Stage 1. My hands fidget in nervous anticipation as they lower the covered object onto the scale.

Their dirty overalls and smiles clash with the serious faces and white coats borne by myself and my team.

We might have needed the laborers to recover the artifact, but their mere presence feels like an

affront to the sterile, bright room filled with scientific equipment.

Finally, they leave, laughing and wiping their brows.

Now the real work can begin.

This is the kind of thing every archaeologist dreams about. A new discovery

with unknown origins. The photos from within the depths of the cave offered little detail.

The caverns were deep in the mountains. It was discovered accidentally by inexperienced cave

explorers who had wandered too far off the beaten

path. The batteries on their phones had nearly died, so the pictures they had taken were few. It was

a miracle they had found their way out of the caves and called the university. The realization

that the relic came so close to being forever lost in the dark makes me shiver.

My team huddles around me.

They're all quivering with the same nervous energy as we approach the scale.

The artifact is nearly a meter tall and just a little under 300 kilograms.

Jason, my second, steps forward, but I cut him off

and hand him a camera. I stepped forward and pulled the tarp down. The sculpture is of a human

head, but the shape is off. The proportions all wrong. The forehead is elongated, bulbous, and bareheaded. The eyes are vast almonds,

all iris without any pupils. The chin is sharp and pointed. The mouth is just a small line with

no lips, and it is devoid of any ears. Immediately people start speculating about the cultural origins of the sculpture. Even

with my years of experience, I haven't ever seen anything like it. It looks like it was made

...