I had a headache--a sonofabitch of a headache to put it bluntly, and my eyes felt as if some gremlin had got in behind them and was squeezing hard on the eyeballs. It had started as a mild frontal pain when I was talking to Lee and I put it down to the tension of the jump and the subsequent march to our present camp. I'd felt a little chilly too when we got here but the nights were still cold in the hills and we cooled off quickly after exercise. I was sure the aching in my back was due to the pack I had carried, about seventy-five pounds of machine gun ammunition, grenades and some medical supplies for emergencies. But it wasn't going away and I felt lousy. I was feeling damned sorry for myself as I went to sleep. Seconds later it seemed, my eyes were wide open again and throbbing. "Damn it, this won't do!" I muttered, and unzipped the light sleeping bag we carried. "Lord, I'm hot!" I searched the aid kit shakily. Finally I located the APC's, communist version, and then decided to check my temperature. It was 40° Centigrade, right on the line. I translated that into the more familiar Fahrenheit ... 104°. The bar of mercury, slaty grey in the early light, shimmered and wavered as I tried to hold the thermometer still. "Hell's teeth! What a time to get sick." I went over the various possibilities, forcing myself to concentrate, to think as clearly as I could. It was too soon to tell. It could be malaria, or meningitis, typhoid or typhus.... I'd had shots for those two. What about dengue? Or old friend influenza? My mind was wandering now. "Too soon to tell," I said, and I swallowed the APC's. "Too soon to tell ... too soon to tell ... to tell. tell. knell. hell. The silly rhymes echoed down long empty corridors to my ears. I knew I was burning up and getting delirious ... it felt like being drunk. Drunk? I'm not drunk ... I never get drunk now ... nothin' to drink, drink, drink, nothin' to drink and I'm hot. Oh God, my head! Must tell Blackie I'm sick. I have to tell Blackie. I HAVE to tell Blackie!" It was important I knew and then I couldn't remember what was important. I had to have water. I tried to stand up. There was a murmuring somewhere nearby but I couldn't locate it. It persisted like a buzzing fly and I was annoyed. My head still hurt and my eyes ached and I ached all over and I was hot and sticky and thirsty and weak and that damned noise wouldn't go away. Wearily I decided I'd have to do something about it. I tried to lift my head but couldn't make it. I tried again and felt myself lifted. Ahead of me a face wavered and then stabilized. * * * * * "Colonel Mac, Colonel Mac, can you understand me? Colonel Mac...." I blinked blearily at him. I squeezed gritty eyelids together and tried again. It was Sergeant Jimmy Lee, my aidman. "Lee what is it?" My mouth was dry and it was hard to talk. "Sir, we don't know what's the matter with you. Can you tell us?"