"I'm just saying it's possible. It's getting tight in here. Can you hand me the fiber optics, please?"

He bumped into cartons as he made his way in my direction.

"You might want to take off your glasses until you get here," I suggested, because one couldn't see anything through them except the high-energy light, which wasn't in Marino's line of sight at the moment.

"No friggin' way," he said. "I hear all it takes is one quick look. And zap. Cataracts, cancer, the whole nine yards."

"Not to mention turning to stone."

"Hub?"

"Marino! Careful!"

He bumped into me and 'I wasn't sure what happened after that, but suddenly cartons were caving in and he almost knocked me over as he fell.

"Marino?" I was disoriented and frightened. "Marino!"

I cut the power on the Luma-Lite And took-off my glasses so I could see:

"Goddamn fucking son of a bitch!" he yelled as if he'd been bitten by a snake.

He was flat on his back on the floor, shoving and kicking boxes out of the way. The plastic bucket sailed through the air. I got down next to him.

"Stay still," I firmly told him. "Don't go thrashing around until we're sure you're all right."

"Oh God! Oh shit! I got this shit all over me!" he yelled in a panic.

"Are you hurting anywhere-?"

"Oh, Jesus, I'm gonna puke. Oh Jesus, oh4esus."

He rushed to his feet and knocked boxes out of the way as he stumbled toward the container's opening. I heard him vomit. He groaned and vomited again.

"That should make you feel better," I said.

He ripped open his white shirt, gagging and heaving as he struggled out of its sleeves. He stripped down to his undershirt, balled up what was left of his uniform shirt and hurled it out the door.

"What if he's got AIDS?" Marino's voice sounded like a bell at midnight.

"You're not going to get AIDS from this guy," I said.