Eldest sits on one side of the table in the Learning Center. I sit on the other. The table is a rare antique from when the ship departed centuries ago, made of real wood, wood from Sol-Earth. I wonder at the life hidden in the wood: a tree that breathed Sol-Earth air, lived in Sol-Earth dirt, then was chopped down, crafted into a table, and thrown out into space aboard Godspeed.

“There are things you should know,” he says. He picks up a floppy — a digital membrane screen nicknamed for its, er, floppiness — from the table and runs his finger over it, turning it on. When the screen lights up, he scans his thumb over the ID box.

“Eldest/Elder access granted,” the floppy chirps. Eldest taps something onto the screen, then slides the floppy over to me. I can almost see the wood grain through the thin membrane, but then I grow distracted by what Eldest is showing me.

It’s a floor plan of the Shipper Level — I recognize the main central hallway branching into the large rooms used for science and industry, manufacturing and research. Brightly glowing dots are scattered across the map, blinking and moving around.

“You know what this is?” Eldest asks, taking the floppy back.

“The wi-com locator map.” The wireless communication devices implanted behind our left ears not only allow us to com with each other and the ship, but also serve as locators.

I lean over the table to better see the wi-com map. Eldest’s long white hair brushes my face before he sweeps it behind his ear, and I can smell a whiff of soap and something stronger that bites at my nose.

“See all these dots? Each one is a Shipper. Each one has a very specific job: to ensure that the ship runs smoothly. The top Shippers are here.” Eldest points to the energy room, then traces his finger beyond that, into the engine room I’ve never been in, then farther, into a room past that. “The command center is here. Although the ship runs by itself, if anything goes wrong—”