The old man’s adrenaline had reached an impossible high. Ord watched Suk pan it down again. This wasn’t like ’25. That woman had only gone catatonic, for a spell. This was something much worse. The pulse rate was faster than a hummingbird’s and the respiration, shallow. The eyes opened, rolled up under the lids. The lips were going cyanotic. Oxygen. Ord placed the mask over the old man’s face, adjusted the feed. No change. The TS was now a blinding, continuous white. Whatever it was was killing him.