[ WP ] Humanity sends a generation ship to a planet that could support life . By the time they arrive , they find that a civilization has developed there .

`` Scans are coming in, hold up.'' Johnston's said it letter by letter, each grooved like the steps of an old university, smoothed by the tread of an ocean of repetitions. 
 
 But even so, Evans' heart skipped a beat every time the large, holographic dome in the center of the bridge parsed the tidal wave of information ramming against it and the cabin lights dimmed to let the algae-green glow dominate the command center. 
 
 Each time, though, it only took a quick scan with his own eyes to smother that excitement. Glaring red bold text, all in the same columns. Radiation, no ecosystem, no atmosphere, no core, and any one of these things would instantly disqualify. `` Planet's dead, let's move on,'' flowed off his lips. 
 
 Michaels, the navigator, had long since ceased to pay attention to the globe. Its pale green light met merely the back of her seat as she tapped a button. She had already plotted a course. `` We're on our way to Beta Cygni Three,'' she said, slowly spinning in her chair. That sentence, too, was crushed smooth as sand. 
 
 The first time had been different; they were the twenty-fifth generation, the peak of the normal distribution, the ones with the highest chances of success, genes for leadership and decision-making selected rather than mechanical skill. So said the pamphlet. Of course, in their minds, this meant that the very first planet they visited would be the one, and they would be known as the first generation, the prime generation. 
 
 But this was the fifth system of multiple dense, rocky planets, and this was the second candidate within that system. They were all aware of the slow ticking-down of all the numbers on this ship: the efficiency of the reactor, the number of probes they had left, the sustainability coefficient of their farms, the effectiveness of their radiation shielding, and the list went on and on. 
 
 And, stubbornly, abhorrently, the planets refused to bend to their will. Evans' cool, calm steps back towards the hibernation chamber weighed down on him—the attractiveness of compromise was growing. They abandoned the first planet they scanned, even though it was free of the red cancer in the far-right column. Too hot, they had said in their first naïve debate, and the atmosphere's too thin. It's barren, a desert, not suited to be the seat of human colonization! 
 
 Foolish. 
 
 ___ 
 
 
 `` Scans are coming in, hold up. ” 
 
 A bright green glow. Evans' eyes twitched slightly; the far right column did n't fill up. 
 
 `` Let's not get out hopes up too high, now,'' Johnston said, slowly, his voice cracking. `` The probe's still sending data. ” 
 
 But the ledge of hope had clung to all their hearts, grappling for purchase and dilating their eyes. Michaels turned around, her chair squeaking slightly. 
 
 The right column impassively, inertly, remained blank. All the numbers popped in. One second, then two. `` Data stream's all done,'' said Johnston. `` We have what we have. ” 
 
 `` We're taking it,'' Evans said, blinking twice. `` It's even better than the first world. Atmosphere, water, comfortable temperature, it's damn near Eden. ” 
 
 On an intellectual level, they all knew there should have been a debate. Michaels played the devil's advocate out of seldom routine. `` Water's too poisonous for advanced life,'' she said flatly. `` Not a lot of land on the planet. ” 
 
 `` Let's get a quick vote,'' Evans concluded. `` All those in favor?'' 
 
 Three, weary hands. `` Settled.'' 
 
 ___ 
 
 
 None of them had stepped outside the sealed sphere of the command module in their entire lives, and they sat facing on another a full hour after all the shuddering and jittering had come to a halt. None dared look, but they could all see chipper green `` OK'' symbol out of the corner of their eyes. 
 
 Evans was the first to spring out. Without a word, the other two followed suit into the light of a brave new world. 
 
 Their eyes, myopic from so many years in screens, took a while to expose themselves to the harsh sunlight. Spots swirled around in vision and all Michaels and Johnston could hear was the slow, grinding weight of Evans' first words: `` Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god... “ 
 
 One thing came into focus in Johnston's view. A battered green sign, bordered with a bright reflective paint and half-covered with vine, reading `` Haven'' in plain English. 
 
 One thing came into focus in Michaels' view. A bright and vibrant jungle, growing in the smashed honeycomb carcass of an arcology, collapsing in on itself while stabbing vainly at the sky.
