Another monitor showed a mosh of crowd. Rainbow flags and Palestinian dominating center view. Keyboarding. Some monitor screens breaking images apart like iced mountain parts bursting. Then rearranging.
"Those reported calling the thing 'a wave'."
"Some sort of communications thing?"
Magnifying the jet's trash.
Dozens of small black boxes.
"Pull up that amphitheater halfway to Babylon." A flip through plastic pages of negatives. "This one," a finger pointed at what may have seemed like stone ruins.
"All those dropped."
"All what Sir?"
"Who said that?"
"Monitor twenty-seven."
Crowds, a stadium, all the people raving cheers. Then no visible reason they all collapsed. "Were any bleeding from their ears?"
No answer. The question put on a delay, primed to chat with the medical team.
"Watch this one."
A similar jet. A flush. Static. "Let it run through."
"We're out of peanut butter. What should we do for lunch?"
Static to film frames. Film frames picking up speed. Sky. Landscape. A dizzying mix. Then suddenly the video camera on the ground, bouncing like a soccer ball. Stillness. Almost two full twenty-four hour cycles of earth life in light and dark. A wall of fire.
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