Besides, the heat here by the bunk was becoming almost unbearable. Already, both of them were drenched with sweat.
Sweat! Heat—! Boone went rigid.
There shouldn't be any heat to speak of—not if they lay in a plate-sprung ship on Hyperion's frigid surface!
Then what—?
Boone could find no ready answer.
The air grew thicker, thicker. Eileen's breathing steadily became more labored.
Freeing her from the safety pack, Boone carried her to the room's lowest corner. She roused a little, then sank back once more, as if even consciousness had become an effort.
More seconds. More minutes.
Then, slowly, the pressure on Boone's lungs seemed to lift. Depression and weariness fell away. New energy flowed through him.