The drone lay in pieces on the workshop floor. Seeing the insides, they were certain that’s what it was. Its interior was too densely packed for a driver.
“What if the aliens were liquid?” Hutch had offered helpfully.
“This is way above my pay grade,” said Luiz.
“All of ours,” said Ellie, then to Monica, “except yours.”
Mayor Monica Deaver stared at the spread out crystals, plates, cogs and various unidentifiable bits. A heartbeat later she said, “Yeah, well, I’m delegating,” and left.
Ellie shrugged. “Fine. Let’s do it, boys.” She grabbed a sledge and chisel and went to work.