GREAT BASIN TRILOGY
Year 1022
Pinion, creosote, and cholla whisper in the warm, soft breeze. A young hunter moves with fluid grace, stealth, and focused purpose. Gliding soundlessly up the dry streambed of a rocky canyon, his yucca sandals leave no imprint. A thin, quartz-tipped arrow is nocked with slight tension in his bow.
Encountering another narrow dry wash, he pauses and slows his breathing. “Where does the rain go? he wondered. “To a faraway river? Did thirsty ancient spirits drink it all?”
Glancing right, his gaze follows the groove, up along a ragged limestone overhang and higher into silhouetted crags, to the unbounded freedom of clouds high above. He notes a distant condor, motionless on warm up currents. Sensing a slight visual change, he glances toward the canyon wall a hundred yards away. A bighorn ram, grazing upwind on a narrow ledge, raises its magnificent head to regard him with curiosity.
The hunter admires this magnificent animal, then ponders a strategy of traversing around and then up a nearby outcrop, taking the bighorn from above. If successful, his hunt will provide warm clothing and weeks of nutrition for his family and nomadic group.
His eyes slowly return to the shallow wash, then track the timeless arroyo into the desert valley and the faraway hazy horizon. He observes an alert coyote a mile distant, padding cautiously along rabbit holes eroded in the streambank.
Butterflies and bees hover near magenta blooms of prickly pear clustering near cottonwood, cedar, and juniper. He senses the balanced harmony of sights, sounds, and fragrances in this majestic desert range.
He is integral to all life within this vast, peaceful universe.
Year 2022
A teen ATV rider blasts down a steep rocky slope at high speed. Gloved and helmeted, standing above the seat with legs flexed, he’s focused on control of his machine at high speed over rough terrain. ZZ Top screams into his Bluetooth earbuds. Exhilarated, he believes he is an extension of his vehicle. Its power and mobility multiply his human capabilities tenfold, and he is obsessed with conquering the desert.
Launching itself airborne over the bank of a dry streambed, the ATV shrieks without resistance or traction. Slamming into the sand, vehicle and rider quickly recover and resume their aggressive invasion. Blasting over rocks and sand, crushing flowering prickly pear and barrel cactus, the driver powers on, ignoring the beauty around him. His bone-jarring ride spews clouds of oily blue exhaust and earsplitting noise as its four knobby tires spray gravel and gouge deep new ruts. The cacophony resonates through canyons miles away.
He sees only an unspoiled route ahead, and ignores new drainage paths he has carved in fragile biomes behind him. He disrupts the most precious sources of solitude needed so desperately by both humans and wildlife. His mechanized intrusion obliterates the harmony of sights, sounds, and fragrances in this majestic desert range. He destroys the predictable harmony of eons.
No matter. His thrilling, satisfying adventure will provide weeks of boasting to his peers.
Year 3022
Machines live in the legacy of technology and human civilization. A mechanized bot swims just below the surface of hot, brackish-brown soup. It pauses briefly, then breaks the surface to gain energy from orange sunlight. The solar recharge will enable this solid-state being to provide weeks of usefulness to its species. Its scanners note a few surfaced clones nearby, but no threats are perceived across this expanse of noxious ocean. Sea levels continue to rise, valleys continue to flood. Former mesas are barren, desolate islands with beaches of foamy brown sludge. The planet is devoid of organic life.
Having energized itself, the bot re-submerges. It resumes the commute to its place of employment, an adaptive technology and replication facility.
Will Walsh