[ WP ] After having grown up in outer space , you come back to your original home planet .

I unsteadily stepped off the ramp leading down from the lander and, prompting open the visor that shielded my face, breathed in deeply. 
 
 `` So,'' I said to no one in particular. `` This is what Earth smells like.'' 
 
 It was just like Jarrod had told me: all the sample nature smells from the registry onboard the station filled my nostrils, but all with an explicable added dimension. The soft waft of wildflowers, the sharp scent of pine; even the warmth of the sun seemed to be stimulating my olfactory receptors. 
 
 `` Ridiculous,'' I said aloud. `` Do n't pretend to be poet.'' But I smiled despite myself. 
 
 I consulted the Nav-unit on my wrist to confirm coordinates with homebase: somewhere in the vicinity of a large forest range, located in a land once called *Germany*. I briefly wondered if that was pronounced with a hard or soft G sound. Hearing a shout, I turned around. The visor quickly shut over face and numbers flashed across my HUD. 
 
 A man stood in the same meadow, followed by several strange animals that looked vaguely like clouds. He held out a rod or staff, shaking it in my direction, but my attention was riveted by the waist-length mass of grey hair that sprouted from his wizened face. Amazing! They never let people grow facial hair so long back at the station; there were strict laws against it. His leg was also interesting; as the miniature MRI did a flash-scan, I realized that the tibia was improperly healed from some past fracture, leading to the slight limp I could see. If I could get a nanobot booster shot to his leg, I could help him... suddenly, it dawned on me that he was speaking. And that I had no idea what he was saying. 
 
 I let him prattle on for a bit longer, and then lifted a hand to my temple. A small click registered the capacitance signature between the tiny maze of wires within the gloved fingertip and the receiver-relay machinery in my helmet casing. `` Come in, Marco.'' 
 
 `` We hear you, Polo. What's the situation?'' 
 
 I turned on the video feed. `` This guy seems to be a native - no idea what he's saying, though.'' The man was still spouting gibberish at me. His animals, identified in my vision as `` SHEEP'', milled about him, blissfully chewing grass. 
 
 A pause as the other line consulted with someone. `` Confirmed: he is speaking a derived form of German. Perhaps attempt communication?'' 
 
 I shook my head, despite the fact that they could n't see me doing that. `` Do n't think that would help; it would be like speaking ancient Anglo-Saxon with you. His Post-German is too different, I think, from the original.'' 
 
 `` Sit tight, Polo, we'll work on a solution. Over.'' 
 
 I decided that, despite my own words, to try talking to him anyway. After lifting my arms slowly to indicate my lack of weapons, I lifted my helmet off and brought my cowl down. A lovely, warm wind blew over my shaved head and I closed my eyes for a second, enjoying it. Then, I smiled and addressed the man in a form of German that probably has not been spoken outside of the station in hundreds of years: `` Hello, I mean no harm. Do you understand me, sir?'' I kept the formal tone, just in case. Manners cost nothing, as the old adage kept. 
 
 He looked at me suspiciously and answered me with something I did n't understand. But then, a small realization hit me; i spoke again, this time muddling some of my words with French roots and conjugations: `` How about now, is this better? Do you understand me now? I bet you do n't, but it should be a little more familiar now, I hope.'' 
 
 His eyes widened and he said something again. I still did n't comprehend, but I could hear the French basis to some of his words. 
 
 `` Come in, Polo.'' The faint voice came from the helmet and I hastily put it back on. 
 
 `` Go on, Marco.'' 
 
 `` According to the linguistics department, his language seems to be not only derived from German, but also --'' 
 
 `` French?'' 
 
 A pause. `` Indeed. How did you know?'' 
 
 I grinned. `` Never mind, Marco. My apologies for interrupting. Go on.'' 
 
 `` A linguist is going to come on-line and assist you with language acquisition. Additionally, we've been monitoring the conditions reported from your suit. Things look good down there.'' 
 
 `` Yeah!'' I said enthusiastically. Quickly amending my voice to be more professional, I said: `` I mean, yes. Radiation levels are impressively low, and the land seems to be fertile again - here, anyway. Just like what Jarrod reported from, uh, Venezuela, right?'' 
 
 `` Correct. We are creating orders to send Rangers down to other parts of Earth soon, to do increased assessment. Anyway, recommended course of action for you: attempt communication again, find out more about how he and his presumed community lives - tech, health, ecosystem, the works.'' 
 
 `` Will do, Marco.'' 
 
 `` Linguist Kala will be on shortly. Good luck, Ranger. Over.'' 
 
 `` Thanks. Over.'' 
 
 I freed my head once more and smiled broadly at the man. He looked at me, puzzled for a moment, and then slowly spread his lips into a toothy grin. 
 
 `` I think it's finally time to come back home,'' I said, beaming. 
 
 

