Days slipped past as the sun drew lines across the sapphire sky. Machines arrived: federal aerostats to begin with, scanning and sniffing as they searched for drones like itself. It wasn’t worried, had been printed by tech years ahead of any government laboratory. Trackers followed—fully sentient machines looking for larger-scale dangers. Last came reprinted guards, alert and edgy, and baseline humans, tired and crumpled. Loud jeeps bounced and crashed along the shoreline, fat wire wheels spraying white sand in arcs while crushing shellfish by the millions. The drone tasted the water, analyzing crude hydrocarbons and filtering for organics, DNA, proof of contact. Nothing.