He knelt next to one of the holes and kneaded it in the centre with his fist. He found the soil gave way quite easily, allowing him to bury his arm nearly up to the elbow before forcing him to stop. He withdrew his fist and took note of the blackened clumps of soil that he drew out of the ground. He lifted one up to his face. It was strangely shaped and glassy in texture. Handy failed his chemistry and did poorly in geology, but he is pretty sure something like that shouldn’t be this close to the surface on a farm. 