Excerpt, Pastor Norton’s prayer diary:

O Lord…like our generation ship, I am adrift in a barren ocean of solitude. Helpless.

Why am I losing my mind? Are these present circumstances clouding my concentration to the point where I forget that I move items around in my quarters? I walked through the door and thought someone had moved the items on my desk around. Is my grievance really this severe?

I have searched high and low at the Captain’s behest and come up with nothing. Why am I not successful? The only uncharted areas belong to the empty quarter before the engine assemblies…Pastors Jonas and Fletcher reside there, as monks. I shall speak with them tomorrow and see if I can acquire some useful information. Perhaps the answer lies within the ship’s bowels.

You know what an orrery is…all the intricate machinations. There are orreries unto orreries unto orreries unto orreries out there. You control the machinations, and I, a mote of dust upon one, am swept up within them.

Grant me wisdom, Father.

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