DX01: SINGULARITY 04299
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Cacti and dry shrubs surround a small, old-fashioned windless water well in the middle of a dry, cracked earth plain, with the sun high in the sky, probably mid-afternoon, beating down relentlessly. Like, the air's hot and still, smelling of dry earth and sagebrush, and a team of trained prairie dogs are somehow pulling up buckets of crystal clear water from the well, without any rope or pulley system, just using tiny little leather straps attached to their harnesses. Uh, the water's flowing smoothly into a small, rusty metal trough that's somehow being steadily extended, like it's being unrolled from a giant sheet, as more animals arrive to drink. A single tumbleweed is just hovering motionless, half a foot off the ground, right next to the trough.
