The shelters of the Atakama were squat; not more than 144 sq ft at the base and approximately one third smaller around the top. There was no gables and the primary forms consisted of self-supporting non-uniform rectangular stones; carrying structural forces mainly through compression. There were no timber beams or braces, owing to the complete desolation of the environment; therefore, various abundant and mineable metals were skillfully formed and crafted to fulfill an array of functions within each individual habitat; brace and latch points, as well as awnings, doors, and windows, were all metallic though not uniformly created from hand or material. The dull stone facades yielded to the polychromatic glint of light across the smooth surfaces of the metallic additions. Thick non-permeable canvas covered each roof and was held fast with stranded medium gauge cable.
Incidents of continued saltation through the faculty of strong winds, primarily northern in manifestation and southeasterly in direction frequently transported large quantities of sand across the village. The pooling sand on the top canvas of each structure, in conjunction with the natural stone and metal gradients, gave cause for the village to take on the characteristics of an inferior mirage, even when viewed at close distance. The village seemed as much a part of the landscape as the barren horizon. No bustling markets, no people moving in and out between the structures. They had long since departed.
Eastward past the village, and dominating the horizon, was the Heliograph. At over 3000 ft high and 1200 ft wide, it seemed a mountain of unnaturally shaped stone. Straight edged and hollow in the middle it resembled a doorway to the heavens, or hell. Silent and unmoving it sat for millenia upon the barren surface of the Atakama Desert demanding respect from all in its purview. Now a soft and radiant light emits from within the obelisks’ frame; and a discerning eye can see the very last of the determinative Atakama people, moving across its foundation and into the unknown.