“Just like in Iowa, and in Kansas, Montana, Utah, and…” Decker’s forehead creased. “Just how many other places now?”

“Five hundred confirmed significant sites…just in the USA. Over four thousand worldwide, and they’re getting bigger and deeper, as we can see from this monster.”

“Jesus Christ, this is not normal,” Decker said.

“Far from it, sir. Right across the States we suffer from sinkholes, but the things that make this series of events very abnormal are the size and depths, and the absence of ground water. In fact most of these are opening up in geologically very old and dry areas.”

Decker frowned. “Theories?”

Abrams shook his head. “Plenty, but none that make sense.” He brought up another image, this one of the Iowa hole, and also a shot of Andy Bennet. “This guy, a geologist, was first into the Iowa hole. He took several samples from the base. Seems to know what he’s doing. Results are yet to be confirmed, but the material recovered at the bottom of the pit was biological…primordial biological.”

“What the hell does that mean? Primordial as in some ancient animal? This isn’t getting any clearer, Josh.” Decker’s jaws worked.

Abrams exhaled and shrugged. “Yes and no. More like basic tissue matter, with a simple cell structure – protoplasmic almost.”

Abrams picked up a small remote and changed the screen image again. Next was a report, heavily redacted. “There’s more. Mr Bennet also wrote a report that is now in our hands.” The next image cleared away the blackout stripes over the words. “In it, he says the earth walls at the bottom of the sinkhole were spongy, but not as in damp. More like the soil was resolidifying, as though it had been made soft, not by water, but by some other means, and it was that which caused the house to drop.”

“I’m not liking the sound of this.” Decker stared evenly at the image. “We’re testing vibration weapons that can soften entire surface structures. Maybe someone else is trying out something similar on us.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think so.” Abrams turned the page. “And this is where it gets weird. Bennet also recovered something from down in the pit – from within the wall actually – this sleeve.” He shrugged. “Unremarkable by itself, but it was in the wall, looked dragged in, as Bennet put it. We sequestered the sample and had our own labs analyze it – weird on top of weird. We did a DNA test with some epithelials on the material against one of Bill Anderson’s surviving relatives – we got an immediate hit and confirmed the shirt definitely belonged to our missing man.”

Abrams sat on the table’s edge, pulling at his lip for a moment. “We found something else on that sleeve, some fluid: not blood as Mr Bennet first wrote in his report, but something else – once again biological.”

Abrams reached over to enlarge the image of the ragged end of the sleeve. He sat staring for a few seconds.