stay warm.
Leandro Pemberton does not wake at dimming. 89 years, most of them given to Drive.
Orrery Petrov, sixteen, takes the librarian apprenticeship in Archive & Schools.
Sixty-eight years: Damilare Quaye hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 53,007 days to orbit.
Sixty-eight years: Zemin Ulriksen hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring A stands ready.
Night watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.