 Take us down to sub-microscopic size. Hold us down until the police have got us. Tell them we've left. They won't dare meddle with the machine. Tell them... Tell them it will mean death to anyone who gets in the way of the bees. When they're gone, bring us back up. I'll maintain radio silence as I hear from you. Very well, my son. There they are. The machine's warmed up. Move over, Ava. I'm coming in. Let me... Let me...