Everton leads you down a side hall, the floor mercifully rubber-padded this time.

Dr. E.M. Balmer:

So, from what we know, there's an organized community of contaminoids to the East, assuming you missed my clearly marked warning signs, and we have reason to believe the savages may know the rough whereabouts of our anomaly! I don't DARE fathom the wonderful disaster in store for us should they figure out how to weaponize it - we're fortunate the slimy devils are so brainless!

Unfortunately, they're at least clever enough to know our operations are at odds with their vulgar feeding habits, and I shudder to imagine what lovely demise would await us if we made direct contact with the unsanitary vermin - but YOU! You're different! Obviously you would smell like you belonged to the same habitat! They would never recognize the likes of you as an intruder! You stand a quite reasonable chance of getting the information we need and retrieving the anomaly with perhaps only marginal appendage loss, at worst!

Find the anomaly, bring it back to us for destruction, and we can lift our little quarantine! We'll have you back in that dreadful medical facility - truly, not the best, I must say - in no time at all!


Great, I think I got it. But, uh, you're not just gonna send me out here with part of a pole, are you? I mean, you have some pretty fancy gadgetry going on here...

Dr. E.M. Balmer:

OH! Of course, of course! We've got just the thing for such a critical mission!

Everton hands (cables?) you a large, heavy satchel. It's no disappearing/reappearing tote bag, but it'll do. There is text emblazoned proudly across its outer flap.