Dispatches from The Future (B-List)

A Meadowlark Called

Aamil al-Asmari sat atop a dusty bit of sandstone near the edge of aravine. His flock contentedly munched on the sparse, dry grasses that had sprouted and burst from the ground as the winter snows had receded, melting away. His people’scantonment was located a click or two up the arroyo near the base of the Roan Cliffs. He could see lights peaking out of tents in the setting sunlight. Aamil’s job, during most evenings and nights, was to watch the flocks that traveled along...