Hours and hours passed. The Sun had gone to sleep, and once again, The Moon was up in the sky—or at least that's what Elsa figured after counting the endless hours she had been hiding in the back of the Farmer's son's machine. She lay on her stomach, as still as she could, covered by a black tarp. Getting inside had been a challenge at first, yes, but she had figured it out.

Now she could only hope she wouldn't get caught.

How much longer would the Farmer's son stay at the house? It was late already, but he would have to leave sooner or later.

Right?

Wait ... what if he stayed for the night?

Elsa huffed in distress. He'd better not—she couldn't feel her legs already, and hunger was starting to kick in hard.

But then her hope was quickly renewed. Her ears stuck up, hearing distant footsteps crunching the dirt on the ground. Voices chattered quietly, fading in as the steps got closer and closer.

"Glad to hear that, little bro." The Farmer's son chuckled. "Now you be nice to Mom and Dad, okay?"

"I'm always nice to them," a young human spoke. "Will you bring back a Moon rock for me?"

"Hmm ... I don't think they'll let me keep one of those, but I'll try."

"Awesome!"

"Was nice havin' you, Son," the Farmer said. "Come to visit some other time."

"I will, Dad. Sorry again for taking so long."

"It's okay, really. Take care."

Footsteps circled around the machine, then the Farmer's son climbed into it, and then a metallic slam.

"Your back tires are low, Son. You better have them checked," the Farmer said.

"That's weird... I had them checked this morning."

Elsa darted her eyes from side to side, holding up her breath. The minimal noise would blow her cover.

After a moment that dragged like hours, the machine roared to life and started moving down the dirt road toward the front gate.

Elsa exhaled with relief at last.

That sure had been a close call, but she was out of the farm at last

At first, Elsa thought the trip wouldn't take long—after all, how far could NASA be? But then an hour went by, then two, and three, and so on. By then, she wasn't sure if she would be able to use her numbed legs ever again.

Despite the length of the trip, what most impressed her was that the machine hadn't stopped even once. She had come to realize why humans preferred them over horses; they ran not only a thousand times faster, but also for hours without getting tired or having any food. Most importantly, there was no way a horse would have been able to carry her for that long.

She once saw the Farmer's children riding the horses at the farm. It seemed like a lot of fun, and she wanted to give it a try, but Elmer, the horse, refused profusely and asked her if she was "completely out of her mind."

Well, at least she had tried.

Yet another reason to prefer machines: they weren't as grumpy.

A few times along the way, Elsa stuck her head out from under the tarp through one of the corners she had left open. For some reason, each time she looked, the landscape seemed the same. The dirt road had become a thick, black stripe with a white line down the middle. Other machines swept in the opposite direction to theirs and disappear in the distance seconds later. The only thing that seemed to have changed was the position of the Moon—it was more than halfway through the sky already. It wouldn't be long before its big brother showed up.

Another hour or so passed, and then shimmering lights spawned ahead at the side of the road. Elsa's eyes sparked back to life, filled with excitement.

Was that NASA?

Had she made it?

Slowing down its tireless sprint, the machine moved off the road and toward the lights. Whether it was NASA or not, it seemed a bit different from what Tee-bee had shown her; for a start, The Rocket was nowhere to be found. But whatever that place was, it was still awe-inspiring; it was a vast roof with bright lights, held by two tall poles. Below the roof, other machines rested while connected to strange metallic cubes coming out of the ground by black hoses. One or more humans stood near each machine as if waiting for it to wake up or something.

Elsa thought maybe that was how machines ate; they didn't have a mouth, so the humans had to feed them through hoses directly connected to their bellies. Apparently, although these things the humans had created seemed alive, they didn't operate like other living things.

It was a little confusing, all right.

She would have to ask Tee-bee when she gets back to the farm—he'd probably know more about it than her.

He always does.

Alright, so this wasn't NASA after all—it was a machine restaurant!

Well, that sure was a relief.

According to Tee-bee, NASA was a pretty fantastic place, not a place to feed machines.

Finally, The Farmer's son's machine stopped near the others. Before he got out, Elsa tucked her head back inside the tarp so he wouldn't see her. After another metallic slam and the sound of distancing steps, Elsa stuck her head out again. She just couldn't resist glancing around this new setting filled with exciting things, so different from the same dreary mountains and plains she had seen nonstop since they left the Farm.

The Farmer's son walked through a door with a gleaming sign, into some kind of small house with wall-sized windows. He spoke with another human inside and handed him pieces of paper and small metal discs, some silver-colored and others brown. He got snacks in return. So far, that was the strangest thing Elsa had ever seen humans do: they exchanged paper and metal for snacks. I mean, that made sense in some way. Eating paper or metal bits weren't as pleasant as eating actual food, or so Elsa recalled Eddy, the goat, saying after he tried eating wood once for reasons still unknown to her.

As for the other humans, they didn't seem to mind her—they were focused on feeding their machines. One of them pulled the hose off his, got into it, and zipped back to the road, never to be seen again.

These humans seemed very different from the ones on the farm. Elsa now had so many questions for Tee-bee that she was sure she would forget at least half of them.

"Mommy, look!" a high-pitched voice exclaimed nearby.

Elsa glanced around with quick motions, trying to locate the source of the voice. She spotted a female human holding a far smaller one—her daughter, probably—, who pointed at Elsa in excitement.

"It's a cow, Mom! Look!" the young girl continued.

Elsa ducked her head back inside, hiding from the small human; getting the attention of everyone in the restaurant for herself was the last thing she needed right now. That tiny, blaring human was a thousand times louder than the thing hanging from Elsa's neck, and it would surely give her away if the Farmer's son heard her.

"Mom!" she insisted.

"Easy, honey," her mother said, annoyed. "What is it?"

"A cow, Mom! There!" Although she couldn't see it through the tarp, Elsa could almost feel the finger pointing at her.

"A cow? You sure have a huge imagination, honey," the mother chuckled. "Come on, let's go. Your dad will be back any moment now."

"But Mom! It was right there!"

Elsa peered out from under the tarp. As the daughter clamored to be heard, the mother lifted her in her arms. And as she was carried away, she spotted Elsa once again and yelled to her mother in desperation. She was ignored, finally giving up. The mother got inside a red-colored machine with a male human inside, and they got back on the road.

Yet another close call—two on the same day already. Elsa had to be more careful from now on. By the looks of it, this was going to be a far riskier journey than she had foreseen.

She could only hope that there were no more stops on their way to NASA.

❖

Author's Note

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