When Wagner awoke, as shocked as anyone by his own survival, he found himself inside a still-active crash bubble and surrounded by primitive humans with low-tech firearms.

"Good morning, Ensign," said Mitzner "You might want to go ahead and turn off your crash-bubble."

Wagner took an over-exaggerated look around, to indicate to the Lieutenant-Commander the presence of the strangers.

"Are you positive about that?" he asked.

"Do what you like, but if you're going to run down the battery on that thing I'm not waiting for you."

Wagner decided to deactivate the crash bubble.

"Come on, then," said Mitzner, turning to the man "Let's go do that thing where we're not your prisoners but you still shoot us if we try to escape."

* * *

The scouts brought the pair back to their encampment. This consisted of a chaotic arrangement of multicolored tents and other semi-permanent structures. The group made their way through the camp, past cook fires and latrines, and arrived at a particularly large tent constructed from three smaller tents.

"Wait here," said the man, whose name turned out was Nom "No funny business."

"You're the one who kidnapped me and brought me to his clown village, but I'll try to refrain from any funny business," retorted Mitzner.

She had to yell the last part because Nom ignored her and went straight into the tent.

"Clown village?" asked Wagner.

"It would ruin the joke to explain it," said Mitzner "I just hope they have the cultural context for clowns here."

She turned to Kem.

"So how does my showing up like this fit into your local mythology? Am I fulfilling any prophecies? I've always wanted to fulfill one of those."

"You are very chatty," said Kem "But I rarely understand you."

* * *

Mitzner and Wagner were stripped of their tool belts and brought into the personal tent of the Coordinator. At least it was strongly suggested to them that it might help their immediate prospects for survival if they voluntarily decided to go in that direction.

The walls of the tent were plastered with inaccurate looking maps. They seemed to focus on the nearby bridge and surrounding area. The woman who must be Coordinator Oola was standing, waiting for them.

Mitzner would have sat but she didn't see any chairs.

"The scouts tell me you two claim to come from the sky," she said, after a lengthy pause "I would like to hear your version of this."

"That may have been a miscommunication based on that scout guy setting me up for a joke. What I should have said is we're from another planet. We are both explorers from the Huxley Foundation. We come in peace."

"Is that so?" asked Oola "Another planet, hmm? Then I suppose you will be able to tell me the original homeworld of humanity."

"Earth," said Mitzner, flatly.

"You're wrong," said Oola "It's Mars."

"No, it's Earth," agreed Wagner.

"It's definitely Earth," said Mitzner.

"Then what is the name of our shared language?" Oola asked.

"Martian," said Mitzner and Wagner at the same time.

"Martian is so widely spoken because the Martians colonized the worlds of the old galactic empire, but the Martians themselves originally came from Earth," Wagner continued.

"So then, do the two of you claim to be from this 'Earth'?" asked Oola.

"We're both Martians," admitted Mitzner "Mars is our homeworld, you asked about humanity."

"How could you have traveled to here from so far away, if the speed of light is an absolute limit?"

"Relativity drive. You see you... push a button and it goes. Wagner?"

"It creates a tunnel through space/time that connects two distant points. The starship is able to move at sub-light speeds but travel a relative distance that otherwise require faster than light travel," said Wagner.

 Oola smiled.  

"You two are fast talkers, I will give you that," said Oola "I would sincerely like to believe you. I always believed the star-spanning Empire talked of in the old books was the true history of our people. On the other hand if I was my enemy and wanted to undermine my position with a spy, this is the perfect ploy to use to get inside my head. What can you show me, besides knowledge you could have gained from a robust education, to prove your story is true?"

"Give me back the equipment on my belt," said Mitzner "And point me in the direction of your least favorite boulder and I think I can prove it pretty conclusively."