I'm not naive. I know I'm out-brained. You found Earth, speak the language. Clearly, you're eons more advanced. But, listen to me. Everyone has pain receptors. Your alien tech? Paperwork's been filed. Other people know now, so talking to me is as good as it gets. Boys up the line arrive, they get their answers another way. Then they cut you into pieces, shove you under a microscope, and the gist of your existence will be redacted report and rumor. They are coming, and, to them, you're nothing but a pig in a jar.

Wells