The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Giant kudzu vines are wrapped around the rusting hulks of old cargo ships, like they've been sitting in this dry lakebed for decades. The air's super still, heavy with a weird smell like old grease and gasoline, and there's this gentle hum in the background, similar to a huge engine idling. Umm, the sky above is a deep, cloudless blue, and a flock of white pelicans is perched atop the nearest ship's bridge, silently staring out as the sun beats down from directly overhead. A nearby propeller is somehow spinning backwards, spraying sand and dust everywhere.