Uncounted millenia after a frenzied flight from from its home world, humanity returned to Earth in the form of a slim, streamlined dropship bearing a single passenger. While the vessel decelerated through the atmosphere its occupant reclined in a gelfield, mercifully insulated from the harsh forces buffeting the ship. A display hovered in front of her eyes, displaying an image of the Earth below. The view centered on her destination, a bare patch of beach surrounded by dense forest with only the faintest hint of a trail leading through the trees visible from above. The computer had long since given up its attempts to overlay historical maps, as the planet below bore no resemblance to the one its predecessors had guided a rag-tag fleet of less sophisticated vessels away from.

By the time the ship reached the manicured sands of the beach, it had slowed sufficiently to hover smartly above the ground for the barest fraction of a second before touching down. A walkway extended from the doorway towards the bottom of the craft and moments later its passenger emerged, walking down the solid but thin plank of matte, gray metal to the ground below. It yielded ever so slightly under her thin traveling boots, giving its small aid to travel-weary legs. She stopped and looked around as her feet sank into the loose sand, taking in her surroundings. Arching her back and stretching out, she just barely reached four feet in height, but her short frame bulged with muscle not quite hidden by her light jacket and thick fabric pants. Her dark complexion eagerly soaked in the sun’s meager rays, while her deep-set eyes and diminutive pupils struggled to adjust to the scant illumination it provided.

A flutter of activity in the trees to her left caught her attention and a large, brightly colored bird emerged from the foliage. It flapped its way down to the ground, alighting a polite distance in front of her. Standing straight upright, its parrot-shaped beak just barely came to the level of her shoulders. The beak cracked slightly open and a tinny, almost human voice emerged from within.

“Greetings, I am Nal. You may address me as male. Please forgive my plumage, as our mating season.”

The stout woman looked down into the creature’s eyes, beady and perceptive. She answered him.

“Hello, Nal. My name is Kaley Lecks, and it is my honor to extend humanity’s greetings.”

Nal unfolded one long wing, and from the feathers about the wrist joint a thin, leathery, but distinctly primate hand emerged.

“Do you still shake hands?” he asked.

With a polite smile fixed on her face, Kaley suppressed an internal shudder, reached out, and grasped the proferred hand. The wing pivoted awkwardly, but they carried out the best facsimile of a handshake they could manage, and Nal furled the wing back against his breast. The hand disappeared back into a sheath of feathers.

“Please, come with me,” Nal said, and turned towards a narrow path cutting into the trees. “We have something here that I believe you would like to see.”

“Of course,” she said, turning to follow him. “We have so much to talk about.”

“Indeed we do.”

He proceeded ahead of her with an awkward, almost hopping gait. Every so often his wings twitched, as if he struggled against an urge to unfurl him, but he remained on the ground with Kaley.

“Tell me,” he asked, “you are…shorter…than the remains we have studied of your kind. Are you an adult?”

Kaley chuckled.

“I am,” she said. “My family has lived on the same planet for thousands of years. Heavy gravity, bright suns…we adapted. If you go far enough, you’ll find humans that look pretty much like the ones who left here, but we just happened to be the closest. We heard your radio signal first, and as long as the journey took we decided I should leave immediately. So here I am.”

“Fascinating,” he said, nodding his head back and forth slightly.

“And what about you,” Kaley asked? “The closest animal we’ve known to you was called a parrot, but they were much smaller than you. And they didn’t have…”

She glanced at the slight bulges in the feathers covering his wrists and suppressed another shiver.

“…hands.”

He let out an amused cluck.

“They didn’t speak your language very well either,” he replied, “but close enough that we remember it. And the hands, well…”

He unfurled a hand from one wing and held it in front of his face, idly flexing the fingers back and forth.

“…you left a world full of discarded tools. Manipulating them became a selective pressure, and a powerful one at that. You’d be surprised how much of the life on this planet has hands now.”

Her eyes struggled to adjust once again as they passed under the thick branches of the surrounding forest and entered the narrow trail.

“Nal,” she asked, “where are you taking me?”

“To a museum of sorts,” he responded. “A human city, left nearly intact. We restored as much of it as we could. Trimmed back the encroaching plants, set out barriers for the animals. The wild has reclaimed most of your ruins, but this one we keep to remember. I thought you might like to see it. And besides, there aren’t many places nearby to land a spaceship.

“I know there are practical concerns, of course. Trade, cultural exchange. I’m sure you have more to ask about than just my hands. But we can set all that aside for now, if you would prefer to just take in the scenery for a while.”

“I appreciate that, Nal,” she said. “But if it’s alright with you I’d rather start the discussions right away. The communications lag is significant, and I need to get my first report off as soon as I can.”

“I understand. Do you still wish to see the city?”

“Of course, Nal, it sounds wonderful. You can show me around while we talk. We’ll kill two birds with one stone.”

His feet ground to a sudden halt in the sand underfoot as his head swiveled rapidly on his neck. His beak seemingly disappeared as he turned dead-on to her, eyes narrowing and focusing on hers.

“Excuse me?” he squawked.