The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a few wild chickens are pecking at the dirt around a small, rusty water pump in the middle of a dry, scrubby farm field, the sun beating down on the dusty earth. Like, the air's really hot and still, with a faint scent of dry grass and smoke from a distant wildfire. The pump's somehow pouring water into a small metal trough on its own, despite being completely unconnected to any engine or power source. A lazy hawk's circling overhead, its wings beating slowly in the heavy, midday air.