Andy dug in again. Both Frank and Andy excavated for another ten minutes, stopping now and then to pull more fragments free: more scraps of clothing; a woman’s shoe, split open; a wristwatch, still working; and what could have been a large clump of hair.

The soil now had the consistency of an underdone chocolate cake – soft, moist, but slimy moist. For the last few minutes the men had been scooping it away rather than digging, and the going had been easier.

“Jesus Christ.” Frank staggered back as a huge clod fell away and the glare of the light revealed the object. In the harsh illumination, the back of a human head came as a shock. There was thin gray hair, the tips of ears and just the hint of a blue checked collar showing.

“Holy shit; he’s stuck in there, goddamn it.” Frank coughed wetly in his suit.

Matt grimaced as he looked at the grisly thing.

Andy placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Hold it together, Frank. You don’t want to puke in that suit or you’ll be swimming in it until we leave.”

Captain Tania Kovitz stepped in close to the head. “Mr Bill Anderson, I presume. So there you are.” She held up her light, moving it to different angles, illuminating the gray-haired scalp.

Matt could see that inside her mask her eyes showed no fear, but were instead puzzled and curious. She looked briefly back and around at the tunnel they were in.

“We’re a good thirty feet in here,” she said.

While they had been digging, the soldiers had been installing support struts of the same strong synthetic material that lined the huge pit outside, more of them in close to where they were now, as the soil looked like it was liquefying once again.

She reached up with one gloved hand and touched the hair. She shook her head. “How the hell would this guy get blasted so far in?”

Andy just shook his head, apparently not able to speak. He looked baffled, and Frank’s pallor indicated he was indeed fighting against his lunch making a reappearance. Tania reached for the knife at her waist, and gently started to clear the soil away from one side of the head, bringing her face in real close. After a minute she slowed.

“What the hell…?” She dug a little on the other side of the embedded head, wiped and then sheathed her knife. She reached up again and took hold of Bill Anderson’s head, and tugged. There was a wet plop, and then the skull, or what was left of it, came free in her hand. Frank got even closer to losing it, retching loudly.

“Oh god.” Andy coughed and held a forearm uselessly up to the faceplate of his suit.

Matt grimaced at the thing she held. The skull wasn’t a skull at all: instead it was nothing more than a cranial cup, as the front half, the half with the facial features, along with the skull’s contents, was gone.