I Dreamt of the Machine

Soaring, as one does in dreams, through a black sky.  The shadow of a curve passed beneath me.  And from somewhere a glint of light lit the rim of a massive globe.  The machine.  I knew the moment I saw.  It had fallen into disrepair, forgotten, now dormant and covered in a patina of dust.  Could it be true?  That this behemoth had been meant to save us?  And from what?