The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Twin fluorescent tubes are embedded in the trunk of a giant, ancient baobab tree, illuminating a cluttered workshop filled with half-disassembled motorcycle engines and stacks of vintage camera lenses. Umm, the air's thick with the smell of gasoline and old leather, and it's quiet except for the sound of a lone, hammering woodpecker somewhere outside. The sky above is a pale gray, with clouds that look like they're being pulled apart in slow motion by some invisible force. The tree's branches seem to be shifting and rearranging themselves, like it's trying to solve some sort of arboreal puzzle.