The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Seagulls are nesting in the crooked metalwork of an old radio telescope dish, perched precariously on a rusting support tower overgrown with some kind of electric-blue flowering vines. The air's thick with a buzzing, almost-but-not-quite radio static kind of noise and it smells like ozone and hot metal. The sky above appears to be running on some kind of 56k modem-era video loop - a repeating pattern of distorted JPEG clouds is scrolling horizontally across the horizon. The sun's a low, faint glow on the horizon, like it's perpetually stuck at 3 am.