Second Nature

Chapter 61

Another minute of squirming only managed to give him a wedgie. Just great. Now cotton briefs strangled his manhood and he had no way-short of yanking off the biohazard gear-to relieve his misery.  

With his chin, he clicked on the helmet mike. "Lieutenant, I'm splashing around in a puddle of sweat in here."  

Lt. Henderson sat facing backward in the Humvee in order to keep watch through a heavy glass panel into the rear section of the truck. He never peeled his eyes from the cargo bay. "Check your cooling system again." 

"I did, sir. Green lights. And I can hear the pump running."  

"Coolant circulating?" 

"Seems like it." 

"Fan?" 

Colburn squeezed his sleeve. "Suit's still puffed up." 

"Sure that puddle is your sweat? Maybe-" 

"-the coolant's leaking inside. I just thought of that, too. Damn." 

"But then you should be getting a red light from the coolant pressure drop." 

"Whatever," Colburn said. At least the leak was on the inside. The suit still protected him from bio-contamination.  

He pictured himself lolling his tongue and panting like an overheated bloodhound. He twisted the temperature-control dial on his left wrist farther toward COOL. Didn't budge. It hadn't the last three tries, either. 

Henderson checked a digital clock in the heads-up display in his helmet. "We're right on schedule. Can't stop till we've reached the test site. Another hour." 

"Yes sir." Colburn blew out a loud sigh. "I'm just way too hot." 

Henderson frowned. "You're not going to pass out on me, are you?" 

"Oh, no suh, it jus' be a dog day down in the delta," Colburn said, exaggerating his Louisiana accent. "I can take it, if I have to. Sounds like I have to." 

"Just give me some warning if you get light-headed or anything. Fuck, that's all we need."  

"Will do." 

"All right. One hour. Soon as we deliver the package, helicopter swoops down for evac, you peel off your suit. Fly back in your underwear." 

"Ahhhh. Yes, sir. Can't wait. Gonna hang out in that breeze like a tickhound in a pickup." 

"For now, hang in here, airman. Stay alert." 

"Yes, sir." 

Colburn drove and blinked back stinging sweat. It ran down in a steady trickle from his soggy crewcut into his eyes, and no amount of batting his eyelashes kept his vision from blurring. He wished to hell he'd worn a headband.  

Every few minutes the lieutenant's rubber gloves squeaked on the glass panel as he brushed away a film of frost. A television screen mounted atop the truck's console enabled Colburn to keep his attention on the desert road and also monitor the cargo space behind him. The color screen displayed refrigeration equipment and stainless-steel tanks filled with liquid nitrogen, white with frost. In the cargo compartment's center rested a stainless steel capsule, and through a window in the capsule, he could see a clear box, built of six-inch-thick Lucite walls. Bolts the size of soup cans anchored the capsule to the floor. 

"The package" inside the sealed box gave Colburn the creeps. Henderson seemed uptight, too. The lieutenant wore a military radio backpack with a whip antenna that ran outside the window. If the package so much as wiggled a little finger, he was supposed to report it ASAP by radio to Col. Eberhard, riding somewhere up in the blue.