Raymond Shen takes the hand of Sarala Thorvaldsen before the assembled watch. I witness, as I witness everything.
The Ship’s Log
Everything NOR has recorded since departure — the full record, newest first. One day aboard passes every hour of Earth time.
Vikram Diallo and Xenia Shen are joined under the orchard lamps. The whole of Medical turns out.
Sixteen years for Xiulan Petrov, who signs to Drive late in the second watch and is given a locker, a sash, and a schedule.
Lumen Petrov died in quarters late in the second watch, 67 years old, once mycologist. 976 souls aboard.
Chief of Hydroponics falls to Milena Kowalczyk, who accepts with a nod and a full docket.
Cygnet Fang retires on the night watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
“A borrowed season,” a instrument by Guadalupe Thorvaldsen, is unveiled late in the second watch to the particular applause of Life Systems.
The youngest aboard is now Xiulan Tväten, minutes old, asleep. 977 souls.
A joining in Ring D: Orrery Petrov and Yasmin Pemberton. The pressing of cider is authorized.
The schools release Caelum Mansour to Ecology. Generation 4 takes up its tools.
Zemin Ulriksen died in quarters in the middle watch, 73 years old. 976 souls aboard.
First Light. The observation blister queues run all day: Teegarden's Star, held in the eyepiece, a little brighter than last year — 7.13 light-years to go.
The schools release Jamila Fang to Hydroponics. Generation 4 takes up its tools.
Sixty-eight years: Viggo Singh hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
Morale index reads 80. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
Night watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 110, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
Hassan Pillai is made Chief of Command, and marks it by standing the ordinary shift anyway.
Arne Ouyang retires at dimming. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Middle watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
The youngest aboard is now Oluwaseun Merriweather, minutes old, asleep. 977 souls.
Sixteen years for Zenith Petrov, who signs to Life Systems at dimming and is given a locker, a sash, and a schedule.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
A daughter, Raisa Orellana, born in the Ring D infirmary to Polina Orellana and Nicolás Shen. Mother and child are well.
The question is put to the wider circle: Water discipline. The ship asks; Earth answers, in its own long time.
Cora Orellana chooses Drive — or it chooses her; the elders disagree cheerfully.
7.15 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 49,876 thousand to go.
Year 110 of the voyage begins. The oldest bottle of orchard wine that can be spared is opened. It is always described as "improving."
7.15 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 49,893 thousand to go.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 4,138th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
Lakshman Ouyang died in quarters late in the second watch, 70 years old. 975 souls aboard.
Farida Quaye is delivered of a son on the night watch. The child is called Wenbo.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 51,183 days to orbit.
Two names braided on the manifest tonight: Radomir and Gunhild. The commons sings late.
The schools release Daisy Nwosu to Drive. Generation 4 takes up its tools.
The manifest shortens by one: Zenith Peng, 92 years. 11 children carry the line on.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 51,195 days to orbit.
Gantry Zhao retires late in the second watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Sixty-eight years: Nils Quaye hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring B stands ready.
Quiet shift. I re-run the arrival calculations for the 4,108th time. They have not changed. I find this restful.
Gayatri Quaye has died at 53, far too early. Fabrication stands down a shift in grief.
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.
Kestrel Quill retires at brightening. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 109, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
Remembrance. All names read since the last one — held in silence in every ring at the same hour. I keep the lights low until it is done.
Sixty-eight years: Jiayi Thorvaldsen hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring A stands ready.
Kehinde Yan stands down from Fabrication at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
Census check: 977 souls, 111 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
Routine watch. The wheat in Bay 3 stands taller than its keepers. 51,281 days to orbit.