In a thousand years it was deemed by the Office of Galactic Colonization such pioneers had largely adjusted to the new environment and were ready for civilization, industrialization and eventual assimilation into the rapidly evolving Galactic Commonwealth.
Of course, even from the beginning, new and unforeseen problems manifested themselves…
I
The Co-ordinator looked out over the eighteen seated before him and said, “I suppose I’m an incurable romantic. You see, I hate to see you go.”
Academician Amschel Mayer and Dr. Leonid Plekhanov sat slightly before the other sixteen. They were both in their early middle years and offset one another. Mayer was thin and high pitched, nervous and impatient; his manner was often that of a harried grade school teacher who disliked children. His colleague was heavy, slow and dour and he looked more the sergeant of infantry than a top political scientist.
Now, both showed their puzzlement, as did the balance of the team behind them.
The Co-ordinator added softly, “Without me.”
Plekhanov kept his massive face blank. It wasn’t for him to be impatient with his superior. Nevertheless, the ship was waiting, all stocked and ready for burn off. He stirred his bulk in his chair.
Amschel Mayer said, “It would be a pleasure if you could accompany us, Citizen.” Inwardly, he realized the other man’s position. Here was a dream coming true and Mayer and his fellows were the last thread that held the Co-ordinator’s control over the dream. When they left, half a century would pass before he could again check developments.