James Rodriguez

Setting up the command tent first, then arranging sleeping quarters in a defensive semicircle.

The routine felt familiar.

Coming, measuring distances, securing equipment, establishing communication protocols.

Normal procedures in an abnormal place 32 degrees elevation from jungle floor to clearing.

Thomas reported checking his handheld GPS.

A fresh water source confirmed, 80 yards northeast.

No visible wildlife.

I logged his report in the field notebook while supervising equipment placement.

Sarah organized our medical supplies within easy reach of all tents.

Ott established motion sensors at 15-yard intervals surrounding Camp Emily photographed and measured each stone structure, moving methodically around the clearing.

These aren't random, she called, kneeling beside one of the pillars.

They're positioned according to celestial alignment.

This central stone would catch the rising sun during summer solstice.

Divot had already wandered to the edge of the clearing, plastic collection bags in hand.

His enthusiasm contrasted sharply with our measured movements.

James, you need to see this.

He gestured emphatically from the jungle's edge.

I crossed to where he stood, noting the soil transition from cleared ground to forest floor, a perfect line, as if the jungle growth respected some invisible boundary.

Divot pointed to a cluster of mushrooms growing at the base of a massive tree.

They stood four inches tall, with pale stems and flat, almost translucent caps, similar to what I showed you this morning, but more mature specimens.