The schools release Kavita Ouyang to Hydroponics. Generation 4 takes up its tools.
The Ship’s Log
Everything NOR has recorded since departure — the full record, newest first. One day aboard passes every hour of Earth time.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
Last shift for Esha Yan, who joined Fabrication half a century ago. The crew line the corridor and knock wrenches on the rails.
Cygnet Nwosu and Vikram Aaberg name their son Fathom. The nursery lamps stay warm.
All boards green. I count 970 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Xenia Orellana chooses Hydroponics — or it chooses him; the elders disagree cheerfully.
The question is put to the wider circle: The curriculum question. The ship asks; Earth answers, in its own long time.
The schools release Ember Jaber to Ecology. Generation 4 takes up its tools.
Pranav Yan chooses Drive — or it chooses him; the elders disagree cheerfully.
6.82 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 47,674 thousand to go.
Mira Merriweather and Caelum Aaberg are joined under the orchard lamps. The whole of Life Systems turns out.
Aster Aaberg has died at 47, far too early. Hydroponics stands down a shift in grief.
A new poem from Lakshmi Ning — “The Hollow Field.” The Archive takes a copy; the original belongs to whoever stands nearest.
Thurayya Fang stands down from Life Systems at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
The star ahead brightens by amounts only I can love: another week, another hundred-millionth of a magnitude.
6.83 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 47,768 thousand to go.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 115, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
Born in the middle watch: Hernán Fang, generation 5. The ship holds 971 souls tonight.
Emilio Tväten stands the walk of the full spinal corridor, as the sixteen-year custom is, and joins Medical.
First Light festival. The children are lifted to the eyepiece one by one to see where they are going.
The schools release Jagdish Jaber to Life Systems. Generation 4 takes up its tools.
Sixty-eight years: Signe Valdivia hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring A stands ready.
Sixty-eight years: Stanley Valdivia hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring D stands ready.
Morale index reads 77. The number is crude. The singing from the mess confirms it.
Marzena Quill stands down from Life Systems at sixty-eight, to the orchard benches and the long game of stones.
The manifest shortens by one: Stanley Navarrete, 60 years. 1 children carry the line on.
Born at dimming: Everett Zhao, generation 4. The ship holds 971 souls tonight.
Wenbo Valdivia takes the hand of Mahmoud Merriweather before the assembled watch. I witness, as I witness everything.
A birth in Ring B: Sami, boy, generation 5. I have added the name to the manifest with the others.
Census check: 969 souls, 100 of them children. The manifest balances to the person, as it must.
Mariam Tväten retires in the middle watch. The department logs a quiet debt it cannot repay in parts or hours.
Salvador Fossum finishes a quilt: “Bright Anchor (Year 115).” It shows in the commons through the week.
Green across the board: Fabrication Shops holds after 2 weeks of work. Spares were spent; Fabrication is notified.
Dolores Jaber finishes a tale-cycle: “Small Thread (Year 115).” It shows in the commons through the week.
A failure in Fabrication Shops. The duty crew is roused; tools move down the spinal corridor at a jog.
Zenith Petrov and Viggo Navarrete, joined. Their quarters are re-assigned adjoining, per custom.
6.84 light-years remain. I have measured this voyage in breakfasts: some 47,777 thousand to go.
A son, Bohai Quill, born in the Ring C infirmary to Halley Quill and Arc Kowalczyk. Mother and child are well.
The schools release Xavier Yan to Life Systems. Generation 4 takes up its tools.
Dolores Thorvaldsen recovers a corrupted Earth archive block: forty minutes of a rainstorm, recorded through an open window. It plays in the commons on a loop.
The hull ticks as it cools into the long night. Year 115, and I still log it faithfully: ticking, nominal.
All boards green. I count 968 sleeping heartbeats and call it a good night's work, though the work is theirs.
Sixty-eight years: Opal Pemberton hangs up the sash. An elder's quarters in Ring C stands ready.
The youngest aboard is now Rell Quill, minutes old, asleep. 968 souls.
Year 115 of the voyage begins. The oldest bottle of orchard wine that can be spared is opened. It is always described as "improving."
A daughter, Chiamaka Pemberton, born in the Ring D infirmary to Yasmin Pemberton and Orrery Petrov. Mother and child are well.
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.
First watch. The orchard sprinklers run their cycle, and the sound carries down the spine like weather.
The schools release Mariam Navarrete to Archive & Schools. Generation 4 takes up its tools.
The manifest shortens by one: Padma Merriweather, 66 years. 4 children carry the line on.