Ellie did not like riding inside the machine. It was cramped and dark and she had no control over what was happening or where she was going. But the message had been clear: the machines were not the enemy.
When she had stood out in the open field, weaponless and alone, she nearly panicked. When the heptahedron had rolled at her, she nearly shit. But she stayed.
Now she was moving northward, toward the “others” as the last cryptic message had put it. In the close darkness she prayed a little, despite being a very long way from Sunday School.