"Hey, aliens sell," the PR man said.

Virgil was standing at patient attention, camera trained steadily on the motionless object.

Graham bit his cheek in concentration. He tipped his head as he studied the silver object.

"Let's excavate," he announced abruptly. Excited with their strange discovery, the men scattered to retake their seats.

Beside Graham, Beemer's frown deepened. "Some wetback tosses a Miller Lite can down there and you're gonna waste time digging it up?"

"That's not ordinary trash," Graham said as he tapped away at his keyboard. "This volcano has been in an active cycle for a bunch of years now. That's hardened magma that thing's settled into. Nothing ordinary should have survived in there."

"Yeah? Well, my vote's still for outer space," Beemer insisted.

The PR man yawned as Virgil stepped closer to the half-buried object.

Even with the camera's limitations, Beemer could make out the perfect curving fine. Measuring against one of Virgil's legs, which was framed in the foreground, Clark judged that the buried object was about the size of a croquet ball.

The surface shimmered in the light as Virgil closed in. The optical illusion seemed to give the thing motion. The hard silver surface almost appeared to be rolling in a short series of waves. Of course that was impossible.

There was a sudden sharp movement on the screen. Beemer blinked. "Did you see-?"

"Okay," Graham interrupted, "we're gonna have to cut through that magma. Phil, bring me right up over it. You'll have to angle-" A glimpse at his monitor and he stopped dead. "What the hell's that?" he asked, his eyes going wide.

No one heard his shocked question.

"I've lost motor control," someone announced abruptly.

Graham's head snapped around. "What?"

"It's gone," the scientist insisted. "I'm locked out."