It watched intently, with all of its eyes, as the tin machine with tracks crawled to a stop a few meters away. This is a new machine, more living than dead, thought the alien.

They’ve come to communicate with us, it thought to its companion below.

Protocol demands that we initiate contact only when we are ready. We’ve no way to communicate with them; their minds are too weak to handle our thoughts. Perhaps the machine?

No, it has no brain. Shall I kill them?

Not yet. Let’s see what they do first. Maybe we were right.

The tin machine, it’s head swaying front to back, disgorged the human and he leapt to the ground. A message of greeting, in the human language, scrolled across the machines eyes. Peace.

As a multitude of the flying machines circled above, the alien raised its long hands, eyes out, mimicking the human.

Hello, it thought as softly as it could at the human.

The human crumpled to the ground, grasping his head.

I hope you didn’t kill it, came a thought from its companion.