The ground here, shielded from the direct rays of the sun, felt almost
cool by contrast. Lea opened her eyes when he put her down, peering up
at him through a haze of pain. She wanted to apologize to him for her
weakness, but no words came from the dried membrane of her throat. His
body above her seemed to swim back and forth in the heat waves, swaying
like a tree in a high wind.
Shock drove her eyes open, cleared her mind for the instant. He really
was swaying. With sudden horror she realized how much she had come to
depend on the eternal solidity of his strength. Now it was failing. All
over his body the corded muscles contracted in ridges, striving to keep
him erect. She saw his mouth pulled open by the taut cords of his neck
and the gaping, silent scream was more terrible than any sound. Then she
screamed herself as his eyes rolled back, leaving just the empty white
of the eyeballs staring terribly at her. He went over, back down, like a
felled tree, thudding heavily on the sand. Unconscious or dead she
couldn't tell. She pulled limply at his leg, but couldn't drag his
immense weight into the shade.
Brion lay on his back in the sun, sweating. Lea saw this and knew that
he was still alive. Yet what was happening? She groped for memory in the
red haze of her mind, but could remember nothing from her medical
studies that would explain this. On every square inch of his body the
sweat glands seethed with sudden activity. From every pore oozed great
globules of oily liquid, far thicker than normal perspiration. Brion's
arms rippled with motion and Lea stared, horrified as the hairs there
writhed and stirred as though endowed with separate life. His chest rose
and fell rapidly, deep, gasping breaths wracking his body. Lea could
only stare through the dim redness of unreality and wonder if she was
going mad before she died.
A coughing fit broke the rhythm of his rasping breath, and when it was
over his breathing was easier. The perspiration still covered his body,
the individual beads touching and forming tiny streams that seeped down
his body and vanished in the sand. He stirred and rolled onto his side,
facing her. His eyes open and normal now as he smiled.
"Didn't mean to frighten you. It caught me suddenly, coming at the wrong
season and everything. It was a bit of a jar to my system. I'll get you
some water now, there's still a bit left."
"What happened? When you looked like that, when you fell--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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