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Russo routinely submitted requests for equipment. He was usually approved because he typically would include reports about ancillary financial benefits available from studying the nearly prehistoric flora and fauna found deep in the rain forest. It was for this reason that he now enjoined a small crew of men, paying them to work on their midday break with Hernandez taking a modest cut, to assist him in mapping out this area.

The crater-like area was indeed circular, almost perfectly so. In the center, as Romero had noted earlier, the center seemed to bulge outward and upward, almost like a bubble. The dense growth of strange vegetation was found to fanning out from this center, rather than rooted in the strange soil of the depression. The soil itself was darker and spongier than the surrounding area.

After pictured had been taken, soil samples catalogued, cuttings carefully preserved, Russo had the workers start to carve a path toward the central bulge. It was slow going, but soon they had cleared a path.

Russo set up some equipment and set about inspecting the huge, almost twenty-meter bulge. He took some measurements, several photographs, and some other measurements.

Romero, who had volunteered to help, heard Russo speaking into his hand held recorder, "…crater has appearance of being caused by an impact of some sort…meteor most likely…bulge is consistent with surrounding soil….fused hard... almost metallic…background radiation is elevated…"

Russo stopped speaking and shut the recorder off. He turned, eyes searching, and found Romero.

"I think this crater is from a meteor strike. I think this mound is somehow covering the actual meteor, that is, if there is anything left. Perhaps the heat from the impact fused the soil into this," he said tapping the mound, "maybe forming a pocket of sorts. Depending how deep the actual center is…" His eyes lit up. "What might we find under this, I wonder? OK! You, you, you, and you, take these pick and start digging here!"

The selected men set about their task. The mound turned out to be deceptively tough. While it at first appeared to be simply fused soil, they quickly found it to be much harder and much denser. After two hours of bone aching digging, they had dug down 2 meters or so. Russo had his camera and was taking pictures every now and then, when he said, "ok, take a water break guys, I want to get a few samples."

The men started to climb out of the trench they had dug. The last man suddenly stopped. He looked down, started to say something, when, with a loud crack, the substance beneath his feet gave way. His startled companion tried to reach for his hand, but he missed.

The man fell out of site. At the same time, there suddenly came a loud rushing sound from the hole as a foul, greenish gas came spewing from the opening. The force of the gas came out with enough force to knock the workers off their feet. The workers tried to regain their footing, to help their companion, but they suddenly found themselves unable to breathe. Russo, himself choking on this noxious cloud, had the presence of mind to key his radio and lock it on, just before he passed out.

Romero, furthest from the still spewing gas cloud, was the last to be affected out. Before he did, even over the roar of the gas, he thought he heard a horrific scream from within the hole, which was suddenly cut off. He clawed at his throat trying to get air, choked, then, blackness.

An unknown time passed. Romero slowly became aware of a dull, aching throb in his head. He could tell he was lying down, where he had no idea, nor did he know why. With each breath he took, the dull throb became more distinct, more painful.

Gradually, he became aware of noises around him. At first, it was as if his head were immersed in cotton. The sound was indistinct, muffled. As time crept by, these sounds clarified themselves into low moans, indistinct mutterings, and the occasional voice calling out in pain.

He tried to open his eyes, but he screwed them shut tightly almost immediately. The pain was not unlike ice picks driven deep into his skull. He tried again, opening them gradually to allow the pain to subside.

He was in a cot in a Quonset hut that served as the compound's medical facility. Around him lay men in varying degrees of suffering. As his mind started to come into focus, he remembered that he worked with these men. What they were doing here, what had happened to get him here, he could not remember, at least not clearly.

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