That was an excellent idea. I fumbled around the drawers under my workbench until I found my tripod and phone mount. A few minutes’ setup and we had Patrick’s phone ready to record.

“Let’s do this.” Patrick set the phone to recording, then we each grabbed a handful of flour. Being careful not to block the phone’s view, we quickly sprinkled flour over the area.

“Son. Of. A. Bitch,” Patrick said. There had been a momentary impression of a long body before the whole thing faded out, flour and all.

I wiped off my hands, patted myself down to get rid of drifting flour, then grabbed Patrick’s phone and stopped the recording.

Patrick, meanwhile, was frowning at the pallet, hands on hips. “Why do the flour and the dust go invisible, but not the tarp? Or the pallet?”

I shrugged. “How the hell would I know? We don’t even know what’s causing the invisibility yet. Maybe it’s a mass thing. Or size.”

I handed Patrick’s phone to him, and he flicked at the screen until he had the video playing back. He pressed pause just as the form was at maximum visibility. As we got a look at the body, Patrick started to laugh. “It’s a squirrel. A giant squirrel! Just your plain everyday roadkill.” His voice trailed off as he began gasping for air between the guffaws. I could feel my face getting red, but I was determined not to give Patrick the satisfaction of a reaction.

Finally, Patrick’s snorting and gasping died down. Ignoring his behavior, I pointed to a spot on the paused video. “Utility belt.”

Patrick chuckled. “Look at the bright side—no bandolier.”

“A giant squirrel kind of ruins the metaphor anyway,” I said.

“Ya think? C’mon, let’s see if we can get that utility belt off by feel.”

“I’m going to record this too,” I said. I took Patrick’s phone and put it back on the tripod.

We stepped to either side of the pallet and knelt.

“Uh,” Patrick said, “It is dead, right?”

“No, it’s just resting.”

Patrick hesitated, then smiled. “Sure. Okay, let’s do this.”

We quickly located the belt, it being apparently the only article of clothing on the body. I had a momentary image of accidentally groping the alien’s genitals and had to suppress a shudder.

“Can you find a buckle?” Patrick asked.

“No. It’s … hold on.” I closed my eyes. “It’s easier with my eyes closed. Now I’m not fighting what I think I see.” I groped around the belt until I felt what might be a latch. A push, a twist, and the item came free.